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#<- his early pitch name
bowletta · 5 months
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leaked pitch bible Mandarin being punished for his crimes by becoming an unethical lab subject... 😶
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dogpixie · 7 months
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i wish severus wasnt so associated w harry potter now bc it rly is such a sick name..
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screampied · 4 months
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❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞
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ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.
wc. 6.5k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.
an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3
➤ sd!gojo masterlist
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the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .
as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”
“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.
“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”
the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.
as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.
he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.
he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.
god, he was handsome.
gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”
you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,
you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”
“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.
his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”
and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,
your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.
thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.
alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”
“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.
right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.
with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.
gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.
“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”
your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.
the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.
every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.
“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.
he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.
the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.
ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,
not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .
you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.
“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”
and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.
“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.
your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”
“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”
you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.
with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”
a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.
as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.
“c’mere, sweetheart..”
out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.
throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 
his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.
he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 
“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”
“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”
“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 
sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”
“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 
playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”
“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”
stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”
“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.
gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”
“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”
you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”
he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 
as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 
“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.
you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”
you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”
“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”
you start off realllll slow, 
sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..
your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.
as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.
he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 
gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”
“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”
his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.
breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”
“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.
his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.
as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”
“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”
as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”
“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.
with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”
“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”
“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”
“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”
you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.
his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”
“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”
“but—”
“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”
and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.
“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 
not just any passenger though, 
gojo satoru. 
he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”
with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”
“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”
“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 
panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”
“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”
“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”
you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.
“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”
“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.
“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”
“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”
“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .
and then— his phone rings.
you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”
still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”
in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.
“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.
a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.
he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”
“what—?”
with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.
you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”
you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.
you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”
right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.
“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”
“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”
gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”
he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.
zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
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jock bf yuuji who’s tongue lolls out of his mouth when he feels u cum on his dick and then he ends up cumming when you suck on his tongue as it hangs out of his mouth <3 he’s a big manhandler and so unbelievably strong, has def broken the weak frame of your dorm bed at least once <3 loves sleeping over and then waking up to you in the early morning light, eats you out then has you ride him and you’re both thinking about it for the rest of the day <3 yuuji sends you the riskiest texts too, texts you that he can’t stop thinking about how good you looked when you sucked him off the night before and now you’re distracted in the library <3
ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #6. pleasure prioritised.
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about. just some scenarios of an incredibly strong jock boyfriend pleasing his girlfriend in different ways. thank you nonnie for driving me up the wall with this!!! ( 1K )
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, smut, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, creampies, messy makeouts, breaking the bed, strength!kink, unprotected sex, oral sex (f + m!receiving), jock bf!yuuji, weird + fem!reader.
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everybody knows that yuuji itadori is strong, he wouldn’t be the star athlete in the soccer team if that wasn’t the case. 
with muscles that ripple when he moves, thick thighs that spread wide and flex on instinct and dark eyes that shine like gold while pulling you in — it’s no wonder why half of the campus wants a piece of him. luckily enough, yuuji itadori only wants to give himself to you.
yuuji only uses the full extent of strength when he devotes his body to pleasing you. when it’s lights out at your dorm go out, and the common spaces are vacant while your roommates party the night away and all that remains is a man who loves his girlfriend with all of his entirety. and a girl who loves him all too much, right back. he pins you to the bed, pelvis to pelvis as yuuji uses all of his might to pound into you.
his thrusts are usually heavy, but thoughtful and with meaning — designed to make you see bright, shining stars behind your eyelids and pull an angels song from between your lips. itadori doesn’t just fuck you —  his sweet girlfriend, his everything, his purpose. he makes love to you, makes the bed rock while his sticky tip stays tacked to your g-spot and safe, comforting brown his eyes stay locked on yours, reminding you of how much you are loved as you tremble and quake beneath him. 
there’s often a dull thump to the wall from where the force of yuuji’s hips drive the headboard into it. only you ever have the power to make your man that feral, have him drooling like a dog with its tongue in the wind whenever he has the chance to sink into your tight heat. it’s the way your snug little pussy ripples around the giant jock’s fat girth, his tummy smooshed up against your puffy clit does nothing to help him either. the more ecstasy he gives you, the more you clench down on your boyfriend and the further his eyes disappear into his skull. 
itadori just loves being inside of you, tucking his thriving dick away inside your velveteen walls, hearing your pussy suction around you and your cheap dorm mattress squeak in harmony with your hiccuped moans. yuuji, yuuji, yuuji. his name on your kiss swollen and tear glossed lips is enough for the pink haired man to break the bed from how hard and deep he thrusts into you. even when it does collapse in on itself, yuuji doesn’t dare stop until you’re cumming in sweet streams around him — painting his toned stomach and washboard abs in your arousal before he fills you up with his own thick white.
he usually cums with his drooling tongue in your mouth and an arm wrapped around your head, keeping you tucked underneath while he grinds his hips through your shared highs. sometimes salacious laments and high-pitched whines manage to slip through the cracks — which mean noise complaints from the Dean of your dorm and a call to maintenance in the morning to fix your destroyed bed (and walls).
mornings are no different (once your bed is fixed), yuuji itadori always fails to keep his hands to himself and if he’s lucky enough to stay the night — he uses those very same greedy and large hands to pleasure you all throughout sunrise. you wake up to find fingers on the swollen little nub tucked between your puffy pussy lips and his eager tongue swiping over the eight of your slit to catch any of your juices before they’re wasted on cheaply made college-friendly sheets. 
it’s a sight to behold, the way you arch your back from the bed and your thighs quiver either side of a head full of bright pink hair that tickles their insides. you can’t help but tug on the soft tufts — dragging yuuji further into your creamy cunt while accidentally kicking plushies galore from their place amongst your pillows and blankets. itadori remains a messy eater, slurping on your succulent folds, running laps over every inch of the heat between your glorious thighs. 
except you don’t get to cum on his mouth or his tongue on mornings like this — instead yuuji likes to really show off his strength. he likes you in his lap and seated on the swell of his fat, oozing girth. he adores plugging you full, watching you writhe above him for something, anything. any type of thrust or friction. yuuji can’t help himself, he’s always dying  to grope the globes of your ass when you’re riding him, using the strength in his arms  to hold over his bright red ans milky tip before pumping himself all the way into you in one calculated thrust upwards. 
both of you cum before either of your alarms go off, messy as always but content. you’re happy with yuuji and he’s always so happy to please you — it’s the least he could do for his precious girl. 
itadori always leaves you with a limp throughout the rest of your day — a comfortable pain in the base of your spine that reminds you of how deep he’d gone. there’s a dampness to your underwear during your classes too, reminding you of how much hot, oozing seed the jock had filled you up with. ‘keep it there,’ the pink haired soccer player tends to ask with those guilt-tripping puppy dog eyes of his. ‘want you walking around with my cum dripping down your thigh, so that everyone knows who you belong to.’
you often wonder what the campus would think if they knew how debauched their star player really was.
they’d have a field day if they saw the texts yuuji sent you while wiping the floor with his teammates during practices. pictures of his erection in the changing room mirrors and maybe some of your pretty face while he had you cumming on just his tip. sometimes paragraphs detailing how he was going to ruin your pussy, make you see god or even reach cloud nine. some tell you how much itadori misses your plush lips wrapped around him as he cums down your throat. 
but no matter what way you look at it, your jock boyfriend yuuji itadori always has your pleasure prioritised at the forefront of his mind. he’d use whatever part of his body, whatever strength he has to keep you satisfied. all alongside his insatiable appetite for you and only you. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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mellowwillowy · 2 months
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Bathtub sex with your husband because he was suddenly all petty and jealous with your servants helping you bathe.
CW: NSFW, slight yandere, GN Reader
Your husband had always been an understanding man, he thought with a cool head and logic all the time. He would never get jealous of his love rivals, reasoning he was way better of an option than they would ever be.
Yes, he was not arrogant but he knew his own self-worth. He knew he had always been the best for you.
So why did he suddenly insist on helping you bathe?
“Dear, did you mean bathing with me or did I hear you wrong?” You stood next to him as he prepared the water for you. The scent he chose had always been floral, something that smelled innocent in a sense.
Your husband shook his face as he felt the temperature of the water. It welcomed him warmly, assuring him that it was the perfect temperature for you to relax already. Yulian beckoned you to enter the bathtub and so you did.
He pushed a cart of bathroom amenities, the aromatherapy candles all lit to light the room enough for as he switched the lights off.
You sighed at the sensation, slowly melting into one with the water. Yulian sat by the tub, his hands slowly massaging your tense shoulders as he hummed a lullaby for you.
“How lucky are the servants who help you bathe to see you like this every day.” He whispered into your ears as you giggled.
“Are you envious of them?”
Yulian stayed silent for a moment as he poured water over your head, “Recently,” he spoke as he poured the ointment into his hands, “I’ve been seeing lots of divorce trials.”
You hummed at his reply, leaning into his hands massaging your scalp, “And?”
“Most of them come from… affairs.”
You raised one of your eyebrows at the mention of affair, “Are you saying I might be cheating with one of my servants dear?”
“Not really,” Yulian now focused back on massaging your shoulders again, “but I can't help but be bothered by the fact that one of your servants might be admiring you, enchanted by you.”
His face inched closer to yours now, “And while they are at it, they can freely see and feel your body…” his hands slowly felt your arms up and down, “and be around you every day, helping you dress, attending all your needs while I'm away.”
You've never seen your husband act like this before. This was the first time he had shown his jealousy blatantly.
Yulian started pressing chaste kisses on the back of your neck, his grips remained on your arms. You squirmed as his hands snaked further into your nipples.
“It's so unfair, I'm your husband and yet they get to see you so vulnerable more often than I would ever be.”
What was once a chaste kiss soon turned into hickeys, purple decorating you from the back of your neck to your collarbone. You recognized this gesture as his way of showing his pettiness.
