#gonna start pulling bits of these for y'all

[reflectingiridescent]

"It just felt right that they had this kind of formal relationship, because I didn't want...them to have too much of a chemistry and intimacy because that wouldn't have felt right, given the circumstances of where she's at in the season...Once I started saying [it], it just started to feel very...delicious, really." - Gina Bellman on "our Mr Wilson"

I didn't know that the aftershows of Leverage Redemption were all also available on Spotify, so I've been going back and listening to them, and I'm just remembering how much fun it is to hear the show team talk about the characters and the show in general.

This is the episode assigned to 1x08 The Mastermind Job, and Gina talks about how "our Mr Wilson" appeared in the first few scripts, and how she asked if she could keep it. She also talks about being a nerd for the science behind accents!

[starflungwaddledee]

Oooo starstruck dee has little stars at the bottom of her feet! Are they just aesthetic or would they make imprints into the ground? (like pawprints)

exactly like that! though she's not the only one...

edit: might need to add some additional dialogue to this to make it more clear, but a clarification in the interim; he knows about his own footprints. he's just surprised to see something similar already there when he knows he's only just landed. he lifts his own shoe to confirm that they're not identical (and also to reveal this to the viewer). seems his stoicism beat off the clarity in this one, sorry 😭

[neverendingford]

.

[ilikeevilblondes]

Breaststroke

18+ MDNI!

Summary: Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips.

TL;DR: It’s more fun to stay in the YMCA (shower rooms) (because that’s where Joel fucks you.)

W.C: ~7.7k

Warnings: Singledad!Joel x swimmingteacher!reader, softdom!joel, accidental voyeurism, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, praise, fingering, unprotected p-in-v, shower sex, pull out and pray, implied age gap, Joel’s got that daddy humour (no outbreak!)

Note: waiter! waiter! some plot with my porn, please! sorry, you freaks, mama had to stretch the narrative before the rawdogging. and sorry for the late upload, the flu was not gucci. hope y'all enjoy as always, though! and if you got any reqs, feel free to send them my way 🤓

@pedrospurplerain

According to HealthyChildren.org, most children in America begin to learn how to swim by their fourth birthday. Basic abilities like floating and treading water can be ingrained in their motor skills at that point, and by the ripe age of five or six, most children will have been able to freestyle across any urine-defiled public pool.

Joel sighed as he watched his five-year-old angel scream and hiss at the local YMCA pool, refusing even to dip a toe into the chlorinated abyss.

“Sarah, pumpkin, you’re not a cat.” He sighed, pinching his curved nose bridge.

Sarah merely shot him a dirty look, the dirtiest a toddler could muster. She crossed her arms over her chest, the bright orange inflatable armbands around her upper arms squeaking as she did so.

“I don’t wanna go in there, daddy.” Sarah humphed.

Joel shook his head, looking up at her from where he sat in the shallow area of the gym’s pool. His little treasure, bless her heart, was stubbornly standing over the ledge and peering down at him with both fear and unwavering defiance.

“Y’gotta, pumpkin.” Joel ran a hand through his wet hair.

Of all the dads in the world, Joel would not say he was among the worst percentile. He certainly tried his best to do anything and provide everything for his little girl; working as many shifts as he could to pay for her school (his kid somehow, thankfully, didn’t get his brains and was starting first grade ahead of schedule), moving into a ‘nicer’ neighbourhood, and spoiling her with all the stuffed toys and lego sets her little heart desired.

Being a single dad wasn’t easy, to put it simply. Joel would’ve thought, owing to karmic nonsense, the universe could have been a bit nicer to him for the measly crime of forgetting to teach his daughter how to swim. But there he was, staring up at a child more hydrophobic than a rabies survivor.

“Can we go home, Daddy? Please?” Sarah stomped her little foot down onto the tiled floor.

“We will, sugar, I promise. Just, not until you at least try to step down here.”

Sarah shook her head wildly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” She said, more decisively.

“Says who?” Joel raised a dark brow.

“Me.”

“Remind me again, pumpkin, are you the adult or the child in this relationship?”

“You’re the one in the kiddie side of the pool, Daddy.” Sarah giggled, revealing a toothy grin.

Joel sighed through a smile. God, this kid was too smart for him. She was gonna be the death of him.

Mumbling something to the effect of ‘smartass’ under his breath, Joel treaded to the end and hoisted himself up, towering over his three-foot-nothing daughter and dripping chlorine-infected water down onto the ground.

“You wanna switch places?” He crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest, nodding his head toward the pool.

“Nope!” Sarah smiled.

Joel was about to give up for the day and take his troublemaker home only to return the next weekend, when he suddenly felt a tentative finger tap his shoulder.

He whipped around to see a girl, much younger than him—and much shorter, too, dressed in the standard red lifeguard one-piece uniform. 

“Sorry to intrude,” You began, biting your lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Joel blinked, not realising he had to reply to your remark like a normal fucking human would. Instead, he opted for the less popular, uncivilised caveman method of furrowing his brows and blinking madly.

He was too distracted by the way your swimsuit clung tightly over your body. Too mesmerised by the droplets of water sliding in slow motion down your curves. Not to mention that disarmingly pretty smile of yours. 

God, he’d been too single for too long.

“Hello!” The reason for his singleness beamed up at you and waddled closer. “I’m Sarah.”

Your smile stretched wider as you bent down to meet her eye level and introduce yourself in return. Sarah repeated your name back to you delightedly, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

After making a comment about how ‘cool’ her floaters were, you straightened up and met Joel’s coffee-brown gaze.

“Anyway.” You absentmindedly tucked a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Um, well, I overheard your situation. And, uh, just wanted to let you know that the gym hosts free introductory swimming lessons every Saturday afternoon. I teach the classes, actually, and you and your daughter are more than welcome to come, mister…?”

By some miracle, Joel was able to move his mouth and properly communicate this time.

“Miller. Joel Miller.” He managed to say without so much as a stutter, smiling politely at you and sticking out a hand.

You took his hand in yours and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Miller-Joel-Miller. That Italian?” Your laugh was a sweet sound and, at risk of being completely predictable, music to his ears.

“The only Italian in me, sweetheart, is from the canned ravioli we had for lunch today.” Joel chuckled. “And we’d be more than happy to come, wouldn’t we, Sarah?” 

To punctuate his claim, he flashed Sarah a look.

A frown cut into her soft features, but she relented. 

“Yes, we would.” Sarah sighed dejectedly.

“Great! Um. Here’s the flier.” You produced a colourful leaflet and held it out to Joel. He took it. “It has the times and details and, uh, that’s my phone number on the bottom, there.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Joel pocketed it. “We’ll be there.”

“I look forward to seeing you two then.” You smiled again.

Joel would’ve fallen to his knees if you had stayed longer with that damn smile of yours. But you turned around to speedwalk towards the other side of the pool, blowing your whistle and reprimanding a bunch of teenagers running across the slippery poolside.

And if he thought the front of you was stunning, he was quickly shown that your back view was just as providing.

“You’re staring,” Sarah observed, tugging at his arm.

Joel cleared his throat.

“Let’s go home, pumpkin.” He ruffled her hair, much to a fit of giggles, and led his daughter away from the outdoor pool.

—-------

Saturday afternoon did not come quickly enough. 

After a week of late nights spent finishing drywall and early mornings making Sarah’s lunch—because there was no way in hell she was going to eat whatever junk-filled shit the American school system provided in cafeterias—Joel was tired, to say the least.

By three o’clock sharp, he had arrived at the pool with his daughter dressed to the nines in a robot-themed swimsuit and bright green goggles that suctioned so hard into her little face that she looked wide-eyed and cartoonish.

And when four o’clock had rolled around, Joel was happy to report that his daughter had finally worked up the nerve to get in the pool. With your help (and some floppy-haired assistant coach), Sarah had also managed to do some basic swimming manoeuvres without clinging to the side for dear life and frothing at the mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Joel approached you after the session had officially ended, and Sarah was dried off and warm. “Just wanted to thank you. And, uh, Coach Bryan for, you know…”

“No thanks necessary, Mr Miller.” You winked, then bent down to Sarah, who stood beside her father. “You did great, Sarah. Really.”

Sarah smiled sheepishly. Joel chuckled at her bashful demeanour and ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Same time next week, Coach?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You saluted him and walked off toward the shower rooms, a towel around your shoulders and a spring to your step.

Joel shook his head, smiling, and took Sarah home in a better mood than he had been that morning.

—-

Joel quickly learned that the swimming lessons were beneficial to both him and his daughter. Sarah was speedily conquering her fear of water, and Joel was… well, Joel spent a lot of time talking to you when you weren’t in the pool. And afterwards, too, when the rest of the kids had already left and there were no other parents to chat your ear off.

“You’re taking a gap year?” Joel mused after one particularly smooth sailing session, taking off his sunglasses and hanging them on the hem of his shirt.

“Yep. Just taking a break after college so I can figure out what I wanna do in life.” You shrugged. “Is being a contractor any fun?”

“Well, sweetheart, I doubt you’d like it very much.” Joel smiled, glueing his eyes to yours with steely resolve. 

He was not going to look down at your body this time. He was not going to ogle the tight fit of your one-piece. He was better than the average man.

Besides, you were definitely too young for him. Possibly even young enough to be his daughter. You’d likely recoil in disgust and horror and, possibly, contact the local authorities to capture him, the creepy older man, if he were to ever make a move.

“Eh. I was open to the idea.” You laughed, shaking your head. “But I guess it’s dominated by big, strong hunks like you, huh?”

“I mean, I—” Joel began, but cut himself off upon realising what you had just said.

He blinked. Did you just flirt with him?

As if sensing that Joel was getting somewhere other than friendly banter with her swimming teacher, Sarah jogged up to the two of you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Let’s go home!” She pulled at his wrist.

Joel cleared his throat, offered you a quick goodbye, and led his daughter outside back to their car.

—-

“I promise it’s funny.” Bryan nudged your shoulder, giving you a very indiscreet once-over.

Joel was shamelessly eavesdropping on your post-lesson conversation as he towelled Sarah’s unruly hair nearby. Not to be nosy, of course, just to find out whether he was your boyfriend or not. Out of pure curiosity, really. No ulterior motive whatsoever…

“I somehow doubt that.” You hummed, no amusement evident in your unimpressed tone.

“Okay, so, there’s this ginger, a brunette, and a blonde—”

“I’ll stop you right there, Bryan, is the punchline, by any chance, ‘breaststroke’?”

“Well, shit.” Bryan sighed.

Joel chuckled to himself, giving Sarah one last tousle with the towel before settling it over her shoulders. 

He concluded you either hated your boyfriend, or he wasn’t your boyfriend at all. 

Joel preferred the second option.

—-

“I’m just getting some water. You okay with the kids?” You pulled yourself out of the pool, glancing at Bryan.

“Yep. All good here,” He called back.

With a nod, you draped your towel over your shoulders and made your way towards the deck chair that held your things.

It seemed that the heavens were smiling on you that day, too, because none other than Mr Miller himself occupied the chair beside yours.

And what a sight he was.

Sun-bathing, his sunglasses resting over closed eyes, and his broad, bare, tanned chest exposed to all. 

“Having fun there, Mr Miller?” You smiled, taking a seat on your chair, bringing your water bottle to your lips.

Joel lowered his sunglasses and very discreetly let his gaze travel down your body. 

You bit back a grin. He always thought he was so subtle.

“Absolutely, coach. Need to set a timer, though, or I’ll end up medium well-done.” Joel sat up, facing you.

You snorted at his dad-humour.

“Tan looks great.” You commented, wiping your brow with your towel.

“You think?” Joel smiled, reaching for the can of soda on his side table and taking a sip. “Thank you very much, sweetheart.”

“No problem at all, Mr Miller.” You licked your lips, your gaze momentarily caught on his … form-fitting trunks. “Well, I better get back to it.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” He pushed his sunglasses back up his aquiline nose.

“My—oh! Oh. Bryan? No. Ew,” You held back a gag. “No. No. God, no.”

Joel chuckled.

“I think you may need one more ‘no’ to prove your point there, darlin’.”

“No.” You played along. “Him and I are strictly friends. Besides, he isn’t my type.”

“He isn’t?” 

“I like my men like I like my cheese.” You shrugged, standing up.

“Don’t say smelly.” Joel laughed.

You opened your mouth but decided to leave your preferences shrouded in mystery as you began walking off.

Well, until you threw him a look over your shoulder, catching him in the act of staring at your ass, but pretending not to notice.

“Aged.”

Joel choked on nothing while you innocently walked away like you hadn’t just made a heavily suggestive remark.

—-

“Daddy? Can I go talk to Amanda for a second?” Sarah asked, her gaze flickering over to a plait-wearing blonde girl nearby.

“Yeah, okay, sugar. Be quick, though. Tommy’s coming over soon.” Joel squeezed her shoulder before letting her run off, her wet flip-flops squeaking against the tiled poolside as she approached her friend.

Joel shook his head and smiled. He was so proud of his girl for overcoming her phobia. Maybe he needed to treat her to ice-cream one of these days–

“Hi, Mr Miller.”

After craning his head, Joel found you standing behind him. Bright-eyed and wearing that same, impossibly tight, lifeguard swimsuit. Thank God for nylon.

“Hey, coach.” Joel offered you a lopsided grin. 

“I just wanted to say, I’ve been really impressed with your daughter over these past few weeks.”

“She’s a fast learner.” Joel moved beside you, still facing Sarah and her little friend but keeping his eyes trained on you. “Unlike me.”

“Does she get it from your wife, then…?”

Joel couldn’t shake his head faster. “No wife.”

And there went his eyes, dragging down your slightly wet body. Christ, it was like you jumped straight out of a Baywatch episode—keep it together, Miller!

“Oh.” You coughed. “So that’s why all the moms flock around you.”

Joel let out a short laugh. “I think you’re exaggerating, sweetheart.”

You took a quick glimpse at the hoard of middle-aged women unabashedly staring at the wide-shouldered man next to you before returning your sights to the wide-shouldered man himself.

“I don’t think I am.” Your lips pulled upward in a small smile. “Well, anyway. Just wanted to catch you before our final lesson next week.”

“Our final lesson’s next week?” Joel sputtered out, sounding way less calm and collected than he had intended.

“Yeah. Unless you want to learn how to swim, too.”

“I think I’m all covered in that department, darlin’.” Joel smiled. “But thank you. For everything. I know this whole shindig is free, but I just wish there was some way I could repay you.”

You clicked your tongue and, if Joel caught that correctly, lowered your voice.

“I’m sure we can find some way for you to pay me back, Mr Miller.” You said innocently, but your half-lidded eyes told another story.

Before he could so much as utter out the first syllable of a reply, Sarah came darting back.

“Okay, Daddy, let’s go!” She took her father by the hand and spared you a glance. “Bye, coach!”

Joel tried to hide both his shock from your very obvious innuendo as well as his disappointment from his daughter’s very poor timing.

He rubbed a hand down the lower half of his face and nodded at his daughter. “Let’s go then, pumpkin.” He gripped her hand and turned to you with a slightly dazed smile. “I’ll see you next week, sweetheart.”

“That you will, Mr Miller.” With a quick wink, you spun around on your heel and made your way toward the shower rooms.

—-

As fate would have it, barely half an hour later, Joel found himself sighing unhappily and looking down at his daughter as he attempted to contain his frustrations.

“We just got home—what do you mean, you left your goggles at the pool?” Joel said through a deep exhale.

“Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to forget them.” Sarah shuffled her feet, her eyes locked on the floor in front of her and her fingers twisting the bottom of her t-shirt.

Tommy stuck his head out from the kitchen, one hand clutching a can of Bud Light and the other braced on the doorframe.

“Yeah, Joel, she didn’t mean to.” He piped in, unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, shooting him a quick glare.

His brother just smirked and took a sip of his beer.

Joel sighed and turned back to Sarah, pinching his nose bridge. “Look, pumpkin, it’s fine. I’ll just drive back to the pool and get ‘em for you, okay?”

Sarah frowned. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Yeah, Joel, you better be. You’re the one making it.” Tommy let out a dramatic huff.

Joel ignored him.

“Won’t take but a hot minute.” Joel ruffled Sarah’s unruly curls and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning away toward the front door.

“Say ‘hi’ to sweetheart for me, if you see her!” Sarah smiled up at him.

Joel paused mid-step, his shoes halfway on.

“Hi to who, now?” Tommy leaned closer.

“That ain’t her name, pumpkin.” Joel chose not to look directly at Tommy as he huffed out another sigh and yanked his shoes fully on.

“Ain’t that what you call her, though?”

“Now, who are you callin’ ‘sweetheart’, Joel Miller?” Tommy wore a shit-eating grin on his face.

Joel decidedly ignored him, believing it to be the best course of action.

“Watch my kid, Tommy!” He called as he stepped out of the house.

—--

The pool area was mostly deserted by the time Joel returned to it, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the lengthy stretch of lane-roped waters.

Joel walked a slow lap around the perimeter of the pool, scanning the tiles and lounge chairs and the lone lifeguard tower for any sign of Sarah’s goggles.

Nothing.

Turning around, Joel’s eyes landed on the entrance to the womens’ locker rooms. He huffed out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his grey-flecked hair. He would have preferred to not snoop in there in fear of startling any lingering guests, but he decided that there wouldn’t be anyone this close to closing time on a Sunday and, moreover, didn’t want to come home empty-handed and disappoint his daughter.

So, on he went.

The locker rooms were quiet when he tentatively stepped inside, the scent of chlorine and cheap soap clinging to the air. 

Fortunately, it seemed that he was the only one in its vicinity.

And, even more fortunately, Joel immediately spotted Sarah’s bright green goggles lying by its lonesome on a bench near the showers.

Gotcha.

He was ready to make a beeline for them and head quickly home, but upon taking a few steps forward, Joel’s ears caught the distant sound of a shower running.

Turning his head toward the source of the splashing sounds, Joel’s eyes immediately noticed a swimsuit hanging precariously off the shower curtain rod.

But not just any swimsuit. It was a red one-piece with what appeared to be ‘lifeguard’ in bold, along the front.

It was your swimsuit. 

You were in the shower.

Joel pursed his lips. Just his fucking luck. Of course, the inappropriately young girl he tried not fantasising about for weeks was the only other person there.

Mentally chastising himself for even entering the locker rooms in the first place, Joel pivoted sharply and began making his way toward the exit.

He didn’t get very far, though, because, after two intentionally light steps, he heard his own name drifting from the steaming shower.

“Joel…”

He stiffened. Evidently, he was caught. He’d have to apologise profusely and somehow testify that he was not, in fact, a perverted Peeping Tom—

“Joel,” You sighed, followed by … shit, was that a moan?

And at that moment, Joel realised that, alongside the splashing of water echoing from the stall, there was the unmistakable clap and squelch of—

“Joel! Oh… fuck,” Your breathy moan carried easily down the short hall.

You were fucking yourself to the thought of him.

Shit, shit, shit.

If Joel were a better man, he would already be in his car, driving home. He would have forgotten this encounter had ever occurred, tucked it deep into the depths of his mind, granted you a curt farewell for the final lesson the coming week, and proceeded to never see you again.

But Joel wasn’t a better man.

Judging by how quickly his dick came to life to rest, half-hard, against his thigh in his swim trunks, Joel was an awful person.

Well, he couldn’t come home nursing a semi, now could he?

Yeah. Reaching down to pull his throbbing cock out of his waistband was the right thing to do.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he leaned against a corner and slowly slid his fist down his stiffening length.

“Joel! Fuck, your cock feels so good!” Your pitchy whine floated down the room, amplified by the generosity of the tile acoustics.

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand. 

Out of habit, he tightened his grip around his base and fucked up into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and pretending it was your tight cunt he was jutting in and out of.

And it wasn’t hard to pretend, either. What with the sinful noises you were making a few stalls away, and the desperate pleas of ‘that’s it, Joel, fuck me harder!’

With pearls of precum dribbling down his tip and smearing along his hand with each thrust, Joel felt himself near his release. Judging by the increasingly airy quality of your whines, you were facing the same predicament.

Joel continued to fuck his fist, picturing you in various filthy scenarios. 

You, slowly wrapping your dainty hand around his hard-on and eagerly taking over.

You, on your knees, choking on his cock. 

You, tits smushed against tile as Joel fucked you with reckless abandon under the hot torrents of the showerhead.

Ramming brutally into your greedy fucking pussy, watching as his come-soaked dick disappeared in and out of your tight channel—

“Fuck!” Joel cursed aloud after a particularly enthusiastic thrust.

Suddenly, the water stopped. So did your noises.

Joel stilled. Oh, shit.

“Hello?” Came your voice, meekly. “Is … Is someone there?”

As silently as he could, Joel released his hold on his cock and carefully tucked himself back in his trunks.

Shit. What was he going to do?