“So today,” his fingers tweaked your nipples as he kissed your earlobe, “can I show you just how much I love and adore every bits of you?”
The two of you were connected in the bathtub, his cock throbbed as its snug inside of you. How many times had he cum so early yet still had the strength to continue? You knew your husband couldn't last long but that didn't mean his stamina was to be doubted.
His precision in hitting your sweet spot had always been pitch-perfect. It never failed to make you squeal and tighten around him, pushing him closer to yet another orgasm.
Yulian hid his face in the crook of your neck, trying his best to not bite into your flesh, and opted to bite his lip until he tasted steel instead.
You moaned out his name as you felt like you were about to reach yet another orgasm as well. Your hand intertwined with his, you turned back to kiss him, tasting his blood while at it.
“So close… together?”
Yulian’s cock throbbed at the mention of it before he nodded along, “I-I’ll try.”
Yulian lifted you from his lap and positioned you to lean onto the wall before he continued ramming into you like a starving man. Nonetheless, he still made sure to prioritize your pleasure as well instead of being selfish and chasing his own release.
Your knees wobbled and you felt really weak yet his strong grip wouldn't let you slide down, at least not until you two were done.
Ragged breath and breathy groans, the bathroom smelled like sex instead of florals. The whole candles flickered with each thrust he made and the water rippled with every shake your legs made.
It didn't take so long for you two to come in unison. The bath water that was once pristine and clean was soon mixed with both of your bodily fluids. Your insides felt warm the moment he came inside you again.
Your knees slowly gave up as the two of you slowly collected your composure. Yulian’s hands never let you go as he slowly lowered you into his embrace again.
He started peppering your face with kisses again, his fingers ran over all the hickeys he had left all over you, some were in a very visible place.
“How am I supposed to cover all of these dear?” you pouted at him as you pushed his face away from you playfully.
Yulian raised his eyebrows before answering you, “You don't cover them dear.”
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months
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Title: Nursle.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.4k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).
[Part Two] [Part Three]
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A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.
Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.
Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—
“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”
You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”
Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”
Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.
In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.
You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.
If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”
You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.
Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”
“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”
“Let me guess – maternity leave?”
Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”
Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”
This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”
“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”
You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”
“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”
“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”
Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.
You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.
It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”
You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…
This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”
You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.
He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.
He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.
You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.
You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.
He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”
“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”
It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”
You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”
You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.
“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”
~
Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.
“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”
You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”
That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.
“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.
“Geto Himari.”
3K notes · View notes
hoshigray · 4 months
Note
Hi hi LOVEEE YOUR WORKK
The way you write kinda touches my heart, and tingles my brain a little too
Especially your jjk fics!!!
Do you mind if I request a kind of angst smut fic of reader leaving home to blow off some steam after having a heated argument with any JJK man and he comes out to find her and resolve 😼😼🤭 it in the car?
Thank you for reading thisss 🫶
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: awww, ty for liking my stuff!! i was supposed to release a sugu fic today (but didn't, yikes, lmao), so imma make this sugu~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - angst + reconciliation - sex in a public area; car out in the neighborhood - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - feedbag position - oral (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, pretty thing, my love, pumpkin, sweetheart) - implied insertion at the end - mention of spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k
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“…”
“Y/n, what are you doing?.”
“You can’t see I’m taking a walk?”
“Please just get inside the car.”
“Leave me alone, Geto!”
Geto winces at the use of his family name. Oh fuck, they really are mad at me…
You were walking on the pavement, your anger exhibited through your feet, stomping as you traveled down the concrete floor in the supposed quiet neighborhood. Unfortunately, you weren’t alone; your boyfriend drove slowly to match your speed and speak with you. 
Why were you angry? Why don’t you ask the fucking asshat following you in that car of his? The two of you had a terrible argument not too long ago, and you’re sure the neighbors of your complex must’ve heard the audible insults and blows you two threw at each other for almost an hour. You hadn’t expected things to be blown out of proportion – it’s not unusual for people in relationships to argue. However, if your partner insidiously says something that he knows will tip you off the scales, are you not inclined to exit the apartment to blow off some steam before you choke him to death and have a murder charge on your record?
“Baby, c’mon, you can’t just keep walking on the sidewalk like this.”
So here you are, out for an evening stroll meant to calm you down, yet it’s doing the opposite since a certain someone is trailing alongside you. 
You suck your teeth, “Geto, go home! Why are you even following me?”
The tall black-haired man ducks down for you to see him from the driver’s window. “Because I feel bad!”
“Good!” You bark. “Good that you feel bad; feel nothing but bad, so just leave me be.”
“You know I can’t do that; look how dark out it’s getting!” It was around nine in the evening. The sun had just finished setting, so its shine was dwindling, and the twilight was mere minutes away from transitioning to dusk. “You can’t be walking out alone; just get in the car.”
“Hmph, absolutely not,” you can feel the crease of your furrowed brows worsening. “I’m heading to get homemade ice cream from that place I like; it’s the only thing that can put my mind at ease right now, and seeing your face and hearing your voice isn’t doing anything good for my mood right now.” 
The flat line of Geto’s lips is pressed harder, guilt swelling in the pitch of his gut like no other. “…I’ll take you to the place. Just hop in.”
“I’d rather get shot.” Apparently, your boyfriend doesn’t get the ‘don’t want to hear or see you’ part you stressed about literally seconds ago.
“That’s what I don’t want! Do you have any idea how long the walk is?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m very aware, and you’re slowing me down with all this chat.”
“Yeah, but you won’t get to that place until around ten o’clock,” he argues. And then that’s another hour and a half walking back; you’d probably be back home by midnight!” 
You couldn’t lie; hearing him be so concerned about you and your safety made you feel a little warm from the early summer breeze touching the exposed skin of the halter top. However, a part of your stubbornness refused to stand down. And yet the more you looked towards you, the further it felt like you’d reach your destination. He’s right; you wouldn’t make it home in time. Plus, it’s getting darker by the second, the comforting blue hue of the sky being absorbed by the bright, dominant moon. 
Once you come to an abrupt stop, Geto nearly forgets to hit the brakes, and your figure stands motionless and silent. Then, you move towards the door behind the driver’s side, opening the door to sit in the backseat. You beat Geto to the punch, breaking the silence, “Don’t talk, just drive.”
A soft, relieved sigh leaves the onyx-headed man, but he notices you avoiding the rearview mirror, where purple eyes flicker to try to see you. “…Is this really necessary?”
“What is?”
“You sitting in the backseat?” 
“What does it matter to you? I’m in the car, aren’t I?”
“What the hell am I, you Uber? Get in the front.”
“No. You said you’d drive me, so do that, and don’t make me angrier than I already am.” 
You thought you won the round when you didn’t hear a remark from your companion. Yet, that wasn’t the case because the man opened and closed his door, walked around the car to open the door to the other side of the backseat, and it takes everything in your power not to pop a vessel when he takes a seat. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’m very serious,” he closes the door. 
“Are you deaf? I said I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“And are you blind; can’t you see me trying to make this work—“
“Work?” Oh, how you wanted to burn this car up. “You should’ve thought about that when you said what you said back there.” You didn’t know if it was right to say that—That sounded mean, was it mean?—yet it came from a place of hurt that he caused.
Your words strike deep into Geto, but he still speaks his mind. “Y/n, please…Can you at least look at me?” You don’t move a muscle. “I’m your boyfriend, so can you at least look at my face and not push me—“
“Yeah, you are my boyfriend,” malice in your tone. “And you’re doing a pretty terrible job as of today.”
“Y/n—“
“God!” Now, you finally turn to him with vexation scorching your pupils. “I just want to be left alone–away from you, alright! What part of that don’t you get?! Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“Because I’m sorry!”
Your lips nearly quiver at the snap of those three words, eyes on the brink of shedding tears. Nonetheless, your face returns to the front. “Bullshit…H-Hey, let go!”
“I told you, I’m being very serious!” Geto brings you in for an embrace, and your resistance is hushed down as he keeps talking. “Look, I…I’m sorry. What I said back there…I didn’t mean for it to hurt you like it did, baby. You said something before that made me angry and…” his hold on you gets tighter; you notice even if you’re busy hearing every word from his mouth. “I didn’t think what I said would make you leave, and I got scared.” His mellow voice delves into a hushed tone. “So fucking scared…I’m sorry, Y/n. Just…don’t leave me out like that, okay…”
And with that, the remnant of your irritation ceased. The hotness of your blood subsides to a calm flow, your body easing into the hug as his apology repeats in your mind. You couldn’t think about your argument before; you just can’t, not with an apology like this when you can feel and hear him be genuine and vulnerable. You wanted to be angry with him–you tried– but the more you forced the outrage, the more you kept burrowing your head into his chest and your hands wrapped around his slim figure. 
“You’re such a dick, do you know that?” Doing everything you can not to cry since his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. “And…I’m sorry for saying stuff that made you mad at me, too.”
“Guess we’re both dicks, huh.” A joke meant to make you giggle, but he doesn’t sense the jerk of your shoulders. “Hey, I’m sorry. You forgive me?”
“Sure,” you murmur. “After you get me that ice cream.” Your jest made him chuckle instead.
“Mmm, on it,” your breath stops at the kiss on your temple. “But, before that,” he lifts his head, violet eyes examining your expression. “Don’t you think I should also have a little something?”
His question confuses you until you feel the grasp of his hand sneak inside your jeans, and the bare flesh of your ass meets the mild cold of his fingertips. “Suguru, what are you—“
“Compensation,” he kisses your neck, and you gasp at another rough knead on your asscheek. 
“Oh, that’s bull…Mmm.”
“Oh? So you can have ice cream to forgive me, but I can’t have anything?” The hand is then lifted out to move to the front, his gingers pressing on the part of your panties that cover your groin. “Well, aren’t you selfish.”