Almost immediately after he regained his decency, the shower curtain slid halfway open with a faint metallic rattle, and you cautiously peered out, hiding most of your body behind the vinyl barrier.

“...Mr Miller?” You said, uncertainly, as if half-convinced he was some kind of dreamlike apparition.

Joel cleared his throat and took an instinctive step back.

“Uh—yeah. Just, uh… goggles. Sarah’s goggles.” He stuttered, holding them up weakly. “Her goggles. She left them here. The goggles.”

“Well, thank god you clarified that.” You smacked your lips, a sarcastic bite to your tone. The snarkiness soon faded from your expression once you added, with knitted brows, “you’re in the womens’ showers.”

“Yeah, I—” Joel winced. “I know.”

Silence.

After a moment or two, you opened your mouth to say something else, but the words died in your throat as your eyes fell on Joel’s trunks.

More specifically, the raging bulge making itself known in his lap.

“You’re hard.” You stated, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.

Joel’s eyes shot wide open. He glanced down, too, and sure enough, he was hard. It was almost as if he was fucking his hand to the thought of you only moments before. Oh, wait, that’s because he was!

To preserve the last shred of dignity in Joel’s inexecusably shameful body, he threw his hands over his groin and attempted to stammer out a valid excuse.

“Sorry, sweetheart—” No, he wasn’t. “—I, um… well, you see, I…”

Your eyes found the faint traces of precum on his right hand.

“Were you … jerking off to me in the shower?”

Yes, yes, he was.

“Frankly, darlin’, I think the better question here is, were you jerking off to me in the shower?” Joel coughed.

Your eyes trailed over his body, lingering again on where he covered his hard-on.

“I was.” Your stare found his. “Your turn, Mr Miller.”

Joel sucked in a breath through his teeth. There was definitely no backing out now.

He nodded slowly. Reprehensibly. 

Shame churned within him as he desperately wished for the ground to open up at his feet and swallow him whole, possibly even spitting him back out into the fiery pits of hell where he so clearly belonged after what he had done. Unfortunately for him, the earth, indifferent to his suffering, remained stubbornly solid beneath him, leaving him stranded in his own mortification.

“Look, sweetheart, I can’t express how sorry I—lord almighty.”

Instead of letting him scramble to finish whatever bullshit he was cooking up, you decided to pull the shower curtain all the way back.

Joel gulped, taking in your newly-exposed bare body, from the soft curve of your breasts to the thickness of your thighs to the seam of your … fuck, to the seam of the same pussy you were probably fingering just moments before; glazed in glistening beads of water under the cool fluorescent lights. 

You were fucking gorgeous. 

So gorgeous, in fact, that Joel felt his cock fully spring to life at the sight of you, standing naked and dripping-wet from the rain of showerhead.

“Let me… let me help you out.” You bit your lower lip, your eyes hazy.

“H-Help me out?” Joel breathed, staggering backward, his hands still persevering to conserve his modesty.

You slowly approached him, stopping when any semblance of personal space was lost, and dropped down to your knees.

Jesus Fucking Christ. 

Joel heard himself swallow.

“Don’t you want this, Mr Miller?” You looked up at him, your eyes pleading and almost doll-like from that angle.

While waiting for his response, your hands softly wrapped themselves around his, guiding them away from his lap to meet his tenting swim trunks head-on.

Joel, meanwhile, was busy trying to convince himself this wet dream of a situation was really happening whilst simultaneously refraining from spending his load in his trunks, because the vision of you, bare and waiting patiently on your knees, looked downright sinful.

“Doesn’t matter if I do.” Joel shook his head slowly, not registering the fact that his grip on the goggles loosened to a point where they fell to the floor in a dull clatter. “This… this is wrong.”

“The way I see it,” You hummed, your hands finding gentle purchase on his hips. “I’m naked. And already wet. And you’re…”

Your eyes flickered down to his bulge and wet your lips. Upon seeing this, Joel’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Ain’t there some—some rule against, I don’t know, a coach fraternising with a parent in this way?” Joel furrowed his brows, distractedly taking your chin in his hands and tilting your head upwards.

“No.” You eagerly let him direct you, moving at his will. 

“You sure?” 

“Positive.” The corners of your mouth pulled up in a small smile.

“What if someone comes—yeah, fuck it, I ain’t gonna keep pretending like I don’t want this.” Joel shook his head, his eyes dragging over you unabashedly.

“Oh yeah?” Your smile only widened.

“Go on then, darlin’.” Joel purred, his voice a low and rough timbre, his eyes overtaken with want. “What was it you said a while ago…? Help me out.”

With his less-than-reluctant approval, you tossed him another heart-stuttering wink, slipped your fingers past his waistband, and pulled him out.

And, fuck, you were not disappointed.

Joel was big, to say the least; in both length and girth, and you may have felt your cunt quivering at the mere thought of the possibility of taking him inside you later, but you were quickly overtaken by need upon seeing the drops of precum spilling from of his head.

With a hand wrapped around his base, you stuck your tongue out to lick a stripe up his length, tasting the salt of his skin and his arousal.

At your actions, Joel inhaled a sharp breath.

“You gonna finish what you started now?” Joel mused from above you, closing a fist around your grip on his cock and bringing it closer to your parted lips. He gently tapped your cheek with his free hand. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

And you gladly did so, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his head like a fucking lolipop.

“Fuck,” Joel gritted his teeth, tossing his head back against the wall.

Taking his expletive as a sign to continue, you proceeded to hollow your cheeks and take his length deeper, as deep as physically possible without making you choke. 

“That all you can take?” Joel tutted, caressing your cheek.

Much to your determined efforts, you only managed to fit a little more than half of him in your mouth. Because, fuck, was he big.

You whined around his cock in response.

“Shh,” Joel murmured. “‘S okay. ‘S okay, sweetheart.”

His deep brown gaze met yours, and for a second, you could have mistaken the emotion swimming in his eyes as affection. 

“Nice and slow, hm?” Joel said through a satisfied exhale, his brows furrowed at the sensation of being enveloped by the warmth of your mouth. 

His fingers threaded through your hair, coming to grasp at your roots, but remained stationary, waiting for you to make the first move.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes and held that eye contact as you began moving your head back and forth. Seeing his eyes briefly flutter in pleasure, you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling it twitch as you continued your movements.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it.” His grip in your hair tightened.

You started to bob your head up and down at a quicker pace as you sucked him greedily, your hand moving in deft strokes along the stretch of his length your mouth couldn’t entertain.

Joel cursed under his breath and guided you on and off his cock in a steady rhythm as he fisted your hair.

And, fuck, he let himself thrust into your mouth once or twice, but upon hearing you gag, resolved to let you take charge of the speed entirely.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Joel breathed. “Sounded pretty chokin’ on my cock, but I guess I went too far, hm?” He sighed, caressing your cheek again.

You moaned with his cock heavy on your tongue, signalling your eagerness to die of asphyxiation from a fucking blowjob, and begun to take him even further into your mouth, feeling his head touch the back of your throat.

“Shit, darlin’.” Joel groaned. “That’s a good girl. Taking it so well.”

A strangled sound escaped from your otherwise occupied throat as you continued to deepthroat a man old enough to be your father.

Truly realising the situation you found yourself in, you felt a needy sensation thrum from in between your legs. Whilst continuing to bob your head around his cock, your hand went to trail down your front and relieve some of that tension you ached to be rid of, rubbing your clit furiously.

“Oh, my poor girl.” Joel cooed, seeing this. “Come on, now. Up you get,” He gently pulled you off his cock (wincing at the loss of your mouth) and up to stand in front of him.

“Not good?” You breathed, resting a hand on his chest while his hands settled on either side of your waist.

“No, sweetheart, it was very good.” Joel dipped his head down so his mouth was less than an inch away from yours, every word releasing as a warm breath against your lips. 

And then he leaned down to capture your mouth in a desperate, hungry, horribly sloppy kiss, licking into you and no doubt tasting his own arousal on your tongue.

You didn’t even register he was walking you backward until your back hit the shower wall.

“Just wanna fuck you now,” Joel mumbled, his half-lidded stare drifted down your bare form before flickering back up to meet your eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You smirked, pulling him back into another frenzied kiss.

Joel smiled against your lips.

“So mouthy,” He tutted in that authoritative, paternal voice you’ve heard him use before, in between eager kisses. “I’d like to teach you a lesson, sweetheart, but I’m afraid I’m too fuckin’ impatient myself right now.”

At the sound of that, you clenched your thighs together.

The slant of his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting at your wet skin, humming in pleasure as he did so. Simultaneously, his big, calloused hand made their way from your waist down to your lower abdomen, and lower, still, until you felt his fingers ghost over your slick entrance.

You gasped.

“Mr Miller–”

“‘Joel’, darlin’. It’s ‘Joel.’” He mumbled against your neck, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin. “Heard you moanin’ it in here a while ago, I’m fairly certain you know how to pronounce it.”

“Joel,” You obliged, biting your lower lip as you felt Joel’s fingers meander nearer to your core.

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“You don’t have to… you know,” You glanced down in between both your bodies.

Joel followed your gaze and saw his own fingers hovering close to your aching mound.

“Think I do.” He clicked his tongue. “Need to get ya ready. Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty pussy of yours when I… well, to put it bluntly, darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt your pretty pussy when I’m fuckin’ you in a little bit.”

“Oh,” You breathed.

“Yeah,” Joel hummed, nudging your cheek with his nose. “That sound good to you, sweetheart?”

You nodded almost too avidly.

“Good,” Joel sighed, his fingers skimming over your aching cunt and just barely dipping inside your folds. “Just relax, darlin’. I gotcha.”

That was the last of the preamble before you felt one of his fingers slip inside, dragging up and down against your walls.

Normally, if left to your own devices, you were barely satisfied with a singular digit of your own. But here you were, gasping and clenching around just his middle finger.

Content with your reaction, Joel kissed your neck and slipped another finger to crook alongside the first in an even rhythm that began to spark a familiar warmth in your gut.

“There we go.” He mumbled against your skin.

“Fuck,” You whispered as you felt his thumb settle on your clit.

You felt Joel smile against your pulse point. And then, with his other big hand, he gently held your face and titled it to the side to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“You can take another, can’t you? Yeah, you can.” Joel hummed, and before you could respond, you felt a third finger slip inside, stretching you wider. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as Joel’s fingers curled inside you at a faster rhythm while his thumb graciously swiped at your clit.

Blood pounded in your ears. Your breathing shallowed. You were so, so close.

“Joel, please…” 

“Please what? C’mon, baby, use your words like a big girl.”

His fingers only sped up, dragging against your walls so deliciously and filling you better than your own hand could have ever done.

You inhaled.

“Please don’t s-stop.” Your breath hitched in your throat. “I’m so close.”

“You wanna come for me? ‘S that it?” Joel cooed, his breath warm against your skin and right beside your ear.

“Please,”

“Come for me then, sweetheart. Let me hear you,”

With a scream of his name, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, sending you into a light-headed bliss as you clutched his big upper arms.

His fingers only began to slow once your cunt stopped pulsing rapidly around him, and when you caught your breath again, he tenderly slipped them out.

“Made a mess of my fingers, huh?” He mumbled, staring down at how his hand glistened with your arousal.

You felt your cheeks redden.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t fucking be,”

And you watched as Joel stuck a finger in his mouth and sucked your slick off it like it was a world-class dessert.

“That was hot,” Was your breathless response.

Intelligent.

“Oh yeah?” The corner of his lips tugged upward as his eyes danced from your own to your parted lips. 

“Yeah,”

A soft, low laugh rumbled in his throat.

“Come here,” Joel sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back and another on the side of your face, leaning down to devour your lips in another messy kiss.

His tongue slid inside your mouth as if starved, licking against your tongue and letting you taste your own pleasure. All while the hand on your face brought you closer and gently stroked the curve of your cheek.

After a few moments, Joel broke the kiss almost regretfully.

He barely pulled away, his lips closely within reach of yours, and his breath mingling with your own as he spoke in a deep, gruff rasp.

“You still want this, sweetheart?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Joel smirked. “A simple ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed.”

Before you could form a response to his slightly snarky remark, your breath was stolen from you at the sight of Joel tugging down his trunks fully and stepping out of them.

Glancing down, you found that he was still incredibly hard. Almost painfully, by the look of how his cock practically bounced up to his navel. Clearly, your recent oral assistance did nothing to tame the lust in his body.

Joel crowded you up against the wall once more, his tall frame easily looming over yours. One of his big hands went to caress your jawline, angling your head up toward him, and the other went to your thigh, wrapping your leg around his waist.

“Been a while for me.” He sighed, a hint of embarrassment peeking through his tone. “You tell me if I get … carried away, yeah?”

Instinctively, you hung your arms around his wide shoulders, bringing him even closer.

“Yes, sir.” Your lips quirked upward.

“Good girl,” He hummed, his thumb absently running along your bottom lip.

Then, the hand cupping your face went to guide his aching dick to notch against your entrance, sliding against your wet mound.

And, with a shaky inhale slipping past his lips, he sheathed himself inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Joel muttered lowly.

You let out a whine at the feeling. 

Despite being barely halfway in, Joel was already proving to be more than sufficient, especially from the way your velvety walls were already pulsing wildly around his length.

“I know, I know, I know,” Joel sighed, his thumb caressing where he held a grip on your thigh. “‘S okay, sweetheart. Shh, you can take it.”

In response, you nodded.

And Joel drove himself the entire way, balls-deep, his greying pubic hair tickling the inside of your upper thighs. He gasped in your ear at the feeling of the first full thrust and at the sensation of your channel clamping desperately around him.

He filled you up so fucking well.

“You doin’ okay? Hm?” He mumbled, leaving lazy, aimless kisses along your neck.

“Need more.” 

“Oh? She wants more, huh?” He smirked against your skin. “That what you were imaginin’ in the shower?”

“Y-Yeah,” You whispered.

“Flirtin’ with me for weeks now, and here you are bein’ all shy.” Joel tsked. “Don’t worry, you’ll get more, darlin’.”

Joel began sawing in and out of you at a relaxed pace, letting out low groans of satisfaction. 

With every sloppy thrust, you heard the distant wet thud of your back against the shower tiles, sounding in a steady rhythm. But, despite each measured roll of his hips sending white-hot shivers throughout your throbbing cunt, you found yourself dangerously craving even more.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” Joel hummed coyly.

“Joel,” You whined.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled against the corner of your mouth.

You only realised you were moaning obscenely loud when the echo had bounced around the room, and Joel was muttering something encouragingly into your skin.

“That’s it. Y’sound real fuckin’ pretty.”

Joel’s thrusts had picked up the pace. The only sound competing with the volume of your moans were the crude wet slaps of his body against yours.

Slap, slap, slap.

You thanked your lucky stars the shower rooms were deserted after the swimming lessons, because you were sure even if someone happened to walk in on you two fucking like wild rabbits, you wouldn’t let him stop.

And some part of you knew that he wouldn’t want to, either. Not with the way he was breathing airy curses beside your ear and mumbling about how ‘fuckin’ tight’ you were and other such filthy ramblings.

After a particularly harsh thrust, you felt his pace falter and his dick twitch against your walls.

“Fuck,” He whispered sharply.

Out of the blue, Joel pulled out, leaving your slick mound vacant for a heartbeat or two before he spun you around roughly, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall.

And, not long after, he fed you the entirety of his cock again in one deep thrust.

“Joel!” You gasped. 

Your hands, stretched out in front of you and anchored against the wall, scrambled to find a grip on the smooth, slippery surface.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He said from somewhere behind you, beginning to ram into you at a brutal pace as he held you in place with an iron grip on your hips. “Needed—fuck… Needed this.”

With your tits pressed against the tiles and his length kissing your cervix after every drag against your pulsing walls, your vision began to blur and your lower gut began to flutter. 

You were very fucking close.

As if reading your mind, one of Joel’s hands trailed from your hip to your front, sliding down until he brushed your clit. And then he began rubbing the sensitive nub in sloppy semi-circle motions, tutting sweet words as you whined nonsensical syllables.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you,” He cooed soothingly.

You let out a pitchy whine, “feels so good.” 

“That right?” Joel mumbled distractedly, using a rough hand on your neck to turn your head toward him despite the awkward angle, and claimed your lips hungrily, licking desperately into your mouth as if it was the last thing he’d ever do, and letting out hoarse noises of appreciation as he did so.

His hips continued to jut into you, setting an erratic, jerky pace.

Slap. Slap-slap. Slap. Slap-slap-slap.

You arched back against him and unintentionally broke the kiss when the overflowing pleasure spiked incredibly high.

“J-Joel,” You breathed.

The man, who was single-mindedly pistoning in and out of your splayed legs, hummed a sound of acknowledgment in response, his warm breath ghosting over your cheek.

“Joel, I’m close,” You whispered, the heat of both your bodies meeting where your back leaned against his front. 

“Are you?” He replied almost casually.

His fingers only sped in their motions, swiping at your clit almost feverishly as he continued to rut animalistically into you; each thrust stretching your aching cunt impossibly wide and oh so easily finding your cervix—

“Fuck!” Your chest tightened.

“Ask for it.” Joel’s gentle yet commanding tone nearly made your knees buckle. 

That, and the manic force at which he was fucking into you.

Slap–slap-slap-slap—

“Go on, baby. Ask.” His nose nudged at the side of your face, breathing in your scent as he tutted lowly, “hate to see you all worked up like this.”

“Shit—please! Can I come, please?” You acquiesced.

You felt the muscles of his rugged face pull up in a small smile against your cheek and his dick twitch inside your tight walls, sending shivers down your spine.

“Be a good girl and come for me then, sweetheart,” Joel said in between strained breaths. “Come all over my cock, I gotcha.”

Your climax came rippling over your whole body, a prolonged resonance that sent you into the territory of overstimulation—much more powerful than your first orgasm—as neither his fingers nor his cock slowed down in their frenzied pursuits. 

So, there you were, chanting his name like a prayer and clenching tightly around his relentless length.

When the fluttering of your cunt subsided, Joel hurriedly pulled out and wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, fucking up into his fist frantically and cursing under his breath. You all but folded against the wall as you felt his loss, sticking your ass out and waiting for the inevitable.

Soon, his breath caught in his throat, and you felt hot ropes of his come spill over your back.

“Shit.” Joel sighed, gently rubbing along your sides. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder once he recollected himself a few moments after, still softly trailing his hands up and down as both of your breaths evened.

“You okay over there, sweetheart?”

You nodded weakly, unable to voice your satisfaction with your brains all fucked out.

Joel huffed a short laugh. “C’mon, I’ll clean you up.”

Somewhere behind you, the shower handle groaned with a faint squeak. A dull clunk followed, and then, with a sudden rush, water erupted from the showerhead, dousing the two of you in a sputtering cascade.

Gently, Joel tugged you away from the wall to stand directly under the jet of water, softly helping you wash away any reminders of your reckless impropriety.

He pressed reverent kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and around your collarbone as you got cleaned up.

There was no hidden, lustful agenda to this, as far as you could tell. You assumed it was either a result of his years of fatherhood or some testament to his overall caring nature, but either way, you weren’t complaining. You happily let your eyes fall closed as sheets of warm water streamed down your body, all while Joel’s lips tentatively found yours, then your neck, and his strong hands moved along your body.

“Um…” Joel began after he had turned off the shower, looking at you with his big, soft eyes. “I know this is the completely wrong order of things, but would you like to–”

“Yes.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Were you gonna ask me out on a date?”

“Yeah,” Joel laughed bashfully. "Is that... is that okay?"

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, and rising on your tiptoes to meet his lips in a lazy kiss.

“The answer’s yes.” You mumbled without breaking away for too long.

You felt Joel smile against your lips.

[sugarwarachan]

horny brainrot: bnha

andy's notes: ahhhh i've missed y'all!! getting back into the swing of things (work was hell this week) and hope you like this particular bit of filth while i crack into prompts

content warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, not free of spoilers just by character names alone lol, pregnancy kink, panty kink, oral fixation, brat taming, oral m!receiving, cnc, throat fucking, scent kink, slightly yandere behavior with feathers, size kink

characters: kirishima eijiro, tenko shimura, shinsou hitoshi, hizashi yamada, aizawa shouta, keigo takami, shouto todoroki

kirishima has the nastiest pregnancy kink, no one can convince me otherwise, so he's delighted when he finds out you have one, too. but when you're trying for a baby, your everyday life becomes horny hell because he insists on treating you like you're already pregnant. when you want to do something around the house, he tells you to "think of the baby," wide grin on his face when you flush and squirm your legs together. shows you maternity clothing ads of all the things he can't wait to buy you, patting your tummy. "you're gonna look so good in this sundress when your bumps start to fill out, honey." it gets so bad that literally the mere swipe of his thumb across your lower belly makes your pussy clench. (you get a positive pregnancy test two weeks later)

tenko puts on a pair of your silk panties because he has "nothing of his own left to wear" but he's actually been thinking about how the material would hug his balls ever since he pulled them off you days ago. the silk clings to his dick, dragging over the shaft with a feather-like caress. he groans and ruts his hips into his palm. pre-cum darkens the silk. arousal unspools in his belly and his cock twitches, aching at the fact that your cunt rested here, right where his balls now hang. your pretty pussy lips dragged over this fabric too, leaving your juices on the gusset. he rolls into the mattress, humping your pretty pink sheets. he hears whimpering and whining and realizes it's him drooling out your name into the pillow as he cums harder than he ever has

when you're done being a mouthy little brat, shinsou loves to cup your jaw and sink two fingers into your mouth, the cold metal bands of his rings clinking gently against your teeth as your cheeks hollow, sucking and humming around his digits like the greedy little whore you are. "look at me," he says, tipping your head back and holding your gaze. "keep your eyes on me while i keep your mouth full.''

hizashi loves when you take charge, when you tie him to a chair and stuff your panties in his mouth while giving him the sloppiest head of his life. he ruts his hips up into the delicious hot suction of your mouth, but you hold him down and pull away with a plop. you smear spit and pre-cum over your lips with the head of his dick, smirking when it twitches. you do this for hours, until his dick is flushed dark, engorged and aching, balls drawn up so tight against his body your mere breath against them is torture. when you finally let him cum, he explodes down your throat and onto your lips, a creamy gloss that you lick away after

the first time you broach aizawa about cnc you don't miss the way his jaw clicks shut like he's swallowing down every thought. "you're sure?" is all he asks and then you get a questionnaire in your email a few days later regarding hard limits. cut to a month later, he's fisting your hair and bullying his cock down your throat. "break eye contact and i'll paddle your ass raw." you're already slobbering all over his shaft, drool slipping down your chin and neck. your eyes burn with tears and mascara and you know you look like a fucked-out mess, but your body is tingling, flying. "you love to be used like this, don't you?" aizawa fucks even deeper into your mouth, rocking into the curved concave of your throat. "nothing more than daddy's little cumdump?"

keigo gave you one of his feathers for a totally normal reason, he swears - not because he wants to keep an eye on his attractive personal assistant on your off time. it backfires, though, because you know all about his feathers' capabilities. the first time you stroke the feather keigo thinks he imagined it. but no, the more he interacts with you, the more he memorizes your scent, the swollen bud of your lower lip. when he feels you kiss his offering, it nearly brings him to his knees. but he scents you next, the musky sweetness of what can only be your arousal. when he lands on your window sill and sees the feather slipping between your thighs, you merely smile and ask him what took him so long to get there

shouto "doesn't have a size kink" todoroki hearing you whine "it won't fit" when he slots the head of his cock against your pussy. he's never really paid attention to how much smaller you are than him, how much his body overwhelms yours. he'll have to work hard to make sure you're ready for him. he rubs your swollen clit with his thumb, the palm of his hand hot on your belly. your pussy jumps and flutters around the thick head of his dick, already flushed red and weeping. he taps your belly button, knowing that's where he'll be soon. "i'll make it fit."

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works pls. reblogs and comments always appreciated <3 If you'd like to be added to my general taglist, let me know!

general taglist <3 @cielito--lindo, @one-scarred-mofo, @uekarashi, @waterfal-ling, @iluvikeu, @bach-ira

[wonryllis]

HER VANILLA GREED (M) park sunghoon.

❛ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗐𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌.

featuring. enemy!park sunghoon who gets a taste of you and now he can't get enough, consumed with greed that can never be satiated─ albeit barely just quenched for a while. directory?

warnings. smut!! kinda dom!sunghoon feeling crazy. enemies pouncing on e/o, prn with bits of plot, rough sex, unprotected (wrap your willy pls), swearing, mentions of multiple acts.

part of, hold your breath event. prompts include “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” & fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back. ( wordcount, 944. )

JZLYN notes ╱ hope y'all enjoy it! & if you do please leave comments & feedbacks it keeps me going! & lastly please reblog!!

you loved vanilla and sunghoon loved your vanilla.

it's uncharacteristic of him to feel this way for his enemy, definitely; but after that one time he ate you out for a heated game of dare or drink, he has just gotten addicted. so so addicted that every time he catches a glimpse of you around the house he cannot help imagining the taste of you on his tongue, the waft of your scent dancing edges on him.

it was an accident─ a one time mistake if he may say. and how it turned into a regular thing? he has no recollection of it. the only thing he remembers are the spontaneous blowjobs in the kitchen to imprudently eating you out on the couch at any given chance you both got. which is whenever considering you live together.

oral had been the go to, for the past two months. no matter how turned on you both got, you just never threaded that line of linking more closely. making out and grinding against each other, sliding his cock against your panty clad pussy, jerking him off while he fingerfucked you; moaning into each other's mouth as you finished. but never hitting it in.

but tonight something changed─ something triggered.

a night together at one of the newly opened bars downtown. shots of alcohol in your systems and raging jealousy at others pawing for your attention away from each other. it was mutual, the way you both grew desperate and covetous. like you owned the other, your prized─ no, unwarranted possession.

“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” sunghoon rasps as he slides in, inch by inch, breath by breath. calloused hands gripping the tender skin of your waist, holding you up and pulling you closer by your hips. your legs wrapped around him like a cage of lust.

the veins in his cock throb with your warm cunt engulfing him. tight, slick─ and fuck it's full of your vanilla smearing all over his throbbing and twitching length.

mind a big mush, sweating dripping along sunghhon’s silver chain dangling between your thighs as he bottoms out. hissing out a line of curses at the feeling, his grip on you tightening.

“god your pussy’s insane─ can't believe ‘was gonna miss out on this,” sunghoon mutters out in a hushed whisper, words tumbling out in a single breath as he tries to compose himself. but it's so hard. his cock is so hard and keeping himself from completely ravaging you for his pleasure is making it even harder.

the sight of you is criminally arousing. your hands clutching at sheets above your head, dress tugged down and barely hanging low above your hips. skin flushed with sweat and your breaths coming out in soft anticipating gasps while you wait for him to start moving. it's atrocious how he does not feel disgusted at the even the glimpse of his enemy laying bare and inviting and with his cock inside her.

“park, move─” you let out a demanding whine. wiggling your hips against his balls in a futile attempt with his hands holding you still.

“you don't gotta tell me,” it does not take him a second to start thrusting. pulling all the way out till the tip and pushing back in a rough, brutal and almost hurtfully bruising smack. it's always been annoying to hear you call him ‘park’ instead of his name, triggering irritation above all. but something about the way it slips and rolls off your pretty little pink tongue right now just turns him on so bad, it's sickeningly annoying. it's sickeningly lewd.

sunghoon's pace gradually increases along with his sheer desperation to somehow want you more and more even when he's balls deep in you and painfully holding in the bursts of cum threatening to gush out amid each thrust.

his hands move to cup your cheeks, squeezing your lips into a pucker before he leans down to devour them in a messy and sloppy kiss. one that you can barely keep up with. mouth falling open in wild moans and your back arching so prettily into him, he can feel the hair on your skin standing, the slight trembles passing over you and heat emanating off in quick shivers.

it drives him crazy. your drooling reflection in his eyes as he pulls away to get off at the view of you struggling to remain lucid. his thumb skimming onto your wet glossed lips and smearing it over to your cheek.

you stick your tongue out at his touch, eyes closed in a sensual lick against his fingers and sunghoon loses it. grabbing your hair to tug your head back as he starts pounding into you, crazed and frantic.

“fuck─ why do you have to be so goddamn hot, fuck fuck fuck─ this is─ fuck─ ridiculous.” he grunts out in shuddering and shaky breaths. his head thrown back and mouth fallen open alike. he still cannot believe he's fucking you, and absolutely not how fucking sinfully good it feels. his enemy and roommate, two no-zones: crossed at once. and if that was not enough already, he did not have the patience to slip on a condom. and fuck does it feel like you'll milk him out dry.

“shit i can't stand looking at you─ you're gonna make me cum so fast,” each drag, each glide so torturously pleasurable.

“then cum. fill me up,” you mumble out, managing to graze your fingers along his chest and down to his lower abs. sunghoon groans at those words, his stomach churning and clenching up at the sensations.

he's gonna turn your vanilla into vanilla whipped cream he swears.

reg taglist. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle @ancnymcnzjy

event taglist. @sickntrd @matchacake2 @heebear @lostwonderwall @sunshine-skz @engenesengenes333 @soobheehoon @isagistar @heesky @jaeyungxrl

[pbpressure]

ballin' | p.b

"bet i get you wet now, bet i make you sweat now"

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, them being down bad for one another, jealousy(?), fingering, thigh riding, a little dirty talk, i think that's all lmao

word count: 4k-ish (sorry i'm a sucker for pwp)

summary: you and your beautiful girlfriend finally have the time to dedicate a night out to yourselves...or something like that.

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic about paige and it's been marinating for a while but ima stop acting scary and let y'all have it. this could technically read as a part 1...i have more written but it was getting pretty long so i found that the ending on this was a good stopping point. but, let me know if y'all want the rest! i tried my best to proof read so if i missed anything i'm giving it to god. enjoy! (if you hate it don't tell me)

date night was always long awaited for you and paige. between school for the both of you and the season underway for her, there was little time to dedicate to yourselves for something like a dinner reservation. undoubtedly it was understood that making time for one another was necessary and of course it came in many other forms, but this, an entire night to yourselves to do anything your hearts desired was so hard to squeeze in. until now.

excitedly texting your friends with your final outfit choice and starting your makeup way before you even needed to so it could be perfect, you were more than ready to get out of the house. paige had stepped out a bit ago to “get gas” and you anticipated at the very least being ready before she got back. you hadn’t seen her before she left with you cooped up in front of your vanity getting ready, but you could only assume that she looked as gorgeous as always.

finalizing your makeup with a lip combo you scurried to the closet where your dress hung. a backless halter neck mini dress, simple in your eyes. of course you loved it enough to wear it out, but not as much as paige loved it on you. the first time you tried it on for her some time ago you could’ve sworn you saw her drool a bit. her eyes immediately blown out, a smirk painting her lips as she tried to get her hands on you. there was no denying that it quickly became one of her favorite things she had ever seen you in so it was perfect for tonight.

you slipped into the dress, grabbing shoes to match and spritzed some perfume on before attempting to get some pictures to post later. before you could get more than a few flicks of yourself in the mirror you heard the jingle of keys unlocking the door. giggling in the mirror like a schoolgirl, you do a once over of yourself and walk out of your room to meet paige at the door.

when you see her you feel your heart skip a beat and you honestly have to resist the urge to moan a little. she’s got on some mascara to make her eyes pop, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves. she’s dressed in a short sleeved button down and a crop top that fits her frame perfectly. her jeans sit on her hips in just the right spot to show off her toned abdomen and her newest pair of sneakers. oh, and of course all of her jewelry catches the light perfectly.

to finish the look off she holds a bouquet of roses.

you don’t know if you want to giggle, cry, or drop to your knees to give her some of the best head she's ever known in her 23 years of life.

“baby, what’s with these?” you break the silence, creeping towards her with the biggest smile on your face. she extends an arm to wrap around your waist pulling you in for a hug after handing you the flowers.

“just a lil sumn for my princess. you knew i wasn’t gonna step to you empty handed, when have i ever?” she taunts, placing a kiss on the crown of your head as you pull back from the hug, quickly placing another right on your lips.

the kiss is sweet, just a peck at first. but when you both lean in for another you can’t help but slowly slide your flower free hand up the front of her body to then rest on the back of her neck. moaning into the kiss when you feel her tongue slide between your lips to meet your own, you feel warmth flood the pit of your stomach. her hands are low on your waist, one making its way to your ass causing you to gasp a bit as she smirks into the kiss.

you pull back first, holding eye contact with your girlfriend as she is very clearly stifling a laugh.

“thank you for the flowers paige, they’re beautiful” you whisper into the few centimeters of space between your lips and hers, your eyes glossed over as you look up at her.

“beautiful like you baby. it was only fitting.” she replies with a wink as you reluctantly pull away, still holding onto paige at the waistband of her pants.

“you’re so corny.” you mutter, still a little wrapped up in the kiss

“and you’re clearly in love with that," she retorts, "but you really do look beautiful baby, do a spin for me?" her voice a little lower this time, dropping one of her hands down to grab your own waiting for you to oblige, and of course you do.

she lets out a whistle, hissing after it. clearly you've got her right where you want her and this dress was a great choice.

"let's get out of here while we still can because part of me wants to bend you over right here and say fuck the dinner."

"paige!" you say with a giggle, finally separating yourself from her to grab your purse and phone.

she's waiting for you at the door with the goofiest smile on her face as you manage to pass her and make your way to the car without another word. she opens the door for you and waits for you to situate yourself inside before closing it and walking around to her side.

while she’s getting in the car you can’t help but stare. she always looked good, that was a no brainer. but maybe it was the thought of having her all to yourself tonight that had your mind going crazy. you’re analyzing her from head to toe several times over before you realize you’re squeezing your thighs together for some sort of relief. she stops at a red light, almost feeling your eyes on the side of her head before she turns to you.

“what are you staring at?” she asks with the raise of an eyebrow, making direct eye contact with you.

your mouth is still agape for a second before you can figure out something to say.

“you. you look good. i mean, you always do but right now i’m just thinking about how i have you all to myself tonight.” you respond, looking away from her as the light turns green.

“wowww..you have such a way with words baby, thank you” she chuckles, placing a hand gingerly on your knee to squeeze. your eyes are on her hand as it creeps up your leg until it’s on your thigh, heavy and now partially under your dress. she never takes her eyes off the road but you know she can feel the heat radiating off of you.

you don’t even realize you're at the restaurant until the car stops and is put into park. her hand is gone before you can process anything at all and she is out of the driver's seat and on the way to retrieve you from your spot in the passenger seat. she sweetly grabs your hand, basically dragging you from your dirty thoughts.

dinner is officially the farthest thing from your mind right now.

the restaurant is perfect. it’s dimly lit and not too crowded, a hostess greets you at the front.

as paige gives a name for your reservation you catch her eyes drifting over your girlfriend’s frame more than once. of course to your understanding paige is paying her no mind but her staring is becoming a problem and you have yet to even watch her pull up said reservation.

you clear your throat once and you assume she takes a hint. her cheeks flush before she mutters a quick,

”right this way.”

as you follow behind her and are led to a table you feel paige’s lips next to your ear, “if you can behave so we can enjoy ourselves here, then we can enjoy each other even more when we get home.”

scoffing, you place your hand over hers that’s resting on your hip, “yeah well as long as she gets it together i’ll have no problem behaving.” you turn your head and respond hastily without losing stride.

you’re sat at a table and quickly order a glass of wine before you can gauge the entire menu, almost opting for the entire bottle.

the situation with the hostess is nearly forgotten, as you and paige start a bit of small talk about how school and work are for you and how the season is going for her. how you’ve been managing a balance of things and how she’s been getting along with new teammates and such. then you catch another glance of the woman from earlier out of the corner of your eye and your thoughts are scattered. you hadn’t intended to snap, whether it had been at her or at paige. your girlfriend was always being watched, sought after, talked to. she’s paige bueckers, of course people would stare. at the end of the day you were the only person that mattered to her and she had made that abundantly clear since the first day you'd met.

it’s not a big deal. paige seems fine, just leave it be.

“what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” your thoughts are once again interrupted.

you hadn’t even realized you’d be thinking about this shit for that long. paige had finished her story about what happened at practice and just watched your mind wander off for god knows how long.

“sorry baby, i didn’t mean to zone out," you pause before continuing, figuring that there was no point in trying to lie.

"i just wanted to make sure you knew that earlier i wasn’t upset or anything. i did get a little snappy but i'm sorry, it’s not a big deal.” you ramble, looking off to the side at the end of your sentence to avoid her eyes.

“baby, it’s okay if it did bother you. but you know i’m not worried about anybody except you, right?” she starts, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

“of course. i’m okay babe don’t worry, i’m sorry for even bringing it up, tonight is about us and us only.” you respond, interlocking your fingers with hers and bringing her hand to your lips.

“you know you can bring up anything to me at any given time. that’s what relationships are about,” your gaze softens even more as you nod.

her voice drops a bit lower ensuring that only the two of you can hear, “and to dead any of your concerns i wasn’t even aware that i was being looked at until you said something, i was too focused on how good your looks ass in that dress and thinking about what i’m gonna do to you when i finally get you out of it.” she finishes.

you close your mouth, forgetting whatever snarky reply you'd been thinking of as heat creeps up your neck. both of your eyebrows raise in minimal shock. her expression immediately mimics yours before she can continue.

“you thought you could walk out of the house in that and i wouldn’t immediately be itching to take it off of you?” paige says, gaze drifting down towards your cleavage before finding your eyes again.

“no. that was the plan.” you say, raising your second glass of wine to your lips your tone a bit sultry.

“perfect.” she responds, before your moment is interrupted with your food finally arriving

the previous conversation is long gone as you dive nose first into your plate of pasta and also another story from paige about the team and their silly competitive games after practice. the rest of dinner went exactly how you’d hoped. no interruptions. just you and your beautiful baby over a nice meal and a little conversation.

two more glasses of wine down and you’re just as tipsy as could be. you’re focused on what paige is saying until you're not. your eyes momentarily find her lips the way they move while she’s speaking, how she occasionally licks them between a sentence or two before continuing, the heat between your legs quick to return.

you’re waiting for the bill when you get an idea. uncrossing your legs and extending your right one until the toe of your pump is met with her calf, you watch her facial expression falter. you sensually drag your foot up and down until she stops talking.

“didn’t i say behave?”

“baby, i don’t know what you’re talking about?” you taunt nonchalantly.

she notices what you’re trying to do and decides to play your game.

after placing her card down with the bill she's reaching towards your ankle that is now near her knee. her touch gentle, causing goosebumps to arise on the freshly shaved skin of your legs. nodding to the waiter that grabs the check, her attention is back on you. holding piercing eye contact with you she lightly draws foreign shapes on the parts of your outstrechted leg that she can reach.

"alright, that's enough." you say lowly with a playful roll of your eyes, attempting to pull your leg back down to the ground. she quickly strengthens her hold on you, raising her brow again.

"is it?"

before either of you can say anything else the waiter comes back with the check and a receipt, you use the shift of paige's attention to return your foot to the ground.

she scribbles down a signature and tip before quickly making her way to her feet, waiting for you to stand. taking your hand in her own she leads you out of the restaurant and to the car.

before she opens the door for you she mounts you to it with a hand on your hip, towering over you. you reach out to bring her head down to your own until you’re eye level.

“i want you so bad,” you almost moan, taking her free hand in your own and sighing desperately when she leans back standing at her full height.

“i can tell baby, you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” she responds, placing one of her legs between both of yours, smirking when your head falls back against the car door.

paige chuckles a bit before pulling your body towards hers so she can open the door and get you into the car.

the car ride back is comfortable. full of tension, but comfortable nonetheless. paige’s hand back on your thigh, you’re still tipsy as hell, taking photos and videos of yourself to distract from the throbbing between your legs.

when you get home you can’t even wait for paige to open the door for you before you’re out of the car and on the way your front door.

“hey, you know i don’t like when you do that.” she calls out from behind you with a frown as you’re trying to force your keys in the lock, fumbling a bit when you feel her body heat behind you. she cages you in, quick to press her front into your back placing hot kisses onto your neck as her hands are feeling you up.

you finally unlock the door and let yourselves in, careful not to disconnect yourself from paige. she shuts and locks the door behind you both.

“okay let’s make a deal, i’ll never open the car door for myself again if we have sex right now.” you say, throwing your purse and keys to the side as you turn in her arms to face her.

“deal,” she groans as her hands make their way underneath your dress, just to discover that the entire night you’ve been prancing around with no panties on.

“surpriseeee.” you drag out in a whisper leaving sloppy kisses all over her skin that’s gradually exposed as her shirt starts to fall off her shoulders.

she places one hand on your neck forcing your lips onto hers. it’s messy but clearly neither of your care. soon you’re backed against a wall. her other hand slides up your leg and under your dress, two fingers firmly pressed to your clit causing your jaw to fall open in a silent moan.

“should i fuck you right here? you just couldn’t wait to have me, maybe i bend you over now? hmm?” she mutters against your lips, applying more pressure to your cunt slowly tracing figure eights there until she feels more of your arousal leave you and leak into the palm of her hand.

“whatever you want—fuck, just do something..please” you pant, groaning as you feel two of her slender fingers enter you like clockwork. you’ve been wet since you laid eyes on her three hours ago and now several wine glasses deep you can’t help but feel like you’re already about to cum.

the moan you let out sounds borderline pornographic.