You couldn’t question his logic with his digits now motioning up and down your concealed cunt, your legs spreading apart as Geto’s forearm pushed them aside for easier access. “Hahhh, Sugu…Mmmnn, not here…”
“Mmm? Why not?” He says with faux shock, gently having you lay on your back as he spreads your legs further. His hand still fingers your underwear, only fueling a wet spot to protrude more and more. “It’s dark out, and no one’s driving around here.”
“That’s not—Mmmm!” A thumb presses down on your clit; how cruel to sneak that attack on you. “Ohh, fuck…”
Geto kisses you, gradually unraveling your erotic senses with every peck he places on your lips with his soft ones. And his lips don’t rest there, laying kisses to your chin, your collarbone, and lifting your shirt to expose your abdomen for him to kiss and suck the skin of your tummy and navel. All the while, his fore and middle fingers keep pushing into your chasm as your hips buck subtly.
Another minute of pleasing you with his hand goes by, your wetness becoming more and more evident as his digits did the work in having you wet for him. “Look at you,” he’d say cooly. “Making a mess, such a dirty, pretty thing you are.”
“Sugu, stop, you’re making me—Oooh…” he slips his middle finger inside your panties to insert you. And then, his thumb dances around your clitoris, evoking the shaky moans to leave you. “Ahhh! Noo, don’t move like…”
A snicker leaves his lips. “What? You like it when I tease you like this, don’t you, pumpkin?” He pushes your underwear out of the way and continues to finger you. “You’re gripping on my finger like crazy.”
“Shhtoop, your fingers,” your hand finds his wrist yet does nothing to stop him. “If you keep going, I-I’ll…Hooohh…”Your eyelids suddenly feel heavy, closing them to conceal your vision. However, that only enhances the use of your other senses, indulging in the sense of touch as Geto plays with your pussy. 
Even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Geto takes the initiative and removes his hand to lick the fingers. “Oh, my love,” he coos while rolling up your underwear to stay on your inner leg after removing your jeans. In the meantime, the man brings your hips up and rests your legs on his shoulders. “That’s exactly what I want from you…”
Your eyes snap open at the contact of something wet yet firm, sliding across your wet folds, your body jolting at the sensation of it nestling between your labia. And the flick of his tongue on your clit nearly has you choke. “Suguu, no, don’t—Ahaann!”
Any attempts to squirm out of his hold don’t seem manageable now that you two are in the backseat of the car; his hands firmly keep you stable and still as his face ventures closer to your genitalia. Tiny moans get louder and louder with every lick of his tongue cleaning your slit of your essence; ironic as more of your fluids seep out as he does so.
Your hand grabs hold of tuffs of his raven hair, but that only eggs him on to keep going. Pushing his tongue into your entrance, he fucks you with the wet muscle and has your body writhe and crying for him. As the space gets hotter, you wouldn’t be surprised to find fog starting to cloud the windows. But that would probably be for the best as you wouldn’t want people on this road to know what you two were doing, nor hear the squelches from the commotion.
“Ohhhshit, shiiiit,” your head pounding like crazy, you couldn’t think straight, and the walls of your cunt keep clamping onto the tongue that swirls around and has you wailing. “Ooooh,hoooh, Sugu’, I’m gonna—It’s coming…! I’m…Aiishhh!”
“Go ahead, angel,” he says before licking your clit erratically, using his middle finger to fuck your release out. “Let it out for me, baby.”
With how fast he’s sucking and licking your delicate bud and his digit rubbing on your velvety texture, how can you not come? You scream aloud at the wave that crashes on your body, your hips jerking on their own as the trembles of your orgasm rock your entire frame.
Geto keeps you steady, taking in your release with his mouth. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, his fingers kneading your waist as if to relax your body for him as you ride out your high because of him. Quivering legs get less apparent with every buck, and once your breathing returns to an average pace, he places you back down. 
“Good job, sweetie,” he bends to kiss your cheek as he unbuckles his pants to expose his briefs that harbor a tent. “You tasted too good to resist; wanna feel you all on me…”
“You…” you grab for his cheek to pinch. “I better get my ice cream tonight, Geto Suguru.”
Your soft threat has him chuckling. “Will do, baby,” and you succumb to a kiss.
If the windows hadn’t fogged up already, they sure were going to now.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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emberuby · 3 months
Text
the queen's guard | p.sh
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pairing: knight! park sunghoon x queen! reader
summary: park sunghoon is a member of the king's guard, meant to be a loyal and devoted knight to your husband, the ruler of the kingdom. little does your husband know that you've been having an affair with his knight for many years, and your two children, including the heir to throne, belongs not to him, but instead sunghoon.
genres: smut, drama, slight fluff, slight angst, period piece romance, forbidden love, bodyguard romance (kind of).
warnings: cheating, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, dom! sunghoon, sub! reader, unprotected sex, mentions of abuse and allusions to sexual assault.
note: feedback is greatly encouraged and feel free to ask questions <3
wc: 2.3k
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The sounds of wooden swords clashing together filled the air. The sky was grey and the wind was cool in the early autumn morning as you looked out into the training grounds from the balcony of the castle. 
Julian was running around the muddy field, flailing his sword around and laughing maniacally. Sunghoon was grinning to himself as he watched the little black-haired boy desperately trying to disarm him of his sword. He was only six years of age, so Sunghoon was not using any of his strength as they played a duel. It had been almost an hour at that point, yet the Prince still showed no signs of tiredness.
Sunghoon fell on his knees as he pretended to get injured by the hit of Julian’s sword against his steel armour. “My Prince, you are becoming too strong. Please have mercy on me,” he begged, mustering up his best acting skills, not that it would take all that to inflate that little ego of his. 
You smiled to yourself at the sight of your son giggling and swinging his sword at Sunghoon with his thin little arms. The life of a Queen was isolating and yet overwhelming, but moments like these slowed your life down and reminded you what was worth living for. 
You walked up behind your son, patting his head and smiling down at his glittering and innocent face. “Mother! You should’ve seen how I took Ser Park down just now!”
You kissed his forehead, “Oh, I saw it alright. God, you are becoming a fierce little warrior, aren’t you?”
“I will be a knight one day, Mumma,” he exclaimed, swinging his sword up in the air.
You smiled somberly at him, reminded of the fact that none of his dreams could become true due to his birthright, but you nodded nonetheless, knowing your son deserved to live in bliss for the first few years of his life before the pressure of royal life crushed him as it did to you. 
Sunghoon didn’t want to play along with your pretence as he said, “You will be King someday, Julian.” Sunghoon tried to never call your children by their titles. It would be the proper etiquette for him to call your son ‘my Prince,’ but you asked him to drop the formalities long ago. It was incredibly uncomfortable hearing the father of your children refer to them that way, so when nobody else was around, he usually called them by their names.
It would be obvious to anyone except your dumb, old whore of a husband that his heirs were not of his seed, given their striking resemblance to a certain knight of his. Julian had the thick eyebrows and the pointed nose of Sunghoon, as well as his kindness. Your two-year-old daughter Penelope on the other hand, while still growing into her features, had the same exact eyes as the man standing in front of you; pitch black and deep with an intensity that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.
Julian began to whine in frustration, “I don’t want to be King, that’s boring. I want to be strong like you.” He huffed and stomped his feet, in an all too adorable way.
Sunghoon cupped the boy’s chin with his pointer finger, tipping his face up so he could look into his eyes, “You are already strong, and you will continue growing stronger. You will need that strength and battle skill when you become a king.”
That seemed to calm Julian down a bit, and you let the two keep playing as you watched from the sidelines for a while, enjoying the sight of your son relaxing and getting to spend quality time with his father. It made you feel guilty that he doesn’t know about his true parentage, and wasn’t sure if he would ever be given the chance to.
You were afraid of him losing everything and being chastised for being a bastard, not to mention the threat of your husband looming over him, but you were glad and thanked the heavens above you that you didn’t have to bear the child of a monstrous beast that is your husband. Your children were a product of love, which was a rare occurrence in your society. 
You were married off to the king at a very young age, as you were the only daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the kingdom. Your now husband desperately wanted to gain the favour and funding of your house, and your parents had no problem with selling you away like cattle at the prospect of gaining more power in politics. 
He requested your hand in marriage when you barely reached womanhood, and when he had already lived twice your life. He was a disgusting pile of rotten corpses in your mind, and you still remember the times in your early marriage when he would assault you and beat you when you supposedly ‘acted up’. 
It was better now, however, as he was barely around, either because he was busy being an incompetent leader or going around the city to any brothel that he could find. It was a fact of your womanhood that being unfaithful to your husband was considered a great sin, but nobody ever seemed to care for how outwardly whorish your husband was. 
You didn’t have the privilege of parading Sunghoon around as your paramour, not the way your husband did with his mistresses. In the early days, he would even let them stay with him in the castle, and you remember hearing the noises of the gaggle of women in his bed chambers letting him do obscene things to them, not having a care in the world as they embarrassed you. 
When you first came to the capital, you were nervous and alone with no family. Sunghoon was the only one in the castle who was around your age, and the only warmth you ever experienced within these cold walls.
Sunghoon has been in love with you since the day he laid eyes on you, and throughout these years had to hold back from committing treason and beheading the man who he was sworn to protect just so he could never hurt you again. 
It didn’t take long for your affair to begin. You were both young, immature and needed comfort within the misery of your lives. It had been almost a decade since you began your love story, and your heart clenched at the reminder of its reality. 
In your eyes, Sunghoon was the most important thing to ever grace your world, followed by your two beautiful children, but in the eyes of everyone else, none of it meant anything. 
You snapped out of your flashback and your worried thoughts when you noticed the steel armour taking over your line of sight. Sunghoon was standing too close for what is considered appropriate for a knight and his queen, but he knew when you were in your head so his sense of worry took over him.
“Is everything alright, Your Grace?” Sunghoon said. He never did manage to drop the titles with you. Well unless…your face was heating up as you were reminded of the rare occasions when he did say your name, which was almost always when his cock was drilling inside you in discrete locations around the castle. 
Sunghoon’s face shifted into a smirk as he noticed your fluster, knowing it usually meant one thing. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Were you perhaps thinking of inappropriate things?”
You nervously shook your head, “N-no. Of course not. I was just losing my focus, I apologise.”
He didn’t believe you but chose not to comment. “The maids came to take Julian to his bath,” he informed. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“I have not. I will need to get ready for it in my chambers,” you said shyly. Your husband was still out on his visit to a neighbouring kingdom, leaving the castle much emptier than it usually was. You desperately needed to seize the opportunity to spend time with Sunghoon. “Would you wish to accompany me?”
“It would be an honour, Your Grace,” he grinned, knowing all too well what you really meant when you spoke those innocent words.
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Your palms were pressed up against the stone walls of the Tower Room at the far side of the castle. Sweat was dripping down your body and the sound of skin slapping was filling the air within the tower. 
“Hng…,” you moaned as Sunghoon’s cock hit the sensitive spot inside your cunt. “My love, p-please, s-slow down.” 
He fucked you like he was furious with you, even if it was incomprehensible for Sunghoon to be angry with you. 
“You can take it, Y/N. Stop whining,” he gripped your hips tightly as he kept slamming himself inside of your sensitive and abused cunt. It had been over an hour since you’d been inside the tower, however, Sunghoon was still not satisfied.
Your walls were on fire as you tried to handle the stretch of his massive size. Even after all these years, you had not gotten used to him. 
He was bullying his way inside your tight cunt, heavy balls slapping the sensitive surface of your pussy while at the same time, it was getting rammed over and over again at an animalistic speed. 
You mewled mindlessly, your nipples hardening at the coolness of the room as well as the arousal that was flooding your body. 
He always made you feel so full, desperate and utterly pathetic. He was always too much, no matter how much he prepped you by having you cum repeatedly on his wet and skilled tongue. Sunghoon didn’t mind though—a sadistic part of him always enjoyed seeing you struggle to take his cock and your mind go numb at the pleasure he made you experience. 
You tried to lean forward to get away from his grip and the relentless pounding of your pussy.
“Absolutely not,” Sunghoon said pulling you back harshly, making you shake as he hit your sensitive spot again, “You do not run away from me. You will take me fully,” the corner of his lips lifted into a smirk and his hand came to strike you on your plump and bare ass, making you yelp out in shock. 
“Ahh…,” the sound of your sultry whines sends blood rushing to his cock, “‘m sorry…I-I am so s-orry. Forgive me, it’s just t-too much.”
His cock did not slow down on its pounding of your cunt, refusing to give in to your request. His thrusts were harsh and deep, yet steady. The tip of his cock was hitting your cervix. 
“You know I can’t just go slow when we will be separated again soon,” Sunghoon groaned, “Not to mention just how much I need to put another baby inside you.”
Your cunt clenched around him at the thought of him filling you up again with his seed, getting you pregnant with another illegitimate heir to spite your husband once more. 
Sunghoon pulled you back against him by your hair, and he leaned down to say in your ear, “You don’t understand how happy it makes me that I took everything from that beast. Not only do I have his wife, but my son is the heir to his throne,” you were panting as you felt yourself getting closer to your release. “The king will die under the weight of his own sin and evil before my son will sit on his throne. It’s my daughter who is the Princess of his land. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t fill me with pride.”
You knew how dangerous your games were with him, but every part of you longed to fulfil his wish of giving him another child. “S-Sunghoon, cum in…inside! Please!”
“Would you like that? Filling you once more with my seed and leaving you swollen with my heirs. You always look so ravishing when you’re pregnant,” Sunghoon groaned. You knew for a fact that if Sunghoon and you were married and had more chances to spend together, you’d never not be pregnant. If he had the chance to, he’d always be inside you. “You’re doing so well for me, my love. Just a little more,” his words were strained, and you knew you were both about to cum together.
He kept rocking his hips into you, and you let out a moan despite the ache of your over-sensitised pussy. 
It almost shocked you when washed over you, not expecting your orgasm to come so quickly. You withered in his arms as you felt the electricity rush up your spine, your mind spinning round and round. Your jaw slacked as you let out a long whine at the exhaustion of your pussy Sunghoon kept rocking into you after your orgasm was beginning to come over you. 
Sunghoon bent you further down to look at your cunt struggling to take his cock. God, you were so beautiful and intoxicating. 
You felt his sock twitch as he came inside you, spilling his seed and coating your walls with his arousal. It felt like bliss having him and his cum inside you. It felt like you were drowning in him, and by God, you would die happy if you did. 
He pushed his cock deeper in you, making sure to plug the cum inside you so as to not spill it. 
He began pressing kisses onto your shoulders, wrapping his arms around your chest and letting you rest your back on him. He smiled against your skin, intoxicated by his love for you.
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Jealousy
Three times Jason gets jealous during dates and one time you do (Pre-established relationship) ~1.6k words
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You're perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Jason's life has never been better since he's asked you to be his partner. (Okay, hush, you asked him, but he was getting there, he swears, he had this twelve step plan and everything. Tim was going to jump off a ledge while throwing rose petals. Rose petals!)
He can't find a single problem with how your relationship is going. Well, expect, how everyone else seems to want your attention you too.
The little Café you wanted to try is nice, really. The guy behind the counter that's been staring at you since you both got here? Not so nice. It's annoying, how the guys gaze seems to linger on your legs, your smile, the way you brush your hair back. It's a struggle to focus on your words– but not a struggle to watch the way your lips move when you talk.
The worker takes a step out from behind the counter.
Oh hell no.
Jason's on his feet and pulling out the chair next to you in an instant, between one word your pretty voice is saying and the next, he's sitting by your side with an arm draped around your shoulder.
He loses his train of thought when you smile, pleased, and raise an eyebrow.
"What's this for, Jason?"
"Wanted to hear you better." He says, or he thinks he says that. He's too busy watching the creep slink back behind the counter, satisfaction growing in his chest.
You laugh. (He thinks angels might descend from the sky when you do.) And go back to telling your story. It's much easier to listen this time. That's what he tells himself, at least until your thigh presses against his.
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Gotham Zoo is actually really nice for, you know, Gotham. Bruce poured money into it before, but ever since Damian found out about it, he's practically ensured the place will run ethically and comfortably for the next 100 years. Which Jason thought was cool, but it's even cooler that he gets to watch his partner coo over the new petting zoo.
"Aw, Jason, look at the lambs! They're so soft. I wanna take one home." You sound giddy, eyes bright and smile wide. He can't quite pull his focus away from you to see which creature you're referring to.
"They're pretty cute." He responds instead. Not cuter than you, though.
"Could you imagine one for the apartment? They'd sleep in bed with us. It would be like cuddling a cloud." You say idly, fingers stoking the top of the animals head.
That makes him pause. How'd he cuddle you if there's some barn animal in the middle of the bed? There's no way he could get close enough to you if some pet you found cute was cuddled between you. He clears his throat. "Well, ah, I don't know how the landlord feels about lambs but you can always cuddle me? I'm– I could be soft?" Wow, okay. Not what he wanted to say. He cringes a little.
But you stand up, smiling brighter and gaze focused on him. That settles the feeling in the pit of his stomach. You curl your fingers with his and take his hand, pulling it to your face to kiss his knuckles. "You're my favorite thing to cuddle, you know."
Oh. "Huh. I mean, good." He stumbles out. No, his ears are definitely not feeling warm. And no, his heart isn't beating faster as he follows you towards the next enclosure. "I could wear wool, though? If you wanted?"
That makes you laugh. Eyes trailing to him with such fondness he nearly sinks to his knees. Until he sees the playfulness etched in your face. "I saw you petting those rabbits early. I could wear bunny ears? If you wanted?"
He chokes on air. You might be trying to kill him. His whole face feels as heated as his ears. "Wow. I– if you wanted?"
You giggle, pulling away to observe the next lucky animal that you see.
"Hey. Wait–" He says your name, voice a little pitched. "Did you want–?" You only wink at him. That shuts him. And if he spends the rest of the date a little distracted, well, you seem proud that you managed to make him so flustered.
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Your coworker has been talking to you for thirteen minutes and fourty-seven seconds. Jason knows this because he's been watching the clock since he got here. It happens more often than not, him walking you home from work. He shows up fifteen minutes early because he knows you'll slip out given the chance. Something about not taking up too much of his time. Don't you know you're the only one he wants to spend his time with?
Jason crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at your coworker. Three inches. That's the amount of space your coworker has moved closer to you since he's gotten here. Not respectable at all. Doesn't he know you're with Jason? Maybe he should have stopped into that jewelry store he was eyeing earlier. And called Tim to put in an order for rose petals.
Your coworker shifts another inch towards you. And that's it. Your shift has thirty-five seconds left and that's exactly the amount of time it takes for him to be by your side. His arm slips around your waist comfortably, like it belongs there, because it does. He kisses your cheek and lets his gaze settle on your coworker. And if his face is a little more threatening than usual, he definitely isn't trying to intimidate your coworker. (Yes, he is.)
"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" He drawls, body relaxed like he isn't torn between showing your coworker exactly who you're dating and pushing down the jumble of emotion in his throat. "I was thinking take out for dinner?"
You relax into his side. Oh. You relaxed into his side and you're smiling at him. It evens out the pounding in his heart he didn't even realize was happening. The tension threatening to take over his shoulders disappears like it never existed.
"Yeah, Jason, I'm ready. I missed you. Just let me clock out." You pull away– 'no' he starts to think– and then you take his hand, pulling him along with you.
"I missed you too." He answers, and you don't quite see the smug grin he sends over his shoulder to your coworker.