“miss impatient...you look so pretty like this baby. i’ve barely done anything and you’re gushing into my hand.”

“mmh–only get like this for you”

“i know. but you’re gonna ruin your pretty dress. the dress you wore all for me huh? just couldn't wait to have all of my attention?” she rasps into your ear, almost in a mocking tone while her fingers pump into you skillfully.

“yes baby, all for you– FUCK!” you try to keep up but she quickly curls her fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot almost immediately.

“we’re just getting started, you gonna cum already?”

paige teases, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent moan while she speeds up the thrusts of her fingers if humanly possible.

“mmm—i’ve w-wanted you since you walked in here holding fucking flowers.”

“i know mama”

“please baby, don't stop i’m so close” you let out in a string of whines, hand grabbing onto her shoulder for support as you hook your leg around her hip.

“let go, make a mess on me baby you know that’s what i want.” she whispers, messily mouthing your nipples through your dress, licking a line up the valley of your chest to the underside of your jaw, leaving a wet kiss there.

“FUCK PAIGE–“ you manage to let out before you feel that familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach and your eyes starting to roll back into your head.

“i know baby, i know” she shushes you.

your first orgasm of the night crashes over embarrassingly quick. you’re rambling words that don’t even make any sense, them falling deaf to your ears. paige is with you the entire time you ride out your high, leaving hot kisses over any inch of exposed skin her lips can find and whispering praise into your ear.

there’s a heartbeat worth of silence and then you pry your eyes open and almost cum again when you catch sight of your girlfriend. her lips puffy from all the kissing, a slight sheen of sweat across her face and chest, and her eyes hazy.

your eyes drift down to the few fingers that were just inside you and in record speed you reach down to bring them up to your own lips, tasting yourself.

paige lets out a groan, her head lulling to the side as she watches you intently as you carefully suck your release from each of her fingers.

before you can think of anything to say she’s got both her hands under you as she lifts you up. you let out a yelp and a slight giggle, still spent from how hard you came.

paige carries you up the stairs and to your bedroom before placing you on the bed. as she stands over you and begins taking off your heels for you there’s a glint in her eyes.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?” you mutter softly, never breaking eye contact as she throws your shoes aside and leans down, both her hands on the sides of your head, chain catching your eye as it dangles directly in front of your face.

“have you seen yourself? i had to try real hard not to lay you down in the backseat before we came home.“

taking her by surprise you wrap your legs around her and flip the two of you until you’re sat atop her lap, one of her thighs between yours. she’s got a look of shock on her face but one of her hands immediately lands on your thigh, the other resting on your hip.

“you’re wearing too many clothes paige..” you whisper, starting to peel her shirt off her arms completely. you sigh when the only thing separating her upper half from your view is a teenie black crop top.

you lean down for a kiss, using two fingers to pinch one of her nipples. you take charge, your head turned slightly to the side as your tongue slides between her lips. she moans into your mouth as her hand comes down hard on your ass grabbing a handful of the same spot that she smacked. it's your turn to moan.

you don’t even realize the way that you’ve begun grinding down against the rough denim of her jeans. she immediately noticed, helping you guide your hips over her flexed thigh as you whimper pathetically. your head thrown back.

"look at you baby. just using me to get yourself off, so fucked out you can barely hold your head up," paige utters.

ironically enough this makes you bring your head up and lock eyes with her again, a slight smirk on your lips. using every little bit of composure you have left you slow the motions of your hips.

“paige, earlier when i said it didn’t matter that you were being eye fucked by that hostess i lied. honestly…i was a little pissed at first. but then i thought about how i’d have you under me just like this at the end of the night.”

you change the angle of your other leg so your knee is placed right against her clit, then you start rocking back and forth with a little more intent, determined to get her off like this.

“fuck,” paige hisses, her head thrown back into the pillows. sucking on one of her fingers she pulls the top of your dress to the side to play with your tits.

you whine and bite your lip, holding eye contact with her as she’s fondling you.

“now i just wanna fuck you until i pass out. because nobody else will ever get the chance.”

“fuck" she groans, "baby nothing is stopping you."

this flips a switch in your head. placing your hand over hers that was on your tit you lean down to kiss her, never stopping your knees assault on her bundle of nerves. at this point you’re both a little spent, paige whimpering against your lips as she gets closer to her release.

“you gonna cum for me paige? you wanna give me that? i waited for this all night” you pant into her mouth, your own clit too sensitive by now from your previous orgasm.

“yes—f-fuck, i’m so close baby. you’re riding me so good i could cum just looking at you”

knowing that even when she was on the edge of her own orgasm she would never rob you of some praise pushes you closer to your own release.

freezing for a second you bring two fingers up to your lips and wet them as she watches. finally unzipping her pants and slipping your hand into her underwear you press onto her clit firmly, making tight circles shortly after.

"you're so wet baby...i guess you really do love this dress?" you tease, her head immediately thrown back into the pillows underneath her.

“shit—babe, i’m gonna cum” paige rasps out, not expecting to feel your fingers.

“give it to me. please?” you whisper in her ear.

she loses it. her chest heaving, legs moving underneath you. her hands tight in their gasps on your hips as she grinds up into your fingers, chasing the rest of her high. you leave hot kisses on her neck, sucking on her ear just a little until you feel her breathing become even underneath you.

you pull back to check on her and see she’s already looking at you.

“we're not even close to done. strip.”

[submattsmxmmy]

stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy stepsibling kink, blackmail/dubcon (kinda), begging, edging, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex, sub!chris????

🖤 summary: 🖤 after chris throws a party while your parents are out of town, you talk chris into letting you do something he wouldn't normally let you do in exchange for not ratting him out.

hiii it's @ariestrxsh reporting from my second account so i don't get canceled. you know the drill! don't like? don't read! sorry mom, sorry god, and sorry chris sturniolo. hope y'all never see this!

dividers by @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

The next morning, you woke up to the sun pouring into your window through your sheer curtains, Chris' arms were still wrapped around you as he softly snored beside you. Your head felt fuzzy from the weed the night before, and you had this groggy feeling that would take all morning to shake.

You heard a shuffling downstairs and sat up quickly, causing Chris to stir beside you. "Chris! I think our parents are home!" You hoarsely whispered, pulling the blanket off of you in a swift motion and staring wide-eyed at your door, ready for one or both of them to burst through any minute.

Your heart hammered away, ready for them to reprimand the two of you, first for the state of the house - and then for being in bed together.

"Don't worry. I told some buddies I'd give 'em free weed if they helped clean up from the party," he grumbled in a tired voice, completely unbothered.

You took a deep breath, the panicked feeling dwindling away and your heart returning to a normal rate, but you still felt a bit of unease. What would keep his friends from coming up and walking in on the two of you?

You'd just die if anyone you knew found out you were sleeping with your stepbrother.

"I told them a girl stayed over. They won't be bothering us at all," Chris told you as if reading your mind. He flashed you a smile before he yawned, stretching his arms overhead.

Your gaze met his for a moment after his perfect blue eyes fluttered open, but he glanced away almost immediately, worried you'd be able to see how soft he'd gotten for you.

You admired his full, pink lips, his disheveled hair, and the bit of stubble that was coming in on his face after a few days of not shaving. That's when a diabolical idea popped into your head.

"You know, you're still an asshole for throwing a party," you huffed, throwing your legs over the side of your bed and standing to your feet.

"You had fun," Chris chuckled, rubbing his eyes and replaying the events from the night before.

"You know, I should tell on you. Your mom would be pissed," you replied, giving him a mischevious grin.

"You wouldn't dare," Chris narrowed his gaze at you, trying to figure out what your angle was.

"I mean, I won't tell... if you can give me something I want," you replied, throwing a fresh shirt on over your head and shooting a smirk in his direction. Chris sighed, running his fingers through his messy, brown hair.

"And what would that be?" He hesitantly asked you. You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to assess what he'd do to avoid getting caught. He gave a deadpan stare, knowing you weren't just going to ask for a normal favor.

Regardless of what the favor was, he was inclined to do it. He'd been on thin ice with your parents lately, and he knew he'd be in major trouble if you ratted on him.

"Let me dom you," you demanded, placing your hand on your left hip and leaning into it. Chris scoffed loudly.

"You're outta your damn mind. I'm not gonna be your fuckin' pet you can do whatever ya want to." Chris crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Then you know who's gonna be outta their minds when they get back in town?" You retorted, fighting the smirk starting in the corner of your lip. Chris groaned, knowing it was in his best interest to give in to what you wanted.

"What's it gonna be, Chris? You gonna give me what I want? Or am I telling our parents about the little party you threw?" You wondered, tilting your head to the side and giving him an inquisitive look.

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked as if he were considering it, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"Whatever I tell you to do," you giggled.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're sick."

"Come on, Chris. I know you'd do anything for me," you replied, slithering back into your bed.

"I don't know about anything."

"Well, you'd do anything to save your own ass," you responded, climbing on top of your stepbrother's lap and straddling him. He let out a groan as you shifted your weight around on his erection that was pinned to his stomach, a sound he made partially out of pain and partially out of pleasure.

"Oh, my god. See? You're already hard just at the thought of me dominating you," you teased him, pinning his wrists above his head and rolling your hips forward. He made another noise, this time a little more desperate.

His cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment, realizing that whiny, pathetic sound did, in fact, come from him. You were surprised when he didn't immediately wiggle free from your grasp even though he easily could have.

"That's not why I'm hard, fuckin' slut," Chris rasped, lifting his hips up and pressing his cock into your clothed cunt. "I'm hard thinkin' about all the ways I'm gonna punish you after you have your fun."

"You ever been dominated by a girl before?" You questioned him, arching your brow and taking control of the conversation again.

"No," he responded, sounding agitated.

"Awh. Poor baby. You must be so scared right now," you said in a faux sympathetic voice as you stuck out your bottom lip in a fake pout.

"Scared? Of what?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Scared because you might like it," you poked fun at him. Chris' lip twitched, threatening a contemptuous smile at your accusation. His wrists strained against your hold, but not enough to break free.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'."

"Nothing, huh? Not even afraid of your friends hearing you whimper for me?" You cooed in a soft voice, still grinding against him. He tightened his jaw, fighting back the noises that threatened to spill from his lips. "I bet you're just dying for me to put it in my mouth, aren't you?" You purred, smiling down at him.

He flared his nostrils in frustration. "Do it then, slut, and quit talkin' about it," he huffed back.

"Not with that attitude. Come on, pretty boy. Ask nicely," you taunted him, leaning in and nudging his head to the side with your nose before your lips latched onto a vulnerable spot on his neck.

"Not a fuckin' chance," Chris whispered, hoping you couldn't hear the desire in his voice.

"That's too bad then. I guess I'll just kiss your neck and grind against you until you choose to be nice," you softly spoke, your lip tickling his earlobe. He swallowed hard. He could feel goosebumps forming on his warm skin.

"Works for me," he said in a cocky manner, trying to fight the urge to give into you. You noticed that he hadn't budged once from the position you had him in, his wrists still secured in your grip. There was something about the way that he was just letting you that was so hot.

You started sucking on his sensitive flesh, gently biting down and causing him to shudder and gasp. His dominant mask was slipping.

Never in a million years did Chris picture himself allowing some girl to dominate him and for him to like it. To be fair, though, you weren't just some girl.

"Such a good boy. So responsive for me," you whispered into the crook of his neck, your hot breath hitting his skin. You could feel the tension leave his body as he started to submit to you. "I bet you want me to suck on it so bad, don't you?" You seductively mewled, pulling away from his neck to admire his facial features.

His hooded eyes stared back at you with lust. His cheeks were flushed and pink with embarrassment and desire, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. "Mhmm," he softly hummed, nodding his head eagerly. "Suck on it."

"Ask nicely," you reiterated.

"Please suck on it."

"Beg for it," you told him.

Chris loudly sighed, preparing to make a fool of himself. "Fuck. Please, please suck on it. You're killin' me here," Chris whined, wetting his lips that were pink with arousal.

"I don't think you want it bad enough," you teased, rolling your hips once more and grinding against him.

"Fuck. It's fuckin' aching. Please put it in your mouth," Chris demanded in a breathy voice, squirming beneath you. You tightened your grasp on his wrists, giving him a look like you knew he could do better than that. "Fuck. Please. I'm desperate," he pleaded with you.

"Keep going, baby," you softly replied.

"I need it. P-please. Put it in your mouth," he begged.

A smile crept into the corner of your lip in satisfaction with how pathetic he finally looked and sounded. "That's it. Good boy," you complimented him, releasing his wrists and scooting down further onto the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows, peering down at the way you slowly slithered off his lap and positioned yourself on your knees between his legs. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pajama pants and his underwear, slowly pulling them down. He slightly raised his hips, and his hard cock sprung out, slapping his stomach as you set it free.

"Awh. Look. He's so pretty.. all shiny," you whispered, grabbing his shaft and admiring the clear fluid coating his tip.

"Don't... talk about my dick like that," Chris protested.

"Don't talk about him like what?" You asked, sneering at him as you circled his tip with the pad of your finger. This simple contact made Chris quietly moan, but he cleared his throat, trying to cover the sound.

"Callin' it cute names and talkin' about it like it isn't fuckin' attached to me. God, there's somethin' the matter with ya," Chris snarled, but the look on his face gave him away. He was secretly loving this, and you could tell.

"What? You don't want me telling you how pretty he is?" You cooed, looking into his eyes. He rolled his eyes, his chest rising and falling at a faster rate as his breathing pattern sped up. You leaned forward, your mouth hovering less an inch above his cock. You blew cold air over his glistening tip, causing him to shudder.

"Fuck," he moaned, tipping his head back. You tightened your hold on his length and started slowly stroking him up and down. He gazed back down at you, biting down on his lip. He wondered how long you were going to tease him for, and there was a part of him that didn't totally mind it - a part that maybe was even looking forward to it just a little bit.

You leaned in a little more and placed a tender peck on his swollen tip, causing his cock to twitch. "Awh. He's so sensitive," you cooed, kissing it again.

"Oh, my god," Chris groaned beneath you, trying to sound annoyed, but he was grasping at the sheets. You started working down his length, gently brushing your lips over his shaft and giving him soft kisses. Then, you worked your way back up, nearing his head with your mouth, and with every inch you moved closer, his breath grew more shallow.

You finally closed your lips down around his leaking tip and slurped up the shiny fluid. His hand flew up, and he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. "Oh, shit," he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut as they rolled back. His neck craned back, and his head softly hit your pillow.

"If you try to take control and push my head down, I'll stop, and we'll start from the beginning," you threatened him as you felt his grasp on your hair tighten. He picked his head back up, glanced down at you, and nodded.

He kept his hand there, but he loosened his grip, soothingly stroking your hair. He didn't use any force, but he was fighting the urge the whole time.

You were moving painfully slow - gently licking, tenderly sucking, lightly kissing. He started to whimper under the feeling of your mouth. The pace was driving him crazy. He was always used to making you submit, but being on the receiving end, patiently waiting for you to make your next move was so difficult for him.

You finally took him into your mouth, wrapping your plump lips around him and sinking down his length. He smiled down at you, using every bit of self-restraint he had to keep himself from forcing your head down and making you gag on him.

You hummed around his cock, and he had to bite back a loud moan. "I think you're liking this a little too much," you accused him, giving him a smirk. He didn't say a word, but his silence spoke volumes.

You went back to slowly stroking him while your mouth worked on his tip. Moans poured effortlessly from him again as he grew more sensitive due to your teasing. You bobbed up and down on his cock, drawing him closer to the edge.

You flicked your gaze up at him, his desperate blue eyes staring back. You could see the pleasure engraved in his expression, his pinched together brows, his slacked jaw, and his parted lips. You could hear his breathing turn into panting.

He curled his toes, trying to remain composed and attempting to keep his whimpering from getting too out of hand, but he was miserably failing.

Just when you thought he couldn't take anymore, you withdrew all sensation. Chris let out a defeated sigh. "I was so close..." He fussed, but he quickly cleared his throat when he heard how whiny he sounded.

"I know you were. I bet your friends could tell, too. You're being so loud. You trying to get us caught?" You giggled.

His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "Shut up," he barked back.

"That's not very nice, Chris. You wanna cum, don't you? Only good boys get to finish," you mocked him in a condescending tone. Chris nodded, his eyes silently begging you to put your mouth back on him.

"Tell me what you want, Christopher," you cooed, biting back a satisfied smile as you watched him struggle to uphold his collected facade. You'd never seem him so vulnerable and submissive before. It was driving you crazy.

"Please let me cum," he whimpered. You shook your head no with a glint in your eye, still lazily stroking him. Little did he know, you were just getting started.

He was growing more and more impatient, little whines slipping past his lips as you placed your thumb on his tip and started rubbing it. Your touch was heavenly and no matter how hard he tried to seem indifferent to it, he couldn't hide the pure pleasure he felt.

"God, you're falling apart," you smirked, your hungry stare fixed on him. You took him into your mouth again, repeating the pattern, starting off slow and then going faster until he was writhing beneath you in desperation. Then you withdrew all sensation again, earning a frustrated sigh from Chris.

You did this a few more times, watching him as he struggled, knuckles growing white as he tugged at the sheets, toes curling, screwing his eyes shut, and tightening his jaw. Then you'd stop, give him a smirk, and listen to him beg.

Chris usually needed really rough, really fast, constant stimulation in order to finish, but with how expertly you'd edged him, he felt like he could cum if you simply breathed on his cock a certain way.

"I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, please, please," he whimpered, his voice breaking into sobs, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You raised an eyebrow, a smile curling on your lips as you savored the sight, knowing it probably would never happen again.

Your gaze fell to his pretty cock, and you watched his precum mixed with your saliva leak out of his swollen tip and down his length. "That's it," you purred, twisting your wrist as you stroked him, his pretty sounds encouraging you.

You abruptly stopped when you felt his member pulse in your grasp, withholding all stimulation again. You weren't going to let him get off that easily. "You're gonna fuckin' kill me," Chris whispered, anticipation eating him alive.

You gave him a smile as you sat up and slowly started to remove your panties. Chris let out a sigh of relief, eager to feel your cunt wrapped around him, but you continued to move rather unhurriedly, slinking your underwear down your thighs like you were giving a striptease.

Chris watched hungrily as you slowly spread your legs, feeling the cool air hit your glistening folds. You teased him further, reaching between your thighs and rubbing your clit in circles. "How bad do you want it?" You asked, holding eye contact.

"I want it so bad. Please," he whimpered. You giggled at his desperation, and then you straddled him, lining him up with your entrance. However, instead of putting it in right away, you took your time, slowly dragging his swollen head over your slit a few times, taunting him even more.

A few more strangled moans passed through his lips as you slipped just the tip into your hole. He looked up at you with his needy blue eyes, waiting patiently as you started to slowly suck him in.

"Fuck," he whispered, reaching up and brushing away the sweat from his brow. You sunk down on him inch by inch, watching him further lose his composure.

Once you were completely stretched around him, you paused all movement, pinning his arms above his head again. "You want me to ride you, don't you?" You cooed, staying completely still.

"Yes. Please," he responded, his voice cracking in desperation as his wrists strained against your hold.

You figured you'd tortured the boy enough already, so you decided to finally see it through, giving him a bit of relief from your teasing.

You grinned and watched his eyes roll back as you worked at an unhurried pace, drawing circles with your waist and massaging him with your walls as you slid up and down on him. He relished in the sensation, a guttural moan passed through his lips. He throbbed inside of you, the knot in his stomach threatening to come undone any moment.

You sped up the motion of your hips, grinding on his cock as you peered down at his face, his features saturated with pleasure. "Be a good boy and finish for me, hmm?" You cooed. He nodded in response, a slew of pathetic whimpers filling the air.

You felt the muscles in his wrists tighten against your palms as his long-awaited release crashed over him like a tidal wave. His length pulsed inside of you, flooding your cunt with his thick, hot cum. His whole body shook at the feeling, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through him.

He looked beautiful panting beneath you, staring back with glossed over eyes and a blissful smile, his face turning an ever deeper shade of red as he realized how foolish and pathetic he must have appeared to you in his most desperate moments. He couldn't believe how he'd begged you to let him cum and then busted at you purring the words, good boy.

You smirked down at him, catching your breath as you finally let go of his wrists. His hands immediately flew up, and he buried his face in them, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"If you ever tell anyone I liked that, I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a fuckin' week," Chris chuckled once his shyness subsided, running his long, thin fingers through his disheveled hair that was sticking up in all directions.

"Ooh, fun. Don't threaten me with a good time," you teased. In one swift motion, he swung you off of him and pinned you to the bed underneath him, earning a squeal from you in response.

"Okay, you kinky little slut. What I meant to say is, if ya tell anyone I liked that, I'll never fuck you again. How 'bout that?" He replied, but there was no bite to his tone.

"Even if you weren't my stepbrother, I'd never tell anyone the things we do. That's private. Just between us," you told him with a bit of seriousness, your eyes locked on his.

Chris almost felt a deeper sense of connection and security with you after sharing such a vulnerable part of himself and knowing he wouldn't have to worry that the details surrounding it getting out.

He laid his head on your chest that rose and fell with your breath, listening to the sound of your heartbeat slow as you recovered. You played with his messy hair, gently sifting through each strand. "So, you won't tell our parents about me throwing a party while they were out of town?" He asked quietly, tracing circles with his fingertips over the top of your thigh.

"Hmmm. I think I just need one more thing from you before I can promise that," you smugly responded, softly scratching his head.

"What?" Chris groaned, anticipating the worst as he looked up at you with a pout on his perfect pink lips.

"Well, a cup of coffee would be nice," you chuckled. Chris gave you a relieved sigh and rolled his tired blue eyes in annoyance, but he nodded, thankful that your next request was much simpler than the first.

He kissed you before he slipped out of your bed and into his sweatpants from the night before that were balled up on your floor, and he trudged downstairs.

He made two cups of coffee, one for you and one for himself while his friends grilled him about who the girl was he had upstairs with him.

They all gave each other puzzled looks when he remained tight-lipped about it. It wasn't like Chris to withhold information like that. He was usually an open book with them about his sex life, probably giving too much detail. However, this time, he kept the conversation with them vague, a smirk still tugging at the corner of his lip.

It was kind of hard for him to not brag to them about banging his own stepsister, especially because he knew it would earn him high fives, praises, and envious looks, all gestures that would stroke his ego, but he held his tongue.

"Well, whoever you have up there, she sounds like she's enjoying herself," one of his friends commented, slapping him on the back. He avoided eye contact, his cheeks turning a rosy pink color as he suspected that the sounds his friend heard probably came from him, not the girl he had upstairs.

He composed himself, laughing along and playing it off while waiting for the coffee to brew. He gave each of them a joint to keep them satisfied without answering any of their questions, and he made his way back up to your bedroom with a mug in each hand, the whole time thinking about all the ways he was going to ruin you for humiliating him in front of his friends.

[readingkitty22]

You Were Mine First

Pairing: Alpha! Satoru Gojo x Omega! Reader

description: Gojo Satoru has been everything to you since childhood: your rival, your protector, your closest friend. And always, quietly, something more. From scraped knees to training matches, whispered confidences to shared silence, your lives have always been tangled.When Gojo and Suguru present early as powerful Alphas, and you, later, as a rare Omega, everything changes. Suddenly you're no longer invisible, no longer “just” a friend. You’re desirable. Vulnerable. A political asset to a lesser clan. And when your family arranges a match, Gojo reaches his limit.Because he’s the strongest and he’s always known one truth: You were his before anyone else had the right to say otherwise.

A slow-burn, childhood-friends-to-lovers saga set in an omegaverse where obsession brews quietly, affection runs deep, and nothing stands between Satoru and what he’s claimed.

⚠️Warnings Omegaverse dynamics (presentation, heats, bonding), possessive but not toxic Alpha behavior, sorta-explicit sexual content (18+), mild angst, arranged marriage elements, clan/political interference, emotional vulnerability, pregnancy references, mild language. No major character death. Emotional resolution and satisfying ending guaranteed.

w.c. 6.1k

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a/n: I am still SUPER new to this whole writing thing, but thank you all for liking and reblogging <3, I've been working on this little work for a bit and I'm still unsure about it. Hope y'all enjoy!

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Age 6

The first time you met Satoru Gojo, he offered you the red crayon.

Not the broken one. Not the short, stubby piece every kid avoided. He handed you the longest, sharpest red crayon in the box like it meant something.

“You can draw the wards,” he said, like you were already part of the team.

Suguru smiled at you from where he sat cross-legged on the temple floor. “He doesn’t usually share that one.”

You glanced between them,two boys from powerful clans, both still too young to know what their futures would cost them. You weren’t like them. You knew that even then. You were from a lower clan of healers, support staff. Useful, not vital.

But Gojo just tilted his head and said, “You’re gonna be around a lot, right?” You nodded. “Then you should start with the best color.”

And just like that, you were part of their world.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

The three of you claimed a disused storehouse as your base. You brought juice boxes and old charms. Suguru brought manga. Gojo brought chalk and spelled salt he wasn’t supposed to have.

You were eight the first time he laid his head in your lap.

“I don’t get headaches,” he said softly, like he was surprised. “But I do when I’m around too many people. You’re… quieter.”

“Quieter how?” you asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked up at you with those strange blue eyes, too bright for someone so tired.

“Like breathing near you is easier.”

When Suguru fell asleep with a comic book on his chest, Gojo scooted closer to you, drawing lazy circles on the floor with his chalk.

“I think we should make a pact,” he said.

You blinked. “What kind of pact?”

“We stick together. No matter what.” He glanced at Suguru. Then at you. “No matter who we grow up to be.”

You didn’t say anything at first. But you reached out and gently pressed the red crayon to the back of his hand like a seal.

He smiled, soft and secret.

And in the years that followed,when instincts started pulling you in strange, dangerous directions,he would always come back to that moment. The red crayon. Your touch. The feeling of safety he’d never find anywhere else.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 9

The shrine courtyard buzzed with late summer heat and the soft clatter of ceremonial prep,silk slippers on wood, hushed chanting, incense curling in the air like smoke from a dream.

You weren’t meant to be at the front.

Technically, neither was Gojo.

You were helping your aunt with the offerings,sprigs of purifying herbs, tied together with rice paper and string. It was busy work, meant to keep the lesser clan kids out of the way.

But you caught sight of him before the ceremony started,white hair mussed by the wind, half-buttoned yukata, sunglasses tucked into his collar instead of worn.

He grinned when he saw you.

“I snuck out of greeting duties. Suguru's covering for me.” He leaned close, whispering like it was a secret. “Said I had to ‘see the herbs in action.’ Very scientific.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t tell him to leave. You never really did.

It happened fast.

One of the elders from a visiting clan,tall, grim-faced, the kind of man who wore tradition like armor,caught you whispering over the offering baskets.

“Too noisy,” he snapped, voice like cracked ice. “This isn’t a playground.”

You dropped your head in a half-bow, voice quiet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You’re distracting the real assistants.” He stepped forward, hand twitching toward your shoulder. “Leave, child.”

You didn’t move.

Gojo did.

He stepped between you so smoothly, so silently, it almost didn’t register until the man’s hand stopped mid-air, just shy of his chest.

“She’s with me,” Gojo said. Calm. Clear. Unapologetic.

The elder narrowed his eyes. “This is a sacred rite. She is unqualified.”

Gojo didn’t flinch. “She’s mine to watch over.”

It wasn’t possessive,not quite. Not yet. Just... matter-of-fact.

The words hung in the air like static.

The elder backed off without another word.

Later, walking back down the stone steps with your sleeves bundled in your arms and sweat damp on your brow, you caught Gojo watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked. “He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Gojo shrugged. “Didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

You waited for him to tease. To make it a joke. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out and tugged a leaf from your hair. His fingers brushed your temple,so light, so careful,and he looked down at the crumpled sprig in his hand like it had done something wrong.

“Next time,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear, “just stand behind me.”

And something deep in your chest,something instinctive, old, nameless,settled quietly into place.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 13

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the training field. The air was warm but still, almost too still, as though the world was holding its breath.

You didn’t understand why Gojo insisted on this early-morning training session. You had no intention of trying to compete with him today,not when his cursed energy felt like it was vibrating in the air itself.

“Focus, focus,” he said lightly, jumping into a crouch. His hands were relaxed, casual, like he wasn’t preparing to unleash the full force of his power at any moment. But the air felt too tight, and even Suguru, ever the grounded one, was glancing sideways at Gojo in an unspoken exchange.

Then it happened,without warning.

Gojo’s cursed energy exploded, a wild burst of power that cracked the earth beneath him. A shriek of wind shot through the field. You stumbled back, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of it. Suguru’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t surprised.

You were used to this,used to Gojo’s strength, to his overwhelming presence. But this… this was different.

“Whoa!” Gojo laughed, standing tall and grinning, as if he hadn’t just nearly torn the air in half. He was practically glowing, the sheer magnitude of his power both terrifying and beautiful. “Guess it’s official, huh?”

Suguru didn’t say anything, just walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder, eyes flicking toward the distance like he was waiting for something.

“Yeah,” Gojo said, lowering his voice. “Guess it is.”

And then, just like that, the storm subsided. Gojo grinned again, as if it was nothing. He’d presented as an Alpha, raw and potent, the kind of power that left a permanent mark on the world. It had been so fast, so quiet, but so intense.

You watched him with a mixture of awe and concern, but before you could speak, Suguru was already turning to face you, his gaze soft but knowing.

“I knew it was coming,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “His energy’s always been too big for anything else.”

You nodded, unsure what to say.

A week later, Geto presented.

His was quieter than Gojo’s,his energy more controlled, restrained. It didn’t have the explosive violence Gojo’s did, but there was something just as intimidating in the way it rippled under his skin. Geto always seemed like the kind of person who would wait until the world was watching before he made his move and when he presented, that’s exactly what he did.

It was subtle. It was almost… calm.

But there was no mistake. He was an Alpha.

When Geto met Gojo’s eyes from across the field, he raised an eyebrow, and a slow, amused smile crept across his face. “Guess we’re both officially off the market now, huh?”

Gojo laughed loud, easy, like the universe was his to control. “About time,” he said, smirking in that way that made everyone around him feel both invited and terrified.

It started quietly.

You were sitting under the old cherry blossom tree, half-listening to Suguru talk about a recent mission while Gojo made cranes out of your lunch napkin. It was normal,comfortable.

Until it wasn’t.

At first, it was just a lingering glance. Then two. And then you felt it,noticed it. The way people were looking at you. Students who’d never said a word to you before. Instructors passing too slowly in the hall. A lingering, curious sharpness in the air.

Like they could smell something shifting.

Suguru noticed it before you did. His head turned toward you slowly, eyes narrowing, calculating. Then his expression softened, something sad and fond flickering across his face.

“…You presented,” he said quietly, like he was speaking a truth you hadn’t caught up to yet.

Your lips parted, confusion still thick in your chest.

Gojo sat upright in a second. His napkin crane crumpled in his lap.

The moment he caught your scent,really caught it,you saw it hit him like a wave. Not with hunger, not with something feral. With something… stunned. Like he’d been punched in the ribs by the universe.

His pupils contracted. Then dilated.

No words. Just pressure.

Suguru said it for both of them. “An Omega…”

Gojo’s jaw flexed.

Among jujutsu sorcerers, Omegas were rare. Especially rare in active bloodlines,your kind burned too hot, cursed energy tangled with instinct too violently. Most faded into support roles. Some were hidden by their clans, used for arranged bonds. And some… disappeared entirely.

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of just how exposed you felt.

Your scent was faint for now,still settling,but the students around you weren’t stupid. They’d start to recognize it soon. The way Alpha instincts shifted in your direction. The tilt of a head. The tightening of a jaw. The challenge in a stare.

And through it all, Gojo just looked at you.

Not with pity.

Not with fear.

But like he’d just remembered something he’d sworn to himself long ago: Mine to watch over.

Only now… it meant something else.

The next day at Jujutsu Tech felt different.

You tried to ignore it. Tried to walk the same path to class. Keep your shoulders relaxed. Pretend the weight of your uniform hadn’t suddenly become too tight across your chest. But the air knew.

So did everyone else.

It wasn’t even subtle.

The moment you stepped into the classroom, conversations slowed. Heads turned. And though no one said it out loud, their stares pressed against your skin like heat,That’s the Omega.

You weren’t the first in school history, of course. But you were the only one currently in circulation. Most Omegas were quietly moved to private training or matched with a pre-approved bond by their clan before it ever got this far.

You? You were still here.

And that made you… vulnerable.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

The worst part wasn’t the whispers.

It was the way some of the older students lingered a little too long in the halls. One of them,someone from a mid-tier clan you barely knew,bumped your arm in the corridor, leaned in a little too close.

“You smell different,” he murmured, eyes raking across your face like he had a right to look at you.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. Because before you could move, someone was already there.

Gojo’s voice was flat. “Touch her again.”

The boy turned, surprised. “Gojo—hey, I didn’t—”

“Touch her again,” Gojo repeated, low and cold, “and I’ll decorate the hallway with your teeth.”

There was no smile. No sunglasses. Just Gojo Satoru standing very, very still, his cursed energy curling around his shoulders like a stormcloud.

The boy backed off fast, muttering something under his breath as he disappeared down the corridor.

Gojo didn’t move.

He didn’t even look at you.

Not until Suguru came up behind him and said quietly, “You’re making a scene.”

That snapped him out of it. Gojo shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off, not looking back.

That night, Suguru walked you back to your dorm.

He didn’t say much at first. Just let the silence stretch between you like a thread.

Then, softly: “You okay?”

You nodded. “I didn’t think it would feel like this.”

Suguru didn’t smile. But his voice was gentle. “It’s not your fault people are idiots.”

You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “Is he mad?”

“Gojo?” He huffed. “Gojo’s losing his mind.”

“…Why?”

Suguru tilted his head at you like you were being ridiculous. “Because you’re you. And now, everyone sees it.”

You swallowed hard.

“He’s trying not to act like it’s bothering him,” Suguru added, almost too casually. “But you’re an unmated Omega in a school full of Alphas. You’ve been close with us since you were six. What do you think he’s feeling?”

You stopped walking.

Suguru paused too, then looked over his shoulder, something fond flickering behind his eyes.

“Just… don’t be surprised if he doesn’t handle this very well.”

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

You couldn’t sleep.

The day had clung to your skin,stares like needles, voices too loud and too soft at the same time. Even Suguru’s calming presence hadn’t helped this time. You’d spent hours turning over what Suguru said about Gojo in your head.

You’re an unmated Omega in a school full of Alphas. You’ve been close with us since you were six. What do you think he’s feeling?

You needed air.

The rooftop was quiet this late. The wind was cool, brushing over your skin like a sigh. You curled your arms around your knees, sitting beneath the narrow lip of the railing. It was one of the only places in the school that still felt yours.

So when Gojo’s voice broke the silence behind you, your whole body jumped.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

You turned.

He didn’t look like himself. No sunglasses. Hair messy. His uniform half shrugged off one shoulder, like he’d thrown it on without thinking.

He crossed the rooftop, quiet for once, and sat down next to you with a grunt. 

You both stared out at the campus.

The silence wasn’t awkward. Not really. But it was charged,a careful kind of quiet, like both of you knew what was sitting between you but neither had the courage to name it.

Finally, he asked: “How bad was it today?”

You hesitated. Then: “I’m handling it.”

“Don’t.”

You blinked, surprised.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said. Not angry. Just… quiet. “I saw your face after that guy touched you. You hated it.”

You dropped your gaze.

Gojo leaned back on his elbows, eyes toward the stars. “I’ve wanted to break a lot of people’s noses lately.”

You smiled. A real one.

Then, after a long moment: “Is it weird?”

He looked at you. “What?”

“That I’m… like this now.”

Gojo didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was soft. Careful.

“You’ve always been like this,” he said. “You’re just… more obvious now.”

You turned toward him. His expression was unreadable. Still boyish, still beautiful. But something in his eyes was older, heavier.

“It’s not weird,” he said, voice low. “It’s dangerous. For them.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Gojo looked away. His mouth twitched,not a smirk. A defense.

“I mean,” he said, “if one more person looks at you like they deserve you, I’m going to forget I’m supposed to be playing nice.”

Something deep in your chest curled up at that. Warm and sharp and aching.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

But you stayed there. Sitting close enough that your arms touched, listening to the wind and the distant buzz of lights. He didn’t reach for you. You didn’t lean in.

But his presence wrapped around you like a barrier.

And when you finally laid your head on his shoulder, he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just sat there, frozen and burning, until his voice,so quiet,broke through the night.

“I won’t let anyone take you.”

And he meant it.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 16

Three years made a difference.

Gojo had always been tall, always been powerful. But now he filled a room before he even stepped into it. Every Alpha on campus carried weight, but he carried gravity. He didn’t just stand out; he distorted everything around him. People moved when he walked past. Students whispered in the halls after he’d gone, like his presence left a burn mark on the floor.

And you… started noticing things you hadn’t before.

It was the way he laughed too loud at his own jokes. The way he chewed his gum and flicked his wrist to push up his blindfold with lazy confidence. The way people stepped aside, but he always reached back,waited for you to follow.

He still walked you home. Still saved your favorite snacks. Still rolled his eyes when Suguru got too philosophical and threw paper balls at his head during lecture.

But it wasn’t the same anymore.

One day, during sparring drills, you caught yourself staring,not because he was flashy, not because of his technique. But because he moved like lightning trapped in a boy’s skin. Fluid. Dangerous. Beautiful.

When he caught your eye across the mat, something flickered there,recognition. Like he knew.

He looked away first.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

It got worse when you were paired for weapons class.

Gojo held the bokken with casual ease, his grin tilted just enough to be cocky. “Try not to fall for me during this, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, heart doing something it definitely shouldn’t.

The duel was fast, brutal, and completely unfair. He pulled his hits, of course,but even restrained, Gojo moved like he was born to be worshipped. Your body reacted before your brain did, drawn to him on instinct. Not just the Alpha scent, not just the power.

It was him.

After the match, breathless and warm, you met his eyes across the mat.

He looked at you like he’d been waiting.

Later, in the quiet of your dorm, you pressed your hand over your chest. Your pulse hadn’t slowed. You could still feel the heat in your cheeks, the echo of his voice, low and amused:

“You’re stronger than most of the boys that try to flirt with you, y’know that?”

You hadn’t said anything at the time. Just stared at him, too aware of his height, the closeness of his breath.

Three years ago, he would’ve teased you. Tugged on your sleeve. Laughed it off.

But now, Gojo Satoru just stood there, watching you like the only reason he hadn’t made a move was because he wasn’t allowed to yet.

And for the first time, you wondered what would happen if he did.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

You’d been aware of the stares for weeks.

But today, it shifted. Bolder. Louder.

Someone from the Zenin branch house,older, polished, confident,cornered you after class. He wasn’t rude. He was respectful. That made it worse.

“I was wondering,” he said smoothly, “if you’d consider lunch together this week. I know it’s sudden, but—”

You didn’t get to answer.

Gojo’s cursed energy hit the hallway like a wave.

It was subtle enough to be deniable. Just a tightness in the air, like the pressure drop before lightning. Your would-be suitor faltered mid-sentence. He turned his head slightly, met Gojo’s smile from a few feet away.

Cool. Polite. Murderous.

“Am I interrupting?” Gojo asked, voice light, eyes unreadable beneath his blindfold.

You opened your mouth to say no, but your classmate already took a full step back. “Of course not. Excuse me.”

He left like the air was on fire.

You glared. “Satoru.”

“What?” He blinked, innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Gojo shrugged and leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder brushing yours. “Can’t blame a guy for hanging around when weirdos keep showing up.”

“They’re not weirdos,” you muttered.

He didn’t respond. Just stood there, close enough to smell, his body language casual. But the tension in him? Coiled. Hot. Barely contained.

Later that night, Suguru found him behind the training hall, still burning off energy with a practice staff, moving like he wanted something to bleed.

“You gonna kill every guy who talks to her?” Suguru asked, arms crossed.

Gojo didn’t look at him. “Only the ones who think they deserve her.”

Suguru exhaled slowly. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“She’s not bonded.”

“She’s not yours either.”

That finally made Gojo pause.

Suguru stepped closer. “I’m saying this as your friend, not hers. You’re not exactly subtle, Satoru.”

Gojo wiped sweat from his jaw. “Why should I be?”

“Because if the clans start noticing how you look at her, they’re going to act on it. You’re not just Gojo, you’re the Six Eyes Alpha. That makes her a target.”

Gojo’s expression shifted,still, sharp, deadly quiet.

“She’s already a target,” he said. “I’m just making sure everyone knows she’s protected.”

Suguru stared at him for a moment longer. Then he sighed.

“I’m not telling you to stop. I’m telling you to be careful.”

He walked away, his words still hanging in the air.

That night, Gojo didn’t sleep.

He sat outside your dorm window,hidden, silent,listening to your breathing just to make sure you were safe.

His hands trembled, just a little.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend this was only protection.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 18

It started with a letter.

You knew what it was the second you saw the envelope,hand-delivered, pressed with your clan’s seal. Thick, ceremonial, and cold.

Suguru’s eyes skimmed it over your shoulder as you sat in the common room. “You’re not opening that here, are you?”

You hesitated. “I already know what it says.”

They wanted to arrange a match.