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Jason's perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Willing to try new things. A total package. That's something you know about your boyfriend. So when he agreed to go dancing with you at Gothams newest club, you were excited. A whole night spent enjoying time with your boyfriend. And you both get to dress up a little. You feel hot, and he definitely looks hot. You didn't think that'd be an issue. But, it is. Because you can see your boyfriend getting held up by two of the prettiest girls you've ever seen.
He's holding two drinks, one for himself and one he went to get for you. It soothes the tightness in your throat that he does not look thrilled to be talking to them. The softness he has when he's with you gone, replaced with poorly masked annoyance.
Any comfort you were feeling from the look on his face disappears when one of the girls puts her hand on his arm, giggling like he's said the funniest thing in the world. Absolutely not. You're walking over to them before Jason even has time to shrug her hand from his arm.
"Hey, honey." You say, voice sweet and sugary as you take one of the drinks from his hand, hooking your arm through his and tucking yourself against him. "Everything okay?"
It makes your heart flutter everytime, the way his entire face seems to change when he looks at you. "Hey, baby. Yeah. Everything's okay. Didn't mean to take so long. Were you worried?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.
The girls seem to deflate at how his complete attention is on you, how he instinctively shifts until you're pressed flushed against his side, two pieces of a whole. You have to force back the pride that threatens to glint in your eyes. "Not worried. I just was getting bored without you."
Neither of you really look over at the girls when they murmur something about catching up with their friends, but Jason manages a polite nod. Once they're gone, his grin widens, eyes teasing. "You were jealous. You called me honey."
You gasp in mock offense, yes, honey isn't the first term of endearment you jump to, but it's a perfectly valid word for him. "Jealous? Jealous that my tall, dark, sweet, and handsome boyfriend was getting hit on?"
He laughs, you think you might have swooned in a different time. "C'mon, pretty. Give me this. I saw you watching."
You can't help but smile at him and wonder, vaugley, if he knows you'd give him anything he asked of you. "Yeah, yeah. I was a little jealous. But, don't think I don't notice when you get jealous. Now, come dance with me. I like this song."
Now it's his turn to gasp, faux denial on his face. "I have never, not once in my life, been jealous."
You roll your eyes, playful and light as you pull him along to the dance floor. "Alright, lover boy. Because you're definitely not the reason my coworker wouldn't talk to me for a week."
He looks pleased at that. "He didn't?"
You raise yourself on your toes, kissing his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipstick. Neither of you move to wipe it off. "Mm. No. He didn't."
"Nice." He mumbles, unhooking your arms so he can hold your waist as you reach the dance floor. "I do get jealous too, though, sometimes."
Laughing, you find the beat of the music together and your world centers on him, just how his centers on you. "I know."
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gutterfuuck · 4 months
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sukuna smut… ur his nephew’s hot new best friend from college…
cw: mdni!!, agegap (sukuna in late 40s, reader in early 20s), modern au, dad/daddy kink, sukuna is high key problematic, lmk if i missed anything this is just a little thing so i can continue on my writing streak haha!!
ur bff yuji’s uncle sukuna is so hot. he’s tall, covered in tattoos, had muscles that flexed with the slightest movements… god he was so fine. he asks you if you want to feel his biceps one day after he catches you staring at him working out, sitting up from the rusty bench press and lowering the weighted bar onto the frame as he wipes his forehead with his forearm. he smirks as you approach him timidly, “c’mon, i don’t bite.” he chuckles, taking your shaky hand into his and pressing it to his arm, making you press your thighs together with how close he was to you.
ur bff yuji’s uncle sukuna who starts sending yuji to the store or on little errands when you’re over at the house, spending the time his nephew was absent flirting with his sweet little friend. “skirts a little too short, don’t you think?” he’d say as if he was making a joke, raising his eyebrow when you’d become flustered with your words and start stuttering. you’d worn that skirt just for him, you were so glad he’d noticed! yuji comes back almost an hour later with shopping bags in his arms, thinking nothing of the way his uncle gives you a slip of ripped paper with his number on it.
ur bff yuji’s uncle sukuna who makes you feel like, so grown up! you and him start to hang out together, he takes you out on his motorbike and lets you drink beer with him! he treats you like a real real adult, like the adults who have mortgages and homes. you two were just two adults, doing adult things!
ur bff yuji who catches on to it and is like, sooo grossed out! he yells at sukuna, something about him being a scumbag, right in front of your face when he realises his uncle’s hand inching up your skirt. of course you’d go after him, but later… you were too wasted to leave the house now, it was dark outside and creeps were out and about!! you’d apologise to yuji later, try and get sukuna to apologise, too! it wouldn’t be hard to tell him you guys weren’t dating, because you really weren’t! sukuna just… liked to get handsy. he’s from a different time, don’t you know it was polite to grope girls as a compliment?
ur bff yuji’s uncle sukuna who tells you since you’re an adult, just like him, maybe it’s ready for you to do adult things together, behind closed doors. your worry shifted from what you’d tell yuji later to the stiff rod that poked you in your thigh as sukuna slotted his hips into yours, kissing you softly before licking your lip and nipping on it, making you gasp as he pulled away and pinched it between his teeth before he let go. “c’mon, it’ll feel good… you want your first time to be with someone experienced, right?” he coaxes as he licks your ear, his hands softly gripping your body.
ur bff yuji’s uncle sukuna who’s got you dry humping him, hips melding against each other as you both made out sloppily, his strong arms holding you in place so he could rub his clothed hard cock right against your slickening pussy. he’s somewhat gentle until you accidentally call him dad- and then uncle- and then finally sukuna, a slip of tongue like when someone would call a teacher ‘mom’ on accident. sukuna didn’t care, he wanted to tear your clothes straight off of your body. young pussy was the best, especially young drunk pussy. he couldn’t wait to promise you only the tip, just so he can keep budging himself into you until he bumped right against your cervix… couldn’t wait to bounce you up and down til you were squealing out his name all high pitched and bubbly with your sweet voice cracking—
“filthy nasty bitch- was that really an accident or did you really wanna call me dad? uncle, maybe? you like it when uncle’s balls deep in your wet cunt…? h-hah, nh- did you really just tighten up just now, fuckkk… dirty little slut loves dad’s dick, hm? fucking d-disgusting— you’re getting off more than me now, hnm?” he talks and you can hardly process his words, fucked dumb with your eyes rolled up into your skull…
sukuna couldn’t wait to show off his new pretty little thing to his friends. if he’s feeling generous, maybe he’d let them take you for a test drive too. it was only last week he listened to toji bitch and moan about how he hadn’t had good pussy in a while and it really didn’t take much for you to listen to your bff’s older, tattooed, tall and hot uncle sukuna…
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gyucheolslut · 1 year
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2:14 AM • KMG
lowercase intended.
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cw: somnophilia (consensual), established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), creampie!! yum!! multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nervous gyu, whiny desperate gyu & f!reader.. they both want to please each other so bad :( neck holding? it’s kind of implied that reader is smaller than gyu, his shirt is big on her and falls off her shoulders.. .. pet names such as baby, sweetheart, pretty girl… maybe more.. i don’t know.. i got carried away
word count: 1.7k~
not proof read!!
a/n: hi!! i’m eve~ this is my first time writing smut and i’m using it as a way to get back into writing! im super excited! i haven’t written in like.. 2 years.. so be nice to me.. :[ i hope you enjoy :]
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
mingyu couldn’t help himself. while you usually don’t move much in your sleep, especially within his tight grip.. tonight was different.
you wouldn’t stop moving..
at first, it wasn’t that big of a deal, with you occasionally shifting in his arms.. but it started to become an issue when your ass kept pressing into him, stirring up his mind and now painfully hard cock.
small soft whimpers and whines would occasionally sneak past your lips, making it more difficult for his mind to focus on anything other than fucking you in to the mattress..
while mingyu knew you weren’t doing it on purpose.. he could tell you were actually asleep.. the movement of your hips almost seemed too calculated. are you dreaming of him?
as if on cue, he was torn from his thoughts by a broken whine of his name.. “gyu..” it almost sounded painful. desperate. you needed him, he decided. he had to help you.
with shaky hands, mingyu found himself messing with the band of your underwear underneath your his shirt. why was he so nervous?
you had discussed your sexual limits and interests early on in your relationship.. and you’ve woken him up many times to some fantastic morning head.. so why was he so nervous?
mingyu sat there, contemplating for a moment before he whispered a small “fuck it..” under his breath, one of his big hands finding its way into your underwear.
using his middle finger, he pressed it between your folds finding your clit with ease.. groaning quietly into your hair as he can feel how warm and wet you’ve become. you were definitely dreaming about him.
with a skilled digit, mingyu circled your clit. feeling your head fall back into his shoulder, he peered down at you. the moonlight from the window illuminated your face, allowing him to watch the tension in your forehead release and your lips part in satisfaction.
he dipped his finger a little lower, teasing your entrance for just a second.. adding his pointer finger as he pressed them into you. you were always so reactive, so sensitive. your back arching off of his chest slightly.
using the arm that was underneath you, he adjusted himself to pull you back against him. pumping his fingers into you skillfully, curling them every few thrusts.
your breathing became heavy and a little unsteady, body wriggling against his from pleasure. mingyu hums softly, placing wet kisses along the side of your face, lips stopping at your ear to whisper a gentle “s’okay baby.. i’ve got you” as he increased the pace of his fingers.
as the tension in your belly began to build, your eyes fluttered open.. a hand reaching to grip his forearm. “fuck..” you whined, pressing your hips down to meet his movements.
mingyu smiled against your ear.. “there she is..” he muttered, shifting himself even closer to you as he became more brutal with his pace now that you were awake.
your grip on his forearm tightened, mirroring the band of fire stretching in your lower abdomen, signaling your impending climax.
clasping your fingers around his wrist that was setting an unrelenting pace on your dripping core, your mouth drops into an o shape, a high pitched gasp escaping before silence took over for a moment..
the only noise to be heard was mingyu’s quickened breath and your squelching pussy that was gripping his fingers even tighter than you were his wrist.
as you broke the silence with a anguished whine, mingyu wouldn’t let up. he couldn’t. he wanted more. he wanted to make you cum.. again and again.. and again.
“gyu, please.. i need more. i need you.. i need you to feel good.” you begged, turning to the best of your ability to look at him with teary eyes.
really..he felt great. watching you cum because of him was all he need. but he understood. you needed him. you wanted him.
mingyu searched your eyes, slowing down his movements before coming to a complete stop and pulling his fingers out.
despite asking him for more, you couldn’t help but whimper the loss of contact.. your hole clenching around nothing as it was desperate for more. for mingyu.
moving lazily, but skillfully.. mingyu pushes your underwear down, feeling you kick it off of your ankles beneath the blanket before following, pushing his boxers down and kicking them off the edge of the bed.
he quickly grabs your waist, needing to feel the heat of your skin. keeping you on your side, back pressed to his chest.. mingyu grabs your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip. you locked your foot behind his knee in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded.
leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, mingyu began to drag his tip through your drooling folds. sucking a breath in between his teeth, resulting in a quiet, hiss like noise that went straight to your core.
whining in impatient anticipation, you pushed your hips back against him, gasping when his tip bumped your clit.
mingyu felt hot. he felt like he was burning… that feeling worsening as he felt your warm, sopping cunt engulf him.. taking inch by inch of his painfully hard cock.. like it was made for him. molded for him.
a broken mewl escapes his throat, a hand sprawled against your thigh that was propped over his own. he speaks softly in your ear, voice laced with need.
“there ya go baby..” he exhales.. “shh.. s’okay, you’re taking me so well.. god.. you’re so warm sweetheart..” he practically coos, allowing you to adjust to his size. you’ll never get used to it.
when you started moving your own hips against him, he knew you were ready, hand dragging up your body to rest heavily against your throat.
pressing into you, the arm that was underneath your body adjusts to not only stop it from falling asleep, but to grip and paw at your closest breast.. underneath the fabric of the shirt you were still wearing.
the shirt has fallen off one of your shoulders, it’s bunched up around your waist. it’s pointless for it to be there, but neither of you care to remove it.
the room is filled with heavy, hot breaths and the pornographic sound of skin slapping as he repeatedly makes contact with your ass.
you’re dripping around him.. your thighs, his thighs, covered..so much skin is glistening with your arousal.
it’s loud, the squelching of your heat that is sucking him in so greedily.. your moans, whines and whimpers. his groans, grunts and mirroring whines.
“oh.. my pretty girl.. is that better? does my baby feel better? you needed me so bad” he starts, voice laced with an almost condescending hum “practically begging for me in your sleep”
you moaned out a broken sound that was more of a “ngh” than a reply, eyes fluttering closed as you were unable to keep them open any longer. you felt so good, too good.
gripping the forearm of the hand that laid against your neck, you felt yourself becoming dangerously close.. parting your lips to speak, to warn mingyu.. but nothing was coming out but breathy gasps..
mingyu’s pace is almost inhumane, his mind is clouded with the want and need for both of you to cum. hips snapping into yours as he chases both of your climaxes.
he takes note of your attempts to speak, hand snaking down for his fingers to find and circle your clit, your body reacting strongly to the added pressure. it’s almost too much.
“i know baby.. fuck.. are you gonna cum? hm?” he hums, kissing your exposed shoulder. “gonna cum for me pretty girl? gonna let me fill you up?” his tone is desperate, so desperate.. so whiny and overwhelmed. it’s only adding fuel to the fire that is erupting throughout your entire body.
pace unrelenting but becoming unsteady as he approaches his high, mingyu uses his pointer and middle finger to rub your clit until you’re practically exploding around him. a strangled moan echos in the room with the sinister sound of him fucking you so good as you reach back to grip his hip, back arching against his toned chest.
you see white as you cum, jaw dropping in a silent scream, fingers digging into the skin of his hip/ass. drool trickling down the side of your cheek, mixing with your tears that started to flow. you felt so good. so incredibly good.
mingyu whines, gripping your hip as he continues to pound your tightening, pulsating pussy.. mumbling praises as he closes in on his own high.
his bruising grip gets even tighter on your hip as he presses himself flush against your ass and body, painting your insides with hot, thick ropes of white.
hips stuttering against yours as he whimpers into your neck and shoulder, thrusting a few more times, riding out his high and pushing his cum even deeper into your warm heat.
you’re breath heavily, whining in overstimulation at his last few thrusts, your grip on him not letting up.
mingyu stills, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin he can reach. you stay like that for a while, catching your breath.. listening to mingyu’s sweet praises on how you’re so good to him, how pretty you are..
he pulls out with, slowly.. rubbing his length against your folds a few times to spread his cum all over you. chuckling when you whine again when he grazes your sensitive clit, attempting to move away from him.
you end your night with mingyu cleaning you up, giving you water and making you change your now sweat soiled shirt. he holds you, your body engulfed by his arms, head against his chest, your arms wrapped around him as he mumbles something about definitely needing to wash the sheets tomorrow morning before you both drift off into a comfortable sleep..
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screampied · 4 months
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‘ CANDY BOY ! ’
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ᡴꪫ sum. who would have thought that the #1 camboy in your city was no one other than your virgin roommate gojo, who’s totally putting on a show for his fangirls. he talks too much, but maybe you can shut his mouth and put his sweetened little fantasies to reality.
wc. 5.8k
warnings. fem! reader, camboy!gojo, college au, gojo's a virgin, switch! gojo, unprotected, dirty talk, he gets pússy drunk quick, overstim, "good boy" usage, cunnilıngus, premature ejaculating, nipple play, lots of spıt, handjōbs.
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if someone would have told you that your loser of of a roommate who stuffs his mouth with a bit too many sweets, cries at romcoms, and is just an overall dork was a camboy, you’d call them crazy. batshit crazy even, yet that’s exactly what happened—
gojo was rightfully one of the top camboys in the city, probably in the world too. he was sort of a household name, it was more of a side hustle for him. he did it only for the money—sure, he adored his fans, even the ones that went a little too extreme with the provocative thirsting. but that’s all part of the job, he’s about seven months strong in his little gig. every saturday and sunday, he logs on under the user of: @/GOJOSLUTORU.
the moment that same notification pops up that he’s live, a plethora of his fans join immensely, wondering just what their favorite camboy satoru was up to today. his streams would last for a good two hours—longer sometimes if it was some kind of special event where he’d reach a massive amount of donations, a special treat for his fans. gojo was beloved for his flirty personality, he’d make his fangirls swoon with his words, despite knowing full well he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a lady.
that’s until you came along—more like catching him right in the act. it couldn’t have been any more embarrassing though. eleven thousand eyes were cheering him on, showering him with lewd "good boy" praises until you drop your bag.
“satoru?” you utter, curling your brow into a surprised furrow once you take in the scene in front of you. tossing the spare set of keys into the bin, you glance at your roommate—he freezes mid stroke with the most flustered expression. his hands were a bit … occupied, and a glimpse of a familiar cloth you once wore catches your eye. “are those my panties?”
“no….?”
with a deadpan, your shoulders drop before you drag your feet towards him to take a quicker look. oh, those were definitely your panties. so that’s where they ran off too. gojo tries to shield his nude exposed lower half with a nearby towel but it’s no use—you saw everything you needed to see.
“anywhooo,” he swallows, taking a brief peer at his chat that was flooding with all types of questions. they wanted to see you, they wanted to see gojo’s pretty roommate who he’s always rambling about on stream. clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before pitching his tone. he tries to sound more attractive but ends up butchering right away, stuttering at his first pathetic sentence. “ i- i didn’t think you’d get here so early. how was the exam?”
“it was … fine,” you mumble, barely acknowledging his words. your mind was racing vigorously, trying to process how you’d just seen your roommate half naked. going up behind him, you lean in towards his neat set up—you grew a bit curious, immediately, your eyes meet the other eyes that stare back at you. near the top right displayed his large following of eight hundred thousand, the top left displays his current view count, a whopping amount of almost twelve thousand. peeking at the chat, you’re met with dozens of freshly new comments saying how pretty you are, asking if you’re his girlfriend he always talks about, and so on. “you’re a camboy?”
“heh, camboy’s kind of an exaggeration but,” and he’s nervous, you can hear the slight tremor in his voice. it’s cute, gojo was prepared for you to judge him for his side hustle but instead you don’t. he relaxes a bit, shifting his attention away from his crude chat and towards you. “i like to label myself as a um, streamer..”
you have a growing simper. “i don’t think streamers usually get naked for their audience,” and you take a quick stare at his attire—he was practically shirtless, his boxers were covered although he was wearing some kind of tank that had ‘submissive and breedable’ printed on the very front. you furrow your eyebrow, though you choose not to question it. his nervously sly smile only grows once he catches your eyes quite literally checking him out. glancing at the comments again, you hum. “why do they keep asking if i’m your girlfriend? you don’t have a girlfr-”
“woah, s-shut up!” he whines, cupping a hand over your mouth. you giggle, feeling the warmth of his palm rub against your lips. gojo lowers his voice, speaking in a faint whisper. “they think you’re my girlfriend,” and he peels his hand away before running a finger down his nape. “i told them that because-”
“satoru,” you roll your eyes, noticing how he was quite stiff with his body language. being this close to you, your mere elegant fragerence was so exhilarating for him. you made him this nervous, truth be told ; you were far too caught up in your academics to even realize your roommate had a little crush on you. however, you do wish you found out in a more … non less of a lewd way, a way where he wasn’t caught red-handed fondling with a pair of your pretty sage-colored panties. with a sigh, you mumble to him. “you wanna fuck, don’t you?”
that’s definitely not what he thought you was gonna say,
with pouty shimmery lips, gojo’s eyes widen before a sheepish grin marinates against his features. “pft. do i wanna fuck, whaaat?” and he doesn’t even last a second before sighing, dropping his head down in defeat. “y-yes..”
the ringing from his monitor — dozens of women sending him gifts, tickets, donations, begging for their favorite camboy to notice him only gets more disruptive.
the ringing grows louder, the repetitive chiming sound of bells, the blaring notification it makes whenever someone sends him a sweet contribution. pretty soon, he was on the verge of meeting yet another goal. ever since you got spotted on the stream, his viewer count doubled.