A high-ranking Alpha from a politically advantageous family. One with “stability, long-term potential, and no history of excessive aggression.” Their words, not yours.

Your clan didn’t say Gojo Satoru’s name, but you could feel him in every line of that letter. The pressure to bond. The underlying threat of not doing so. You were an Omega of age. Delaying your mating was drawing attention.

It wasn’t a request.

You didn’t tell Gojo right away.

But he knew something was wrong.

You were quieter. Distracted. Distant.

He cornered you after sparring, chest heaving from the workout, a line of sweat curling down the side of his neck. He pulled off his blindfold,blue eyes sharp and worried.

“What’s going on?”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

You tried to brush past him. He moved. Blocking your way with barely a shift of his body, not touching you, but too close to ignore.

“Satoru—”

“Tell me.”

So you did.

His expression didn’t change at first. Then, very slowly, something froze in his jaw. A muscle ticked. His hands clenched at his sides like he was trying very hard not to break something.

“What’s his name?” he asked, too calm.

You didn’t answer.

His voice dropped. “They’re trying to pull you out of Jujutsu Tech.”

You swallowed. “They think it’s safer.”

“No,” he said flatly. “They think you’re vulnerable. And they think I won’t do anything about it.”

You tried to reach for his arm. “You can’t—”

He stepped back.

Not from you. From himself.

“I can’t protect you from them,” he said, voice hoarse. “Not unless you let me.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Gojo looked at you,really looked. And for once, he didn’t joke. Didn’t deflect. Just stared like you were the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

“It means I want you,” he said. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Silence.

“I thought I could wait,” he went on. “I thought if I kept quiet, if I gave you space, maybe you’d choose me on your own.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“But I’m not going to watch them take you away and pretend it doesn’t kill me.”

You stared at him. And then—

“You waited too long.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. Soft. True.

Gojo’s breath caught.

But then you added, quieter:

“Do something about it.”

His restraint shattered.

Gojo stepped forward and kissed you like he’d been dying to do it for years,because he had. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t sweet. It was messy, desperate, a dam breaking with your fingers tangled in his jacket and his hands gripping your hips like the only way he could hold himself together was by holding onto you.

He didn’t ask for permission.

You’d already given it.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

The meeting was called under the pretense of “concern.” A gathering of clan representatives, a few staff from Jujutsu Tech, and of course your suitor’s family.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Omegas were rarely permitted to speak on their own behalf in these negotiations.

But you came anyway.

And Gojo was already seated at the head of the table when you arrived.

Not an empty seat. The seat.

His blindfold was gone. His uniform collar open. His posture relaxed in the way only the most dangerous people can afford to be. Casual, confident, and clearly amused.

“Didn’t realize we were having a party,” he said lazily, gaze sweeping over the gathered elders like they were ants on his shoe. “All this effort just to talk about my Omega?”

Your heart stopped.

So did the room.

A clan elder cleared their throat. “She is not—”

“She is,” Gojo interrupted, voice silk-wrapped steel. “She just hasn’t said it officially yet. But I’m sure you’d all agree it’d be wildly inappropriate to suggest an engagement when she’s already spoken for.”

The silence crackled.

The representative from your clan’s inner circle leaned forward, fingers laced. “With respect, Gojo-sama, no such bond has been confirmed. And while your attachment is clear, this matter concerns lineage, compatibility, and the safety of the Omega in question.”

“Safety?” Gojo echoed, smile thin. “I’m the strongest sorcerer alive. Tell me, which one of you thinks you can offer her better protection than me?”

No one answered.

The suitor’s father spoke next. “Your emotions are understandable, but our son has been vetted. He’s mature, politically sound, and has a reputation for stability—”

“And I,” Gojo cut in, “can vaporize a domain in under three seconds.”

He leaned forward then, elbows on the table, voice dropping into something colder.

“So here’s how this is going to go: you’re going to drop the proposal. You’re going to keep your politics away from her. And you’re going to do it quietly, so no one gets embarrassed. Or hurt. Or—worst of all—made an example of.”

A long pause.

“Is that a threat?” someone asked tightly.

Gojo smiled.

“It’s a promise.”

When the meeting adjourned, Gojo caught up to you in the corridor, like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just threatened half the room without blinking.

“You’re insane,” you told him, heart racing.

“Insanely devoted, yeah,” he grinned. “Did you see their faces?”

“You basically declared war on my entire clan—”

“They started it,” he said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “They came for what’s mine.”

You didn’t move.

“Am I?” you asked softly.

Gojo’s smile softened, all that sharpness folding inward, just for you.

“You’ve always been,” he said. “Even when you didn’t know it.”

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 21

Living with Gojo Satoru was like sharing an apartment with a hurricane that made coffee in your favorite mug and left his socks on the ceiling.

The top floor of Jujutsu Tech’s private housing had been “technically unauthorized” when he moved you in, but no one was stupid enough to stop him. Suguru called it your castle, which wasn’t wrong. It was all open space, floor-to-ceiling windows, and way too many pillows.

You’d been dating,courting, by clan terms,for three years.

No bond yet. No mark.

Gojo waited. Even though you could feel it,how he watched you. How he barely held back when you kissed. How his cursed energy coiled around you when you wore his clothes or nuzzled your face into his scent gland in your sleep.

“I’m fine waiting,” he’d said once, hand tangled in your hair, voice soft against your throat. “As long as it’s me you’re waiting for.”

Suguru visited one night during golden hour. He brought food and stayed long after the takeout was cold, curled into a corner of your couch with his arms tucked under his sleeves.

Gojo practically draped himself over you, cheek resting on your shoulder, scent lazy and content. His fingers played absentmindedly with the hem of your shorts.

“Ugh,” Suguru said, grinning. “You’re disgusting.”

You hummed. “He’s just clingy.”

“She likes it,” Gojo mumbled into your neck.

“I tolerate it,” you corrected.

He nuzzled you, pleased.

Suguru shook his head. “You know, I was worried at first. Thought he’d suffocate you.”

You smirked. “He still might.”

Gojo just sighed dramatically. “Let me be in love in peace.”

Suguru’s smile dimmed a little,nostalgic. Quiet.

“She’s good for you.”

Gojo didn’t answer, but his fingers tightened on your thigh, just a little.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

It happened on a rainy night.

No mission. No special event. Just you and him, alone in your shared bedroom, warm from the shower, tangled in sheets and scent and skin.

He kissed you like he always did,slow, sweet, tasting every noise you made. But when you arched into him, scent thick with heat and need, Gojo paused.

“Tell me,” he said, voice hoarse. “Tell me you want it.”

You reached up, cupping his face, fingers trembling.

“I want you to claim me.”

Blue eyes burned.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve been sure since I was sixteen.”

His control cracked.

The kiss that followed was rougher, deeper,borderline desperate. His hands mapped your body like memorization wasn’t enough anymore. Your scent bloomed under his touch, sticky-sweet and wet with submission, but your eyes never left his.

You weren’t being taken.

You were giving yourself.

Gojo groaned, rut-heavy and shaking, and when he finally sank his canines into the spot just beneath your scent gland, the shock of the bond hit like a curse.

You cried out, hips jerking, body going molten and boneless under him. His cursed energy snapped, flooding through you, marking you.

Not just skin-deep.

Soul-deep.

He licked over the mark, reverent, voice rasping against your neck: “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Your hands fisted in his hair.

“Yours,” you whispered. “Always.”

Afterward, he held you like he’d fall apart without you,arms around your waist, nose buried in your bond mark, still murmuring your name like a prayer.

When you drifted off, Gojo didn’t sleep.

He just watched you breathe.

His. Finally. Irrevocably.

And if the world tried to take you again?

Let it try.

⟡─────⟡─────⟡

Age 25

Years had passed since the world had first witnessed Gojo Satoru’s declaration of ownership over you. Since the day he'd practically claimed you, raw and unrestrained.

Since then, you and Gojo had built your lives,not just as partners, but as equals. You were stronger. He was more grounded. And the bond, always there, had deepened beyond what anyone outside the two of you could even fathom.

Your home was exactly as it had been before: full of noise, laughter, and chaos, just now with a few extra people. Jujutsu Tech still felt like the heart of the world, but with each passing year, you both had carved out more space for yourselves. Gojo was a legend, but he was also yours. And you were more than his Omega,you were his heart. His equal.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Gojo fussed with the coffee machine like he hadn’t made the same damn cup a thousand times before.

“Stop acting like you don’t know how to do it,” you teased, smiling fondly. He always made a production out of everything, even the simplest of things.

Gojo’s back was turned, but you saw him grin.

“I know how to make it. I just enjoy the effect,” he said, voice low, filled with that familiar smugness.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“No, I’m full of you,” he said, turning to you, his blue eyes locking onto yours, soft but possessive. “Always will be.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“I’m new,” he said, walking closer, his body heat flooding your senses, that mix of Satoru and Gojo only you knew intimately.

His hand cupped your cheek gently, like he was afraid of breaking you. And you knew that even now, after all this time, despite the raw, unfiltered power he held, he was still careful with you. Always.

He kissed you, slow, deep like you were still the only person in the world.

“I’m not the only one who’s changed,” he murmured, pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re more than I ever could’ve imagined, beloved.”

You smiled softly, almost shyly, remembering the long path from the moment he first made that choice, back when he was younger, less certain.

Later that afternoon, Suguru came over, as he always did. His usual routine was to catch up with Gojo, drink coffee, and discuss the growing chaos of their world, but today, something was off. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but Suguru seemed a little… distracted.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, watching him fiddle with his mug.

He looked up at you, smiled a little, but his eyes were far away. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve known you both a long time,” he said, glancing at Gojo, who had his back turned, lost in his own thoughts. “And I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you two would finally settle into this… Whatever this is.”

Gojo grinned from the other side of the room. “It’s called ‘happily ever after,’ Suguru.”

Suguru snorted, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right, right. But still… I never expected to see you both at peace.”

You stepped forward, cocking your head. “What’s going on, Suguru?”

He sighed, meeting your gaze. “I’ve just been wondering for a while now,what’s next for you two? I mean, you’ve built your lives together. But is that… enough? Or is there something more? Something bigger?”

You stared at him for a moment, before your eyes moved to Gojo, who had finally turned around and was watching you, expression soft and almost… expectant.

You glanced back at Suguru, confused. “What are you getting at?”

Suguru leaned forward. “Well, I’ve been hearing some rumors lately. About you two. And I… I think I know what the next step is.”

You stared at him.

He gave you a slow smile,whispering. “I think it’s time you tell him.”

Later that evening, Gojo had his arm around you, the two of you lounging on the couch as you watched some random movie. His hand traced lazy patterns on your arm, and you could feel the bond pulsing between you.

He wasn’t paying attention to the film, not really,his mind was always on you, and he was letting the quiet between you speak louder than anything else.

But tonight was different.

You turned to face him, drawing his attention, your heart beating a little faster as you reached for his hand.

“Satoru,” you whispered, your voice soft and slightly nervous. “I… I have something to tell you.”

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with that same intensity. “What is it?”

Your hand trembled slightly as you took his, squeezing gently. You knew, deep down, that this would be another step, the next chapter. The one that solidified everything.

“I’m… I’m pregnant.”

He froze for a beat, like the world itself had just shifted. Then,slowly, ever so carefully,he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

A smile broke out across his face, and it was like a weight lifted from his shoulders. His eyes, those impossibly blue eyes, softened.

“You’re…” he started, the words stumbling out, but his smile grew. “You’re really doing this to me? You’re going to make me a dad?”

You laughed, a soft, breathless sound. "You’re going to be an amazing father, Satoru."

Gojo leaned forward, his lips brushing yours with a gentleness that matched the enormity of the moment.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, the bond between you thrumming with warmth.

“Our baby,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Our family.”

And just like that, everything felt real. The years, the bond, the madness and the love. It was all leading to this. Your future. Together.

You rested your hand on your stomach, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips.

His hand covered yours, pressing it to his chest, over his heart.

And you both knew.

This—this was the beginning of something even greater than you could’ve imagined.

[rumisgf]

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

© rumisgf

[imaginedisish]

Need 2 (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: So...I'm back already lol. This sort of just came to me last night. I was rewatching the first and second X-Men movies and got a little inspired. This is also inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove. Didn't think I'd be posting another fic already, but here we are. Hopefully y'all enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one another through your nightmares.

Warnings: 18+! Smut! Minors DNI! PWP. Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Fingering, AFAB!reader, fem!reader, Reader has some hair at the nape of her neck that can be played with (length, color and texture are not described!), mutant!reader, cursing, canon typical violence, angst, praise kink, feelings, nightmares, friends to lovers, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's all?

Word Count: 3,906

Some nights, it was easier not to sleep. It was easier to go down into the kitchen, the living room, or one of the many libraries in the mansion and stay awake. It was easier than forcing yourself to go to bed, just to wake up screaming thirty minutes later. 

So tonight, like far too many nights, you’ve found yourself in your favorite corner in your favorite library in the mansion. You’re reading Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Sartre when a familiar figure enters the room. 

“What’re you doing awake?” Logan’s voice is gruff, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his beater tight against his chest. “You should be asleep.”

“Can’t sleep,” You answer, placing a bookmark between the pages and shutting the book. You look up at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room. 2:00 AM. “You should be sleeping too.” You smirk patting the free space next to you on the loveseat. 

He shakes his head. “Too stuffy in here.”

You roll your eyes, placing the book down on the couch. “Then what’s your plan, big guy?”

He holds up his beer and points down the hall. “Gonna sit in front of the T.V. You can too,” he pauses tentatively, “if you want.”

“S-sure,” you stutter. Why are you stuttering? You spend time with Logan constantly. This isn’t new. This is normal. You feel your heart rate pick up. This is ridiculous. This is a totally regular night. 

You stand and follow him down the hall and into another room, one with a lit fireplace and a television. You both sit down, leaving a generous amount of room between the two of you. Logan reaches for the remote and turns the T.V. on. He surfs through the channels before stopping on a movie you instantly recognize. 

“Casablanca?” You ask, turning towards him, letting yourself move just a bit closer as you do so. You feel like he’s moved closer in too. 

He nods, his eyes glued to the screen. “It’s a classic.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Never pinned you for the love story type.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says back as he turns towards you again. There’s a faint smile on his face. You swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before he turns to face the T.V. again. 

A few minutes go by like this, the two of you just inches away from one another. You can’t concentrate on the movie with him this close. It’s impossible. 

Despite the heat of the fire, you start to feel a chill. Goose bumps rise on your arms, and you pull your legs into your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees. 

Logan immediately notices, shifting to grab the throw blanket from behind him. “Cold?” He asks, taking the opportunity to move closer towards you as he tosses the blanket over the two of you. 

“Y-yeah, thanks,” you answer. But you’re still cold. You bring the blanket up so that it rests just under your chin. For such an old mansion, the A/C must work great. No wonder the fire was already lit when you and Logan got in here. 

Logan notices again. He rests his arm against the back of the couch. “You could…” He trails off, nodding his head to offer the space right next to him, in his arms. “Come over here?” You nod back, scooching closer until your side presses into his. 

He’s an absolute furnace. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing up and down your arm gently. He’s so warm. You instinctively curl into him, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in months, you feel comfortable enough—safe enough—to fall asleep. 

“Better?” He asks, his lips brushing against your forehead. 

You nod against his chest. “So much better.” You whisper. You can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You let them fall shut. Let yourself go. Give in. Finally. 

“Lo?” You quietly call out. You’re so close to sleep that you don’t even realize you’re speaking. 

You can feel his smile on the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You feel so nice.” You’re mumbling, half asleep. It’s nonsense, but it’s true. “So safe.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You do too. Now get some sleep.”

You shake your head softly. “Only if you sleep, too.” 

You think you feel another kiss. One of his hands reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “I will, I promise.”

You drift off to sleep, waking up just once about an hour and a half later to see Logan still on the couch beside you. He’s asleep, still holding you to his chest. You don’t wake him. You let yourself fall asleep again. 

You wake up a few hours later, this time in your own bed, the sun shining through your curtains. You notice a note next to your pillow. 

Glad you got some sleep. -Logan

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can hear him, his grunts, his screams. You jump out of bed and sprint down the hall. You don’t need a flashlight to find his room. You know the way by heart. You don’t even bother knocking. You burst in and shut the door behind you. 

You run over to the side of his bed and start to softly shake him. “It’s just a dream, Lo,” you call out to him. He doesn’t wake up. He’s still grunting, still tossing and turning. You feel helpless. “Logan, it’s okay.” You speak a bit louder this time, putting more of your weight on his shoulders as you shake him. Nothing. No change. 

“Logan, please wake up.” Louder again. And still nothing. “Fuck it.”

You climb onto the bed, maneuvering so that you can get on top of him. You’re straddling him now, which probably isn’t the world’s greatest idea. You shake his shoulders harder as he winces, his head thrashing against the mattress, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Come on, Lo, wake up.”

And then, he’s sitting up, claws out, the tips just nudging the base of your throat. “It’s me!” You shout. “It’s just me!” You can hear the shing of his claws retracting. You look down to see that the collar of your shirt is sliced.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” He’s wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, scanning your body frantically for any injury. He’s moving up and down your skin like a wildfire, checking every possible surface that he could have pierced or sliced. 

You try to stop him, but he refuses to listen. “You didn’t get me, Logan. I’m okay, really.” 

He pushes you down onto the mattress, carefully turning you over onto your stomach before you can protest. “I’m just checking your back, okay?”

“You couldn’t have touched my back. That’s physically impossible.” You try to turn back over, but he keeps you down, one hand pinned between your shoulder blades as the other pulls up your shirt to search your skin. You suddenly remember you aren’t wearing a bra. You’re not wearing any shorts, either. Just your oversized pajama shirt and panties.

His fingers gently trace your skin before reaching up to pull the shirt back down. He finally lets you turn over. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees, just a few inches away from Logan. It’s your turn to reach out to him now. You bring up a tentative hand to his shoulder; he trembles under your touch but doesn’t push you away. You move a bit closer, your knee slotting into the space between his thighs. Your hand slides up his shoulder to his neck, and he finally leans into your palm. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers again. He moves closer, shifting his thighs further into your own. “I never, ever want to hurt you.” He brings his arms back around you, hesitantly pulling you into his chest. You let him, let him hold you. You know he needs to—needs to feel someone else. You wrap your arms around his body too. 

“I know, Lo. It’s okay. No more apologizing.” You hold him tighter. “Are you okay?”

He hums as his face burrows into the crook of your neck. “Just a nightmare.” A part of you is surprised he’s letting you hold him and holding you back. “I fucked up your shirt.”

You let your head rest against his shoulder. “I know.” 

“Almost fucking killed you.” He’s trembling again like he wants to push you away. 

You hold him tighter. “You didn’t though,” You mumble against his bare skin. “Please don’t run away. Let me hold you, please.” 

He relaxes again, pulling you in tighter in response. “Why do you care about me?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Why do you care about me?” You ask back. 

He scoffs. “Because I…” He trails off. You can tell he’s not giving you the whole truth. “I just do. You’re you. That’s all there is to it.”

“Exactly. And you’re you.” You can feel his lips ghost against your neck—not quite a kiss, but not quite nothing either. “So, I care about you too.”

“I don’t deserve it, the way you care about me.” His lips don’t move from that half-kiss position along your neck as he speaks. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Your voice is suddenly stern, assertive. “You deserve so much, Logan. So much.” Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss against his bare shoulder. And then another. And another. 

“You should go back to bed.” His voice is low and hoarse. He finally presses a true kiss into your neck, too. 

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Let me stay with you.”

“But what if I—” 

You cut him off. “Please.”

He doesn’t protest this time. He just guides you down to the pillows, keeping one arm tightly around your waist as the other brings the covers up and over the two of you. 

You stay intertwined, your legs tangled up with his, your chests pressed tightly together. You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, gently raking your nails through his hair. His lips find your neck again, kissing that spot just underneath your ear. It’s chaste, but there’s something else there. You know there is. 

You can feel him relaxing, drifting off into sleep, and so you let yourself do the same. There’s nowhere you feel safer than with Logan. 

When you wake up, you’re still in Logan’s bed, but his side is empty. Again, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 

Thank you. Hope this makes up for what I did. -Logan.

Underneath the note is his favorite Rolling Stones shirt.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re somewhere dark, sitting on a cold metal chair, your hands shackled in more cold metal. The air tastes like metal, too. And then it dawns on you: Magneto. 

His figure appears in front of you, his hand extended out towards something...perhaps someone. Towards no one? No. There he is, floating in front of you. Logan. “NO!” You yell. You can feel your throat burn as you shout.

“Let him go!” You scream. But Magneto doesn’t budge. He holds Logan in the air, bending the metal in his body. He stretches Logan’s claws out. You remember when Logan told you it hurts every time he unleashes them. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in now.  