“well, why didn’t you just ask? besides, there’s other ways than using my panties to get off.” and a wave of embarrassment washes over his face. the towel’s still covering his torso before he shoots you a shy smile. any closer you could’ve got to him and he thought he was gonna explode. the heat radiating from you had his head going in a crazed ditz. stroking his cheek, you speak softly.
“i’m sorry,” he whines, bottom lip poking out. you end up sitting flat on his lap, and instinctively, the curvature of your waist was met with two big hands snaking around it. you’re so pretty like this, he wanted you so so bad. swallowing, he peeks towards his chat before you cup both of his temples to stare right back into your eyes. “i was gonna ask you but- but i’ve never done this, you know,” and the way you slide a finger behind his neck, skimming the texture of your middle finger down his undercut snatches a purr from him. “i- i want you, but i just don’t know what to do with like .. i wanna make sure that i don’t embarrass myself.”
oh, he couldn’t have been any more cuter,
you heard the slight crack in gojo’s voice at the end of his candied sentences before you sling your arms over him. “don’t be embarrassed,” you softly reply, still straddling his lap. “i can always show you how.” and he gulps, your voice was smooth as silk. sweet as honey, the more you strum your thumb down his undercut, the more he can hear the rapid pulse of his heart beat throb through his ears. the simplicity of your touch was enough to have him weak.
“please..” he murmurs in a hushed tone, loving the way how gentle, how tender you were with your touch. gojo mewls out a needy whimper, feeling a sudden tent rise near between his legs. he was hard, you’d giften him a pretty solid boner and whilst you were propped up on his lap, you felt it rub against you all too well.
gojo awaits for you to make the first move, but you’re teasing . . seeing if he was going to initiate, and he does, inching his sheeny lips into yours.
your roommate pulls you into a deep kiss, he tastes like candy, candied. with your arms still occupied, wrapping around him, you glide your tongue against his, parting lips, teeth clashing amongst each other in sync. you could hear the faint sounds of whimpers run from his lips, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands though—so gingerly, a hand of his strums down your back, giving the fabric that stuck against your skin a soft yank. he wanted you, the strain beneath his half on boxers only grows the more he starts to suck on your tongue.
heavy, wheezing breaths collide against each other, hitting each moving muscle like a wave,
he’s so eager,
gojo’s mind clears everything out of his head and he’s just focused on you. the saccharine tang of your signature lip gloss, he tastes it and it’s so delicious.
through cerulean-pristine hazed peripherals, gojo looks towards his chat to read some of the comments . .
chososdoublehomicide: i miss choso
zorosthroatwarmer293: i wanna be gojo >:( she’s so pretty
secksybabeamy: Hey hot stuff ;) Subscribe to my only fans!
throatgoatemily: His whines omg
as the kiss deepens, gojo whines once your hand slithers its way down between his legs. slowly removing the towel that sheaths his exposed body, you feel against his dick. at first touch, he whimpers, then whines, then whimpers again.
he was so pent up—you could feel it, you were gentle with your fingers, brushing it against the length of his dick before gently wrapping a hand around its girth. gojo moans in your mouth, feeling hitched breaths arise from his lungs. he could never get enough of how fucking sweet you were,
and he didn’t even want to.
pulling away for a long gasp of fresh air, he bites his lip as he looks down to feel your hands stroke his cock. gojo had quite the staggering inches on him, he shivers at how precise your hand movements were—
up and down,
with a hand of yours gripping over his fat length, a thumb of yours runs down the vein that coats his shaft. its pulsing, he’s needy for more of your touch so bad that it sends shockwaving static to rigorously coarse through his bouquet of neurons.
“y-your hand feels so much better than mine, heh,” he breathes, swallowing the imaginary balled up lump that resides near the back of his throat. blue irises, dilated and all stares at you—a hand reaches towards your back before his thigh starts to bounce. “not to be weird but i kinda had a dream about this, angel.”
“a dream about me stroking you?” you hum, amused before sneaking a wet kiss near the crook of his twitching lips.
gojo nods wearily, forever deeply captured by your beauty. your hands swiftly resumes to stroke him, feeling the tender skin that lives near his frenulum peel back every few seconds. gojo moans, burying his face into the very depths of your neck. so desperate, he wanted more and more. “aw, is this too much? should i slow down?”
“no.. don’t stop,” and his desperate plea was so sweet, though he wanted to go further. you giggle once he suddenly lifts you up, dragging you towards the bed. “f-fuck, ‘m sorry. can’t wait anymore,” and he hovers over you with that crazed look of total desire. “can i … eat you out?”
with a coy smile, you’re laid on your back as he just stands over you — eyes gawking at your entire physique, the way your thighs were all out with the short hem of your shorts reaching against your ass. you could tell gojo was impatient, that hungry stare in his eye never once faded.
“yeah,” you coo, parting your legs slowly. oh, you were a fucking tease.
not only were you a tease for him, you were a simple force to be reckoned with. no panties on either, gojo felt himself get hard yet again before he kneels down. with your roommate positioning himself between your legs, he lets off a soft sigh.
combing your fingers through his soft tangles, he looks up at you with a craving yet impish expression. you giggle, making him look right into your eyes. peering at his chat that was going ballistic over his girlfriend, you speak in a soft tone. “do you know how to even eat pussy, ‘toru? i can h-”
“girl i know how to eat pussy,” he grumbles, and he sounds almost offended at you asking if he needed any sorts of help.
sure—gojo literally didn’t know the first thing of eating a woman out, maybe visually.
but now that he’s up close, he has to stop himself from folding right then and there. so soaked, he gets a full view of your slick entrance, your pussy was the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes upon so far.
as he’s a few inches a apart, with sprawled open thighs—the last thing you’d expect was for to gojo to start drooling all on your cunt. a stringy, syrupy concoction of his own saliva pours out of his mouth and onto your folds. just a quick glimpse and he’s pussy drunk. fuck, he’s more embarrassed than he’s ever been but he can’t help it. gojo didn’t even get a taste and he’s already salivating at the sight of your sopping wet arousal. a thumb of yours wipes the spit that dribbles near the corner of his mouth and he whines at your touch again before he finally digs in.
lolling out his tongue, the very tip licks near the inner moistened entrance of your pulled out labia. gojo for probably the umpteenth time lays his tongue flat before he goes all in. a broad left hand of his attach towards the fat of your thigh as he remakes a long striping lick. “s-shiiit, ‘toru.” you gasp, the coldness on his tongue taking you by sheer surprise.
the texture of it .. you’re weak, gnawing on metaphoric bars of your enclose as well as the skin on your lip, you whine.
for someone who’s never had much experience, let alone no experience, you’d easily second guess. your back arches forward while gojo’s tongue rummages through every part of your clit. he sucks on your nub, closing his eyes and fully sinks into bliss. gojo’s pristine white brows cock into a furrow before he slides a thumb down your wet entrance. he just can’t get over how wet you were for him. sopping wet, inept lips of his constantly quivers before he gives your cunt a sweet kiss.
wet for him, he breaks his lips away for a few seconds just to smear his face against your pussy.
“m-mhm,” he whimpers, wanting your scent to linger on his face for as long as it could, your scent .. it was hard to not get obsessed, a few minutes in and he already felt his mouth watering.
as bundles of minuscule taste buds of his tingle with excitement — his tongue swiftly swirls through every orifice, not missing any spot. he searched through the gooey crevices of your walls, lips moving in complete tandem. his dick strains between his thighs that it’s almost painful.
if eating you out tasted this good, he only imagined what it’d feel like to be inside,
shoved deep into your pussy, stuffing you full with his luscious thickset inches . .
that same repeated whine that always sounds raw dies straight out of your esophagus, you yank on the strands of your roommate’s messy hair as his pace quickens by a mile. in the midst of devouring your heat, a broad hand of his caresses near the juncture of your thighs—he kisses the long slope inside of your entrance, lips all glossy and glittering with gloss thanks to you. that same panging throb starts to grow within you again. your toes curl up tightly before your eyes meet the drywall splattered on the ceiling. his tongue, the way it continues to scrabble all through every part of your cunt, he grows addicted almost immediately. gojo can’t help but lather a few sloppy kisses on your folds, sliding his tongue through your slit.
he even starts to tongue fuck you, softly thrusting the swollen tip of his tongue in and out until you’re about to whine out again for him.
that was his favorite part by far, pushing his tongue in and out of your puffy folds — relishing the way your pretty pussy coats the underside of his chin with a lustrous amount of sweet, burnished slick.