“Logan!” You cry out. Your abilities don’t seem to work, no matter how hard you try. You’re powerless, helpless, useless. You echo his name repeatedly to no avail. 

You’re forced to sit and watch as his claws bend backward. Tears run down your face as Logan screams in agony. There’s nothing you can do. You thrash in place. 

“Let him fucking go!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Logan! I’m so sorry. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” A familiar name calls for you in the distance, but you ignore it. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. “So fucking sorry.”

The voice shouts your name again. And again. Tears stain your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up for me sweetheart.” You know that voice. “I’m right here, just wake up.” 

Your eyes finally flutter open. There he is, in front of you, his solid frame heavy on top of you. “Lo?” You push yourself up to meet him. 

“It’s me, darlin’, It’s me.”

You throw your arms around him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Fuck,” you mumble against him. 

He wraps his arms tightly around your body, carefully bringing you back down to the bed. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m here.”

“How’d you know I was…” You trail off, swallowing harshly, not wanting to think about what you just dreamed of. 

“You called my name. I came the second I heard you.” His voice is soft but shaky. It dawns on you that you scared him. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice a trembling mess. 

He presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, and then that usual spot in the crook of your neck. He somehow manages to pull you tighter into his chest. “Don’t be sorry darlin’, please. Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“But I woke you,” you protest. “I scared you.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” His breath tickles the skin of your neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He’s kissing you more fervently than normal. There’s something panicked about his movements, like he’s still worried that you might not be fine. 

You take a deep breath. “Lo?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can you stay with me?” You feel like a child, but you don’t care. You want to feel him. You need to be close to him. You can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever. 

His legs tangle with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a whisper now. 

You nod, pushing yourself further into him. “Need to feel you,” you say, running your hands along his back, his chest, his waist. You need him, every inch, every curve. All of him. 

“Darlin’,” he mutters. “What do you mean?”

You break away from him for just a second. His brows are furrowed. “Need you, Lo.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows. “You have me.”

“No Logan I-I—” You stutter. “I want you. Need you. I need you closer. Please.” 

His eyes search yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. His fingers climb higher, stopping just below your chest, where the hem of your bra would be. 

You inhale deeply and press harder into him. “Please, Lo. Please.”

“Sweetheart, is this really what you want?” You can feel his breath against your lips. He’s so close, but not close enough. “That dream…” He pauses. “If this is only because of the dream…”

You shut your eyes, remembering what you saw. You feel a tear slide down your still-wet cheek. You breathe deeply. “Wanted you before the dream,” you murmur nervously. 

“Darlin’, you gotta be careful saying things like that.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. Your noses touch gently. He slots his legs higher between yours and pulls you closer. 

“Why?” You ask.

“Because I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.” His hands become less hesitant, his fingers tracing the underside of your chest, slowly charting a course to your nipples. 

He opens his eyes, searching your face for consent, and you immediately nod. “I’m yours. Been yours the whole time.”

That’s all the permission he needs to bring his lips to yours, to hungrily swallow everything you’re willing to give him. His fingers gently pinch your nipples before drawing lazy circles around them. Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue slips across your lower lip. You open up and let him inside, savoring the taste of him. 

You’re still side by side, tangled up with one another, but it’s not close enough. You need more. 

“Logan,” you call, leaving one hand on his bare back as you let the other trail down his chest, to the hem of his sweats. But before you can get any further, he grabs your hand, freezing you in place. 

He shakes his head against yours. “Wanna take care of you.”

“But I wanna take care of you, too,” you whine. 

He just smiles. “You always do, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.” He drops your hand, and one of his own trails down your body, down to the ridden-up hem of your shirt—his shirt, actually—the one he left on the pillow. “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He pulls it up, revealing your stomach and tits. One of his hands continues to massage your breasts, playing with your nipples, while the other travels back down to the hem of your panties. His fingers slip inside, sliding down through your folds and back up to your clit. You shudder under his touch. 

He starts to draw slow, lazy circles there. You can’t help but grind into his hand, needy for more. You whisper his name as his touch becomes harder, faster. 

“So fucking wet for me. Soaking already.” The whimper rising in your throat at his words is swallowed by another deep, desperate kiss. 

You hang onto him, your arms around his back as he pulls you closer to the edge. He can tell you need the contact, the closeness, and so he pulls away from your tits, his now-free hand slipping underneath you and snaking around your waist, holding you closer than before. Your chest is flush with his as his fingers rub harder at your clit. 

You can feel yourself coming undone, your hips rocking against him uncontrollably. “I’m so close,” you pant. 

“I know pretty girl,” he murmurs. He breaks away from your face, finding that spot in the crook of your neck that he loves so much. You throw your head back as his lips find purchase in the same area as always. “Doing so good for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

His whispers in your ear, his little bites and kisses against that spot on your neck, his fingers on your clit, it’s all too much. “Lo,” you whine, shutting your eyes and pressing your face into his shoulder. 

“That’s it, darlin’, let go.” 

That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You grind down onto his fingers, your hips still canting back and forth as you come undone. You can feel Logan smile against your neck as he slows down his pace. After a moment or two, his hand slips out of your panties and comes up to rest on your hip. 

You bring your forehead back to his. “You alright, sweetheart?” His low, husky whisper fills the air. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “Still want you, Lo.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, his thumb brushing gently across your hip. 

You nod. “Need you closer.”

“Fuck,” he groans. His thumb hooks under the hem of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. You slip them off the rest of the way as Logan turns you on your back. You watch him above you, thumbs hooked inside his sweats. He pulls them down quickly, his cock springing up to his stomach in the process. Your eyes widen as you take in just how big he is. 

He pushes his sweats down the rest of the way, and he slots himself in between your legs. You can feel the length of him on the inside of your thigh. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl,” he grunts. His forearm rests next to your head, caging you in and keeping him steady, while his other hand guides his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance. 

“Logan,” you whine, your hands reaching up to his neck, pulling his face down to meet you. “I’m yours.” 

You gasp as he fills you up, his hand immediately reaching between your bodies to find your still-sensitive clit. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to his length, rocking into you gently. His thumb flicks your clit before drawing those same lazy circles from before. You’re already close, still drunk off the first orgasm he pulled from you. 

“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Doing so good for me.” You can feel him building speed, pumping in and out of you. He feels so good, rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. He’s so close, so real, so safe.

“Needed you so bad,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in. 

You can feel him throb inside you at your words. “Needed you too.” The sound of his voice pushes you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering around his cock. His circles on your clit are no longer gentle or slow. He thrusts faster, rutting into you hit after hit. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, shaking underneath him. “I-I’m so clo…” But you can’t finish your sentence. Your eyes flutter open and shut. 

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Never gonna let you go.”

You take in a sharp breath. “’M’yours,” is all you can manage to say. 

“Mine,” he breathes, his hips rocking into you again and again. “Can feel you squeezing me, beautiful.”

“S-so close,” you choke in between thrusts. His fingers work harder on your clit, his lips moving against yours like they belong there, always. 

“Then let go, darlin’,” he says against your lips. He pushes deeper into you than before, your walls clamping down onto him. You feel heat rise to your chest as you shatter around him. You echo his name over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close behind, his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier with each pump. 

“W-where do you want—”

“Inside.”

“F-fuck,” he’s a choking, moaning mess as he comes undone inside you. You can feel him paint your walls, filling you up. He pumps in and out of you a few more times before he starts to slip out. 

“W-wait,” you stutter, grabbing him, holding him in place. 

He freezes. “You okay?” Concern is painted across his face, his brows furrowed, trying to discern what’s wrong. 

“J-just don’t want you to go,” you murmur. 

He smiles as he slides out of you. He pulls you tightly into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You shut your eyes as his hands settle on your lower back. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“I promise,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Relax. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

You can’t fight your exhaustion anymore, so you do as he says. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, to his kisses on your forehead, to the tracing of letters and shapes along your back. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, as pale light trickles through the curtains of your room, you see there’s no letter. No empty space next to you in the bed. 

There’s just Logan, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Your eyes flutter open. His are still closed. But he can tell you’re awake. 

“’M’not going anywhere,” he mumbles, still half asleep. “Too early. Go back to bed.”

He’s right. So, you do. 

tags: @seamlessepiphany

[cherrxboy]

I had this idea and I HAD to write it because I know my bitchass would NOT write it any other time (it's 5 in the morning and I haven't slept)

CW: explicit smut, I think - GN!reader - Mean!Satoru - uhhh rough seggs - Toru being an asshole - eating out/bj/whatever (reader receiving) - overstimulation I believe - a bit (probably a lot) of degrading/humiliation and stuff... he calls you a slut like two times - pet names used: baby, sweets, love - he refers to himself as "daddy" once but there's nothing else about that - mentions of death but like he's just joking - aftercare. (Not proofread) tell me if I missed anything!

English is my second language and I'm sleep deprived auauughh this is probably shit but I hope you enjoy hehe cause I personally love mean!Satoru he makes me go tehehehhehwojspsjpsj. Sorry if there are any typos ;((

♡

We've all read the fics, we've all seen the man, we've watched the show and I can't get this image outta my head, this little broken tape going off in my brain that Satoru is one of the biggest meanies when y'all are going at it. Doesn't matter what you are, what's in your pants, if you're giving or taking– he's mean.

Satoru is the type of guy that would keep you spread for him while he goes down on you, not caring if your thighs start to cramp or your legs feel sore. At some point it's not even about your pleasure anymore. He just wants to see how far he can push you, what new faces you can make, what little noises he can take out of you and Oh his favorite: how many times can he make you cum with just his mouth in a certain time limit.

He starts going and counts, each and every one of your orgasms, while also keeping track of the time. He's the strongest, he's definitely broken some records and one thing he really loves is breaking his own records. How many times can he make you cum in 15 minutes? How about 10? How about 2?!

"C'mon, love..."

"just one more, yeah? Oh I know, I know it's hurting but I'm almost breaking my last record, isn't that amazing??"

"Puh-leaseee? I'm making you feel good too, aren't I? Don't deny it, babe. I'm pretty sure everyone heard us with how loud you were being."

"No no no, I'm not saying it's baaad. Actually, makes me curious about how many noise complaints we can get in a week–"

Satoru is the type of guy to literally make fun of you while he's rearranging your guts. The type of guy that laughs in your face when you're crying all prettily, telling him that 'oh you can't take it' or how 'it's too big!' He's folding you in half at this point, not even letting you look away, hide your face in the pillows or anything as one of his hands keeps you still for him and the other holds onto your face, cupping you cheeks and squishing them together to make your face all pouty and adorable; you're just drooling and your eyes keep rolling back but Oh you better pay attention to him otherwise he's slowing down until you're begging for him to go faster and harder.

His thrusts suddenly become so weak and lazy and it's just not enough but he doesn't care, doesn't care that it practically hurts him too, he just wants to see you try and beg him to move with that fucked out lil brain of yours.

"Ah- Ah- Ah~! Harder, Toru! Puh-leaseee, faster, daddy!" As he giggles and mimics your voice (very horribly).

"Oh it's too big? But you're taking it so well, love, look at you! Shiiit~ I'm all the way in your tummy, see? Yeahhh well maybe you can't with all those tears but I definitely can."

"Hey, eyes on me, sweets– thereee we go~ Lemme see your pretty face, yeah?"

"What was that? Oh you're gonna cum? Again? That's a bit rude, baby, don't you think? You're being really greedy tonight. But it's okay, you can cum~ I'm feeling generous tonigt."

Satoru is the type of guy to pull on your hair when he's fucking you from behind, just to bring you closer to himself and make your back arch almost uncomfortably, just to whisper dirty ass shits in your ears that he knows would get you off.

He's got you on all fours and his free hand is on your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh as he pounds into you, sometimes giving it a little smack, groaning and moaning deeply against your neck and sometimes whimpering if you give a roll of your own hips as well. He's not shy and doesn't see why some guys hold back their moans... you seem to like it a lot, so he definitely won't stay quiet.

"Fuuuck baby~ you're so tight and so fucking warm– mmm! I'm gonna break you... uh-huh, you're gonna stay here in bed for at least a week, sweets. And I'm gonna take good care of you, yeah? You'd like that, wouldn't you? Staying here, full of my cum as we just cuddle and hide away from the world... I'll give you load after load, baby, as many as you want~"

"Taking my cock so fucking well, like a good little slut– no no no, don't you dare run away, sweets~ fuckkk... I can feel you squeezin' me, baby. You like when I call you that? Like when I treat you like the lil slut you are?"

"Oh fuck– please, give it to me sweets, please! Wanna feel you, baby, wanna feel you tightening up– shiiit.. just like that! I'm gonna fill you up so good~ just a little more, 'k? You can take it... yeah you can, good job~"

Satoru is the type of guy that's mean during sex but Oh so sweet afterwards. Man does not care how many rounds you've all been through or how tired he is... he's giving you a nice warm bath and a massage because he just can't have his sweet partner be in pain, can he?

He talks all that shit about making you unable to walk but god he thinks he'd die if he had to stay in bed with you for a whole day! He loves you, don't get me wrong. He loves spending time with you and just being with you merely in your presence but he's an active person to say the least and he can't just sit still for more than 10 minutes!

So you best believe he's giving you the best aftercare as soon as you guys are done. A glass of water to sooth your throat, soft towels to clean you up with, a nice warm bath along with a massage to make sure you won't be sore by the next few hours and finally he takes you to bed and cuddles you, kissing you all over your face and mumbling little "I love you"s again and again and again.

"You were so good for me today... such an angel. God, I'm so lucky to have you."

"I love you, you know that, right? I love you so much. You're the best thing that happened to me. I love you... did I mention that I love you??"

"If you ever leave me I'm gonna cry myself to death and then haunt you in your dreams and possibly fuck you there if you let me. Sorry, was that too descriptive? I just love you so much, sweets. You can't blame a guy for loving his amazing wonderful perfect sexy partner, can you?"

♡

First post and it's a thirst daaaamn. I'm not making a good first impression y'all I'm sorry 😞☝️

[wordsmeetwbb]

Whatever Azzi Wants, Azzi Gets

Word count: 3.3k

Content: smut (P receiving, tiniest hint of degradation)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: This is my second attempt at writing this. The first was so terrible I deleted the entire 2.5k words instead of editing. I'm a lot happier with this so I hope y'all like it! Full disclosure, this was not edited well, so let me know if there's mistakes or anything. Enjoy the smut!

________

Azzi wasn’t used to Paige letting her be in charge in the bedroom. Not that she was necessarily being cooperative in their current position, but she had agreed to let Azzi top tonight. Not only that, but Azzi had managed to convince Paige to let her use the strap. Paige’s strap, that she had never in a million years thought Azzi would ever wear. For now, it sat untouched on Paige’s dresser.

There had been a couple of times in Paige and Azzi’s relationship in which Azzi had brought up switching their roles around a little bit. She was perfectly satisfied with their sex life, but Paige was so bossy in everyday life, and then she got to be bossy in the bedroom too. It was giving her a bigger ego than was good for Azzi’s health. Luckily for Azzi, the solution to Paige’s overconfidence in her strap game lay in Azzi being a better three-point shooter than Paige.

The two girls had made a bet about who could make more threes in two and a half minutes. The winner got whatever they wanted. Paige made an impressive 49 shots in the allotted time. Much to Azzi’s amusement, her girlfriend had started bragging about her win before Azzi even had her turn. Then, Paige had to stand and watch in shame as Azzi made 50 shots. The disappointment on her face was almost reward enough for Azzi, but she was determined to tear Paige’s ego down even more.

That’s how they had ended up in their current situation: Paige completely naked, pressed into her mattress, with Azzi trailing kisses down her stomach. This wasn’t an unfamiliar position for either of them. As much as Paige enjoyed eating her girlfriend out, Azzi equally enjoyed returning the favor. It was the knowledge of what was coming next that made the whole thing so exhilarating. Azzi’s goal for the moment was to make Paige forget about all of it.

Azzi kept leaving kisses across Paige’s skin, avoiding the wetness in between her thighs. She’d get there later. For now, she was having too much fun teasing. Paige never let her take this much time before just pulling her up to where she really needed her.

Azzi slid further down the bed, trailing more kisses up Paige’s leg from her ankle. She kissed her calves, the scar on her knee, the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. Paige was breathing hard, wiggling on the bed in an attempt to get Azzi’s mouth on her cunt.

”Az, no more teasing. You had fun, now just touch me, come on-“ Paige insisted. Azzi rubbed one hand up and down Paige’s leg soothingly. The other she brushed over Paige’s stomach and up to her tits, taking one in her palm and squeezing. Paige’s head flew back into the pillow and Azzi had to stifle a laugh. Instead, she brushed her thumb over the nipple.

”Okay, okay, enough. If you’re gonna eat me out, just fucking do it. You’ve made whatever point you’re trying to make, baby.” Azzi frowned.

”We talked about this. You’re not in charge today, I am,” she told her girlfriend. Paige groaned and sat up.

”I thought you just wanted to fuck me with the strap. I didn’t think you were serious about wanting to be dominant or whatever.” Azzi slapped the inside of Paige’s thigh lightly in warning.

”Hey, I won the bet. I made more shots than you, so we’re doing this my way tonight. You get to be in charge all the time. Just relax for once. Your turn to be the pillow princess,” Azzi joked. Paige sighed.

”Fine, but can you just hurry up and touch me?” Azzi pushed Paige back down onto the bed and settled her face in between Paige’s legs.

”I should just keep teasing you. That’s what you do to me when I’m bratty,” Azzi mused.

”Don’t you fucking dare-“ Azzi cut her off by licking stripe up through her folds. Paige didn’t even have time to bite back her moan. Azzi repeated the motion, dragging her tongue through Paige’s wetness.

”Better, baby?” She asked sweetly. Paige didn’t bother to reply. Instead, one of her hands came down to bury itself in Azzi’s curls, pushing her deeper between her legs. Azzi was too preoccupied to reprimand her. Her mouth was already busy, alternating between kitten licks against Paige’s clit, long strokes through her folds, and dipping her tongue inside.

Paige was quickly becoming a mess under her. Every time Azzi flicked her tongue against her clit, more of Paige’s wetness dripped down onto the bed. She was bucking her hips against Azzi’s face, forcing Azzi to grip her girlfriend’s hips to keep her still. And the sounds she was making—moans and groans, deep and throaty whenever Azzi’s tongue touched her clit.

”Just like that- yeahhh, right there, ma,” Paige groaned. Azzi sucked Paige’s clit into her mouth, letting her teeth graze just slightly, knowing it drove Paige crazy. As expected, Paige’s hand fisted in Azzi’s hair. She moaned her name and Azzi knew she was getting close. She kept her mouth focused on Paige’s clit and slid her fingers down to play with Paige’s wetness. Her hips stuttered and Azzi took that as her sign to slide two fingers into Paige’s soaked pussy.

“Fuck, yes Az, almost there,” Paige panted. Azzi kept sucking Paige’s clit while she thrust her fingers slowly in and out. Paige cried out on one particularly deep thrust so Azzi did it again, and again, and again, until Paige was clenching around her fingers and moaning loudly.

“Coming, I’m coming, fuck Azzi,” she moaned. Azzi fucked her through it. Paige was so tight around her fingers that it was a struggle to keep moving them in and out. Then Paige was pushing Azzi away, legs starting to shake from the overstimulation. Azzi knew how sensitive Paige got after she came, and she fully planned to use that to her advantage.

She pulled away from Paige for the moment, but only to get up and walk to the dresser where the purple strap sat. She could feel Paige’s eyes tracing her body. She still had leggings and a bra on, but Paige stared at her regardless of what she wore.

She slipped out of the clothes and grabbed the strap, stepping into the harness and adjusting the straps. She had never worn it before, but she had watched Paige put it on enough times that she knew how it worked. To her surprise, Paige didn’t even try to talk her out of it as Azzi crawled back on top of the blonde, pressing gentle kisses to her lips.

“You’re really okay with this?” Azzi asked. Paige nodded. “Words, baby. I know I won the bet, but I’m not gonna make you do this if you honestly don’t want to try it.”

“I know. I’m good. Maybe it’ll make you appreciate my skills more when you realize what it’s like,” Paige smirked. Azzi rolled her eyes.

“Do you ever stop being so cocky?”

“You love it,” Paige said and pulled Azzi back to her mouth, leaving sloppy kisses on her lips and across her face. Azzi let herself enjoy it for a few beats before she pulled away.

“You still wet enough?” She asked. Paige nodded, hands drifting to Azzi’s hips to help guide her between her legs.

“I’ll help you, baby, don’t worry,” Paige said. Azzi scoffed.

“You can help me by shutting up and actually accepting that you’re not in charge tonight.” Paige frowned. Azzi ignored her. She shifted into a better position, moving Paige’s legs out of the way. She inched forward until just the tip of the purple dildo was nestled between Paige’s folds. Paige let out a long breath.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, gripping Azzi’s hips and attempting to drag her closer. Instead, Azzi just dragged the tip up and down, spreading Paige’s wetness around teasingly. Paige released Azzi’s hips and let her arms flop back down onto the mattress in frustration.

“Ask me for what you want,” Azzi ordered. Paige’s eyes shot to Azzi’s.

“What?”

“Ask for what you want,” Azzi repeated, holding herself so still. She knew it was driving Paige crazy. For someone who had previously insisted she had no interest in getting fucked with a strap, she was trying awfully hard to get Azzi to slip inside of her. Azzi pulled away completely, leaving Paige empty. Paige whined.

“Seriously?” Azzi just stared at her girlfriend. Paige squeezed her eyes shut, face such a pretty shade of pink from her embarrassment. “Azzi, will you put it in?” She asked awkwardly. Azzi smiled.

“Say please.”

“Bro, I’m not saying please-” Azzi started to get up from the bed. She wasn’t actually going to leave, but she needed Paige to believe she would. It worked.

“Wait, baby, no. Please fuck me, okay? Is that what you wanted?” Azzi sighed. She’d just have to fuck the demands and controlling nature out of Paige. She settled herself back between Paige’s legs, one hand spreading her folds open. She was still soaked and her clit was now pink and puffy from the previous stimulation. Paige spread her legs a little wider in an attempt to coax Azzi into her.

“Tell me if I do something that hurts,” she said. As confident as Azzi was in her abilities to fuck Paige, this was new for both of them and she didn’t want to ruin any chance of Paige letting this happen again in the future. Paige nodded eagerly, hands returning to their places on Azzi’s hips. With that, Azzi nudged her way forward.

It was odd to see the strap sliding slowly into Paige, to see it splitting her open, to be the one causing that to happen, and to not physically feel anything from it. Azzi quickly gained an appreciation for how well Paige could fuck her without feeling her. She was too accustomed to being able to feel everything with her fingers or tongue.

“Fuck, Azzi, oh shit,” Paige mumbled. Azzi looked down at her girlfriend, whose eyes were squeezed shut. She was as deep as she could go without feeling like she would hurt Paige, so she just stayed there for a minute to let the blonde adjust. The stillness didn’t last long.

Paige’s eyes flew open the second she realized Azzi wasn’t moving and Azzi immediately knew demands were coming.

“Fucking move. I thought you wanted to fuck me, not just sit there,” she said, voice full of sass.

“Drop the attitude,” Azzi replied. She stayed still inside Paige.

“I don’t have an attitude. I’m telling you that I’m ready for you to give me more,” Paige argued. In response, Azzi pulled her hips back, dragging the strap out of Paige slowly. Then, she thrust back in, a little faster than she thought she should, but it forced a gasp out of Paige so it must have been alright.

“You’re being a brat,” she told Paige. Paige shook her head in disagreement, all while Azzi continued to thrust in and out of Paige, trying to find a rhythm.

“I’m just- fuck- helping you.”

“You’re not helping. I know what I’m doing. This feels good, right?” Azzi argued. She wanted Paige to either shut up or use her words for more productive things, like moaning and begging. She had never seen Paige anything less than dominant during sex, but she wanted to see if she could pull out a little bit (or a lot) of submission.

“Feels good, but Az, I can take more-” Azzi thrust harder than she had before. It punched a moan out of Paige.

“Like that?” Azzi asked sweetly. Her voice wasn’t as composed as she would have liked. The base of the dildo had settled in just the right place on her clit. It rubbed against her with every thrust and was making it harder to focus on what she and Paige were saying.

“Fuck, yes baby, just like that.” Azzi really wanted Paige to shut up, but she didn’t know how to make it happen. She kept thrusting, keeping her rhythm steady, and shifting the angle every once in a while in an attempt to find that spot inside Paige.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mumbled. The friction against her clit was starting to drive her crazy. Paige perked up, seeming to know exactly what had Azzi so wound up.

“You can feel it, can’t you? Against your clit?” Azzi thrust harder, speeding up. She brought one of her hands down to Paige’s clit as well, drawing little circles that did more teasing than anything. She just wanted to get Paige worked up enough that it was harder for her to speak. It took less time than she thought it would.

“Right there, so close. Don’t stop,” Paige groaned. It wasn’t begging, but it was a start. Azzi shifted slightly and Paige moaned immediately. She writhed on the bed, hips moving to meet Azzi’s thrusts. It didn’t take much longer, only a few more thrusts and circles of her fingers around Paige’s clit, and then Paige was moaning, her legs were shaking, and her cunt was visibly squeezing around the dildo. Azzi kept thrusting through Paige’s orgasm, helping her ride it out. Then, for the second time that night, Paige was pushing Azzi away, too sensitive to keep going. Azzi didn’t let Paige push her very far.

“We’re not done,” she told Paige. Paige’s eyes, which had drifted closed to bask in her climax, flicked open.

“I’ve already come twice tonight, Az.”

“I know. And I haven’t even come once,” Azzi replied. She saw a hint of guilt flicker across Paige’s face. She softened, bringing a hand up to cup Paige’s jaw. “I know I could come just from fucking you,” she said.

“You already fucked me. You just did that,” she said, tone full of confusion. In answer, Azzi slid back into Paige, not bothering to go slow. Paige cried out, legs trembling once again, too overstimulated to handle more.

“I’m going to fuck you again,” Azzi explained. Paige’s head pressed into a pillow, hair fanning out behind her. Her hands fisted in the sheets and her face screwed up in a confusing combination of discomfort and pleasure. Azzi had to hold back a grin. Paige always did enjoy just a little bit of pain in the bedroom.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay,” Paige agreed breathlessly. Azzi knew that if she brought a hand down to Paige’s clit, it probably would be too much for her right now. Instead, she threaded a hand through Paige’s hair, deceptively gentle for now. As soon as she saw Paige settle further into the bed, discomforting making way for more pleasure, Azzi gripped a section of Paige’s hair close to her scalp and tugged. She expected a groan or an exhalation of her name, but Paige let out a high-pitched whine that Azzi had never heard from her before. Just the sound sent a rush of warmth through her stomach and between her legs. She could feel herself dripping down her thighs at this point.

“You liked that, baby?” Azzi asked, punctuating the question with a harder thrust. Paige moaned, still in that high-pitched tone that was so unfamiliar. She nodded quickly, hair moving around the pillow. Azzi used her grip on Paige’s hair to tilt her girlfriend’s head up to look at her. “Words, Paige,” she ordered.

“Yes, yes, I liked it. Fuck me harder, please, Azzi, need it so bad,” Paige whined. She was panting, hips bucking up to meet every one of Azzi’s thrusts. It was mindless at this point. Both of their brains were on autopilot, just trying to get the maximum amount of pleasure out of every movement.

“Good girl. Because you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want,” Azzi praised. She slowed her thrusts slightly but each one was more forceful. Paige went crazy for it, moaning and trying to physically pull Azzi further into her.

Azzi wanted to hear more of those sounds, even though they were practically constant at this point, so she replaced her hand in Paige’s hair, closer to the top of her neck this time, and pulled. Paige let out something that could only be called a whimper. She had her eyes closed, her back arched, and her heels dug into Azzi’s back. Neither of them was quite sure when Paige moved her legs, they just knew it felt even better.

“So tight for me, so wet. Just sucking me up, aren’t you baby?” Azzi cooed. Paige couldn’t even reply. The only thing in her head was “please” and Azzi’s name, so that’s what she said. She moaned her girlfriend’s name over and over, followed by desperate pleas.

“You want it faster, baby, or do you want to come just like this? I bet you could, just from me fucking you slow like this. Look at you, so pathetic. Begging for me like a slut,” Azzi mused. Degradation wasn’t something they played with very often, but Paige seemed to like it. She bit her lip hard enough that the skin turned white. Azzi brought her hand down to the area and pulled Paige’s lip free from her teeth.

“Please, faster, wanna come. So close, I need it bad. God, Azzi, fuck. Please, please, please,” Paige cut herself off with another whine. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes, tracing shiny wet paths down her cheeks. Just that sight almost made Azzi come on the spot.

The reminder of just how close she was made Azzi focus a little bit more on her thrusts and less on every other part of the intoxicating situation. Paige’s noises were constant now, and no part of her body could lay still. Azzi, on the other hand, was now fully focused on getting herself off. Paige was already so fucked out she had no doubt she would come too.

“So close, Paige, doing so good for me baby.” The praise lit up on Paige’s face and seemed to inspire her because she started meeting Azzi’s thrusts with renewed vigor. The added force made Azzi moan, loud and drawn out. It only took a couple more thrusts, Azzi’s hips meeting Paige’s on every one, until Paige was letting out a high moan, clawing at Azzi’s torso and arms, and her pussy was clenching around the dildo.

“Coming, Azzi, coming, please please,” she begged. Azzi didn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight of Paige coming apart around the strap and the wrecked expression on her face combined with the now overwhelming friction on her clit was too much.

“Good girl, Paige, yes, oh fuck, I’m there too,” Azzi panted. More tears were streaking down Paige’s face, this time more from discomfort.

“Too much, Az, can’t take it, please, enough, too much!” She pleaded. Azzi could feel herself clenching around nothing as she came. She thrust into Paige a few more times, riding out her high. As soon as she was aware enough to notice the uncomfortable look on the blonde’s face, she slid the strap out of Paige quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, too much. I know, I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. As soon as she had gotten herself out of the harness and deposited it somewhere on the floor next to the bed, she crawled back to Paige. Azzi pressed soft kisses to Paige’s cheeks, brushing away the tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re too sensitive for that,” she apologized again. She felt Paige relax against her.

“S’okay. I’m good. Great. Fuck, that was crazy,” Paige mumbled into Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi giggled, rolling herself off of Paige and onto the bed next to her. “We gotta clean up, baby,” she reminded Paige. Paige groaned, cuddling herself into Azzi’s back.

“Later. I’m busy being the big spoon,” she bargained. Azzi smiled softly.

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

[neverendingford]

.

[georgeclarkeys]

drunken nights - arthurtv x reader

summary - chris asks you to help him wrangle arthur for soccer saturday - 1k words

trying to get back in the groove of things post surgery :)

hope y'all don't hate it!

~

The sun had been up for several hours, but you and Arthur had yet to make it out of bed. You had your cheek pressed against his collarbone, allowing your forehead to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck. His arms fit around you like they were made to be there, and your hands had wound themselves into his soft curls. 

You were enjoying a lazy morning, because Arthur was scheduled to film a Soccer Saturday video with Chris and the rest of his friends in a few short hours. This meant that you would have the majority of the day to yourself, until your boyfriend had finished enough drinks to start sending you an overwhelming amount of drunk texts. 

The sharp ping of your phone drew your attention from Arthur for the first time in hours. Your face scrunched as you read the name on the screen.

“Why is Chris’s producer texting me?” You glanced up at Arthur, who shrugged his shoulders looking just as confused as you were. 

unknown number - 9:37 AM

Hi (Y/N), this is Laura from ChrisMD’s production team! Chris is busy getting everything ready for the video today, so he asked me to reach out to you about potentially joining us for filming this evening. You will not be on camera or in the video, we just might need your assistance with a few things 🙂 (to be completely honest with you, Chris needs you to wrangle Arthur. He is infamous for being a bit of a handful on these shoots. 😉) Let me know if you are available so I can relay to Chris. Thanks!

As soon as your eyes finished scanning the paragraph, you started giggling uncontrollably and flipped your phone around to let Arthur read the message. His eyes widened in shock.

“I do not misbehave that bad! I can’t believe they are calling in my girlfriend for me!” He huffed out a pouty sigh before continuing, “are you going to come?”

“It sounds like they need me,” you chuckled, “what do you think?”

Arthur thought about it for a moment, “I will never turn down the chance to spend the day with you. Join us, it will be fun.”

He pecked your cheek and slid out of bed while you responded to the text, mentally preparing yourself for a wild night.

~

As your day had progressed you found yourself in a pub before noon, and on a train to Doncaster that had taken several hours in delays, before landing in the streets of the city. Arthur was sloshed before the group had even made it onto the train, and his inability to walk in a straight line ahead of you was making it clear to everyone. He had been on a different level all evening. You were pretty sure he had been talking to anyone who would listen, but only about a third of the things he was saying made any sense at all. He had also found himself in the middle of a confrontation on the street by pointing out a man’s silly costume. Luckily, Bach stepped in to handle the angry partier while you pulled Arthur away by the hood on his jacket.

Now, you were at a complete loss of words as you stared up at your incredibly intoxicated boyfriend, who had somehow made it up a tree in the five minutes it took you to find a bathroom.

Looking around at the crew and the rest of the group you sighed, “how the hell did this happen.”

Your voice altered Arthur that you had returned. He found your gaze and beamed down at you, “babe! I’m in a tree!”

“Arthur Tree Vee!” George slurred out before jumping up and down and high fiving Bach. You turned to the sober members of the crew, who were all looking at you with exasperated expressions.

“Arthur! You need to get down, love, you’re gonna get hurt,” you called up to him.

“Okay (Y/N)!” he exclaimed before grabbing onto a branch and making an awkward, uncoordinated, spinning dismount from an incredibly dangerous height. He landed on feet before falling onto his back on the pavement. One of the cameramen stepped forward to capture Arthur’s flushed face and drunken grin and he proclaimed, “I always do what (Y/N) tells me.”

The rest of the group descended into fits of laughter, several of them even falling to the ground to join him. 

You and Arthur Hill rushed over to check on him, but he seemed unharmed. While pulling him to his feet, you noticed a cut on his hand at the same time that he did. His eyes snapped to Bach’s.

“We’re bleeding! We’re bleeding!” They both repeated, holding their hands to the camera and jumping up and down. You scrubbed a hand over your face, your boyfriend a handful when he was drunk and you desperately needed caffeine to handle it. Before you could think about it too much, Arthur and Bach started trading screams back and forth in the middle of the street. You slapped your hand over Arthur’s mouth, muffling the screams before he retaliated by licking a stripe across your palm.

You deadpanned, “Literally what is wrong with you.”

He just smiled at you, tilted his head slightly, and lightly bit the tip of your nose before skipping away to join the group, yelling out “I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND” into the starry Doncaster sky.

This was going to be a long night.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟlater that night

yourusername posted a story!

[hoopingwjuju]

Juju x volleyball player

i write how i speak sorry. mostly fluff with a side of smut.

☽｡⋆ word count: 1.5k

ღ- she wasn't very social when you first met her but she warms up to you be she likes the way you can make her laugh and pull her out of her comfort zone.

ღ- she made the first move by taking the friendly flirting seriously be she's not gonna shy away from something she wants.

ღ- she's very competitive so yk she has to win all her mini-games with you. it boosts up her ego every time.

ღ- after you taught her some pointers on how to serve she's been teaching you how to ball.

ღ- she likes to practice doing a bun with your hair before your plays or practices be she's gotta learn how to perfect her own bun somehow.

ღ- she likes to help you tape your fingers before practice be it gives her a little bit more time with you.

ღ- she lovesss to bother you so you gotta know how to stand your ground when she comes at you be she likes to argue and start stuff. plus she's hella sassy and she's always going to out sassing you.

ღ- you'll know when she's mad or something is up be she's gonna get hella nonchalant and strict.

ღ- you have to be really hard on her when she gets hurt or injured bc she doesn't know how to take care of herself. yet she can take care of you so well when your injured or hurt.

ღ- she loves it when you tag along with her and her family during the breaks.

ღ- her voice gets soft when she talks about you or when anyone brings you up.

ღ- when the two of you are around family and friends she can be all lovey dovey she wants, but your relationship with her is not known to the public so she has to be hella nonchalant about the dating topic when it comes up.

ღ- the reason why your relationship is not public is because you two don't want it to take away from your passions. i mean if people do a little deep research then they'll know to put two and two together and figure out your dating. she masks this fact by saying you two are best friends.

ღ- if you wear glasses she always carries a backup eye lenses for you in her bag in case something happens to the current pair when you're playing or practicing.

ღ- just sitting in her car in a parking lot listening to music. since you both have a curfew you can't be out late for late night car drives; soaking up each other's energy. she barely lets you touch the aux tho.

ღ- she will always open the door for you even after an argument or whatever. you're definitely her passenger princess; you have you're side decorated and all.

ღ- you're an outside hitter so you're pretty tall 5'10" with long legs so you're not that much shorter than her. so you love sharing clothes with her. matching sweats and lowkey matching outfits. also matching bracelets or other jewelry. she loves going shopping with you when she can.

ღ- whenever the basketball court is being changed for volleyball practice, she tries to stay and talk to you but gets kicked out most of the time.

ღ- she doesn't bother asking you were her hoodies are be she'll find them in your closet or somewhere in your dorm later.

ღ- your communication with her is really good. since both of you are student athletes you can't really see her every day when it gets super busy for you both, so you'll try to send her a few texts here and there throughout the day and she really appreciate this. same when you two are in away games, you'll try to ft to say goodnight if y'all can.

ღ- she loves laying on your chest when she takes a nap or the other way around. you love to write letters on her back with your finger when she's asleep.

ღ- when she gets excited or when she's laughing she likes to grab onto you and jump up and down or hits you.

ღ- she slept through the professors lecture and you guys had an open note quiz after, so she asked for your notes and after that you guys kicked it off. that is how you two met.

ღ- she loves to randomly stare at you and she's so oblivious sometimes when it happens. even her teammates say it's one of her biggest habits and tell her to stop it.

ღ- she don't play about you. she be ready to tussle when she's at your games and the other team's fans are talking shit about you. she can be obsessive and overprotective.

ღ- while celebrating you ending the game with a back row attack, one of your teammates is accidentally too touchy with you and she gets hella jealous. her jaw clenched glaring at whoever touched you. her glares are so lethal your teammate asks you "does juju hate me?"

ღ- you love it when she gets jealous bc there's nothing she needs to be jealous about; your all hers.

ღ- definitely calls the stuffed animals or plushies she gets you "our children."

ღ- she's a tomboy but whenever you want to dress up she lets you go all out with hair, makeup, and all.

ღ- she uses her face to get what she wants from you all the time since she knows you love her pretty face.

ღ- my pretty girl ju is your nickname for her and she won't admit that she likes it but she always responds to it.

ღ- loves it when you kiss her mole under her lips and when you play with her ears.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

ღ- very blunt and straightforward, but will say some very explicit things with a straight face and act like nothing happened afterward, which can be quite surprising to you every time it happens.

ღ- soft dom definitely.

ღ- likes to record you moaning and loves it when you send her videos with the sound on; she loves to listen to it like it's music to her ears. so don't ask her "what are you listening to?" bc it's different every time. it’s either music or you moaning.

ღ- has a sex playlist. (the song girl you loud by chris brown ft tyga is definitely on it top song fr).

ღ- she has a big thing on eye fucking you. (god her eyes are so pretty).

ღ- she loves to hold eye contact with you while eating you out.

ღ- even tho things are private she loves to sloppy kiss you anywhere be she gets a thrill out of almost being caught. she gets all cocky with that damn smirk on her face.

ღ- very touchy. hands on your lower back, smoothly moving you around grabbing your waist, having her arm around your shoulders and groping you through your clothing.

ღ- loves teasing 100% (you can't convince me she doesn't). "you like that baby? I know you do, you like anything I do to you."

ღ- since you're used to wearing shorts most of the time she loves it when you wear them around her. she gets hella touchy; grabbing your ass and roaming your body with her hands.

ღ- sends you dirty text messages about your volleyball uniform whenever you're practicing talking about how your ass jiggles every time you jump etc.

ღ- one hand on the stirring wheel other hand touching your thigh, running it up and down your thigh which always leads to car sex.

ღ- nothing gets her more turned on then when you grab her chin and make her look at you. like when your talking to her and she's not paying attention, just grab her face.

ღ- she cries while fucking you, be you're so good for her. (not elaborating).

ღ- when she's fucking you with her strap she loves it when you ride her; your titties all over her face and she can kiss your pretty face. also loves tribb-

ღ- she loves to be praised so she'll ask you "do you like that baby?" or "did i do good baby?" plus she has an obedience thing so when you tell her to do things and it can be something simple like "sit" she'll say "yes ma'am" every time.

ღ- she has a thing for hickeys but she can't really act on it be you two can't keep using makeup to cover it up if you both are going to sweat it off later.

ღ- you definitely leave hickeys all over her inner thighs (her thighs are so thick yall...) the first time you guys were intimate you left scratch marks on her back and she didn't even realize she had them until india pulled her to the side and told her.

fuck all that nonchalant shit she's really a lover girl, but let me shut up before i start yapping even more bc i didn't even mean to write all this... and i don't even know anything about volleyball shhhhhh.