“ngh, ‘toru,” you’d wail, and your hips start to jitter against his face. he doesn’t mind . . in fact, gojo brings two hands to grip against the curves of your hips.
once he maintains a secure grasp, he lets you rub your wetness all over him. with his tongue thoroughly exploring in every part, he starts to whine too .. so eager to touch himself but he wants to keep his hands on you. a whiny whimper wrenches from the back of your throat before you start to babble. “satoru, ‘m gonna cum, fuuuck. jus’ like that, keep l-lickin’ there, baby.”
he was such a quick learner, part of you thinks he maybe had more experience than you oughta thought. gojo can’t help but attack your sweet syrupy folds with a multitude of kisses, drooling lips of his making you more sticky than you already were. your legs could barely hold themselves open.
he had to pry them open with clammy hands, slurping in every drop as if he was dehydrated with thirst. a thirst you happily quenched with him being propped between your legs. after a while, he runs a thumb down your slit once more, pretty eyes glancing up at you, wanting to see your sweet face. “a-am i doin’ a good job?” and his voice was a bit hoarse, the way he speaks, drooping eyes and a sheepish grin—visibly pussy drunk, you grab onto his strands before rocking your hips into his mouth. he giggles, muffled noises eliciting from his mouth, taking your eager jittery movements as a yes.
he just couldn’t get enough of his roommate’s taste.
occasionally, he likes to depart his lips to gather a nice concoction of saliva—only to then spit right onto your sopping folds, whining at how it was so shiny. so pretty, he’s mesmerized again at how it looks, and you end up cumming with the cutest shrieking orgasm. it snatches out of you roughly, your speech is slurred for a moment as your legs quaver in utmost pleasure.
you’re shaking, feeling him clean you up with the flatness of his tongue—gojo moans, white lashes fluttering as he takes your beauty in. this was so much better than one of his risqué wet dreams. so much better,
without even a single word leaving from his lips, he gets up to pull you into a kiss. almost immediately, you taste yourself that lingers on his tounge. it tastes sweet, gojo props himself between your thighs as you sit up, a free hand of his sliding between your stretched out legs. the constant rings of his donations continue to scream out that same annoying chime before he leans in to shut his computer. he’d probably have left so many—thousands of his fan girls devastated, but there was only a new fan girl he was fixated on.
you.
gojo was addicted, with tongues colliding against each other, hot breaths wafting against each own, he feel his breath hitch at your touch. a hand of yours snakes down to feel on his erect dick. he whines, gnawing at the bottom of your lip before his tongue gets more curious. he licks the bottom of your chin, the side of your mouth, only to then pull you into another deep kiss. “f-fuck, ‘m so hard,” he rasps between sultry kisses, heaving from each breath. you still couldn’t get over the taste of yourself that loiters all on the flat of his pink tongue. “i wanna feel you from the inside, angel.”
“but your stream,” you tease once he finally pulls away, taking a second to catch your breath yourself. you felt the heat roam across the room before stroking his cheek — flushed lips of his burn with such intensity, you had him feral. “your fans, i wouldn’t wanna interrupt them, ‘toru.”
“fuck them,” he pouts, the cute frown on his face tugging against his lips. “okay that’s mean, they help me pay rent but just- i want you right now,” and he’s so needy. he paws at your t-shirt, glossy eyes widening, god. his bottom lip pokes out, squinting for two seconds before seeing how your nipples invitingly poke out. so perky, he could feel his mouth watering sporadically. he lays you back before swallowing, a loud gulp before he hovers over you. “you knew this was gonna happen, didn’t y-you? such a tease.”
you simper, opening your legs for him and he gets a good glimpse. gojo sucks his teeth, still so soaked. he only dreamt of what you’d feel like inside.
probably so tight and warm,
the more he thinks about it, the more he could feel himself starting to drool. gojo’s panting as if he’d just finished a marathon. a hand of his wraps around his length—giving it a few solid pumps. “i thought you’d wanna do doggy for your first position,” you sweetly say, and oh, he pouts for you again. you sit up, awaiting for him to take the lead first before smiling. “missionary though? you’re not so good with eye contact, baby.”
“i know how to do missonry.” he grumbles.
“missionary,” you correct him with a titter.
he pouts again, preparing to align himself. so wet, your pussy was sopping wet, swollen from just being eaten out so good. a warm breath fans out through his lips before he rubs it against your slippery slit. “and don’t call me baby,” he moans, although the simple pet name for him a lot harder than he thought it would. slowly, gojo’s fat leaky tip continues to ghost against your folds. you hold back a sweet moan, laid all out on display for him on the mattress. he’s waited for this moment, had dreams about it, even fantasized about it. “fuck,” he’d huff out, and his voice cracks. you’d laugh but he’s staring at you the entire time with that cute pouty expression. “can- can we hold hands? for you know, leverage?”
“leverage, sure,” you play along, your fingers locking against his. damp, perspiring palms squeeze against yours before his rounded tip starts to slowly make its way inside. immensely, a breath gets caught in his throat and he whines. the warmth he’s rudely greeted with makes him gnaw his pearly whites together. “you’re kinda b-big, so go a little slow, ‘toru.”
“i’m big?” he repeats—cutely enough, it boosts his ego that you think so, yet his confidence fades the further he dumps a few hefty inches into your entrance. as you expected, you were a bit tight and stiff for a few seconds—unyielding against him for a moment, you moan. saying gojo was big was a mere understatement, he couldn’t help but lean in to lay against your chest. “how’s it feel? s-slower?”
“it’s good. that’s good,” you start to heave, gasping once he inches his head closer to latch his lips against your neglected cold nipples. he doesn’t even lift up your t-shirt, he runs his tongue through the fabric and sucks on your perked tits. “t-toru, fuckk.”
it was a soft twinge sensation at first before he’s close to bottoming out . . so close,
it’s at the moistened tip of his tongue. gojo’s shaft resumes to go in further, you feel him pulse inside before once he’s all the way in, he’s already out of breath. with his mouth occupied—he’s still sucking on your nipples through the shirt, whiney. a free hand of his runs gives your left thigh a nice firm grasp before he starts up a single few thrusts.
you whine, tossing your arms over him and he glances down at you—beads of sweat race down the sides of his brow before he sits up in a proper position. gojo can’t get over how pretty you look for him like this, he’s fully in and he sneaks a kiss onto your lips. “can i m-move?” and the falter in his voice was adorable, gojo’s breath continues to get more heavy before you give him a nod. he peppers various kisses near your mouth, neck, and of course, your precious chest. his personal favorite,
with frail arms wrapped around him, pulling him close—you run your ankle down his back and he moans. “oh, ‘s even better than i imagined,” he whispers against your ear, hot breath sending you antsy judders. the more his breath goes against your skin, the more you smell how minty it was. fresh, you desperately yearned for more so you pull him into another kiss for the nth time. “ugh. the way you clamp down, ‘s gonna kill me,” he babbles in a low puff. he’s speaking between staring up at decent pace for you to get accustomed to. you whimper, trying to get adjusted to his barreling length but he was just so fucking big. it was an ongoing rumor that between gojo—and his best friend suguru geto had the top biggest dicks. of course, you always wondered exactly how whoever started that rumor would even know, but gojo was definitely a packer. he stretched you out in ways you’ve never felt before. with strained breaths, he coats your mouth with many wet kisses. time and time again, the feeling of himself going into you raw has him drooling again. “pussy’s so wet, ‘m gonna die, oh my god.”
“don’t be dramatic, you’re not gonna die.” you try to reassure him. the grip on your hand only grows tighter, crimson lips of his suck against the underside of your chin.
so damn needy,
mussed strands of white tickle against your forehead the closer he presses his body into you. gojo was shivering, just a few minutes in pussy and as if it was a game—he’d be on the last level, game over. albeit, you feel it too. the warmth, it turns into a sweltering hot. as his hips rock, his whines start to become more vocal. he sneaks a hand down to feel the area that’s being stuffed, a thumb skims against your tummy before he moans,
“feel me t-there, yeah?” he whispers, a cute attempt at dirty talk but alas, it’s subtle. gojo easily folds once your eyes meet his gaze.
you moan, intertwining your fingers with his, moaning out a soft, “yeah,” and you sound out of breath yourself.
he’s jerking back and forth — his pace, his tempo . . wasn’t too slow or two fast, perfect.
with a quivering bottom lip, he leans in to lick against the outer shell of your ear. your cunt’s singing in harmony, sloshes of wet that leaves its metaphoric vocal cords and you start to get a bit louder. “f-fuck, ‘toru right there—fuuuck.”
“s-shit, you’re so pretty,” he pants, repeating his ways at coating your entire face with his wet kisses. you had him weak, entirely. you found it a bit silly considering how this could have happened anytime—anytime at all, all he had to do was ask. but gojo being gojo, he was not only a man with barely any experience, but he was nervous. he’s always had a bit of a crush on you but confessing sounded way scary. it was as if this entire thing was mere coincidence though, you happen to find out he’s not only a sloppy eater but,
he’s a camboy.
part of you wonders what he does on his streams. if you saw him rubbing one off while thinking about you—you could only imagine what other lewd antics he participated in.
gojo’s rutting into you at a much more quicker pace, he’s whining into your neck;
forgetting to praise you, and it’s more of the other way around. you’re cupping his face, stroking his cheek before repeating in that same melodic voice, “good boy, ‘s so good, makin’ me feel good, ‘toru baby.”
your voice, oh your voice, he could listen to it all day. you feel the constant twitch of his cock inside you and he whines every time your ankle rubs down his back. with the way your pussy holds him hostage— it’s so provocative, his reaction time was as slow as a sloth, droopy eyes stare at you before he grunts out a pleading, “f-fuck, ‘s gonna come,” and his voice sounds like a soft purr, gojo was like a kitten to you— so cute, his pout always make things more true too. he’s groaning in your ear, fat balls thwacking against you before his ears starts to ring. you’re moaning with him, bodies thrusting in sync that it’s almost like a pornographic choreography. “ugh, i- i feel it, ‘m gonna cum so much. so hot, gonna die.”
“breathe, baby,” you whisper, pulling his face closer to you. his chubby cheeks squish together once he’s within your grasp, the sharp piston of his hips makes you moan. his thrusts gets a bit sloppy and you press a kiss onto his mouth. “mwah,” you hum, watching how flustered he gets at a lick of your affection. “you wanna finish inside, don’t you?”
gojo whimpers. “yeah, yeah. really bad,” and the moment you suggest that, his ears perk cutely. he’s gotta be careful though—with a cunt as addicting as yours, he just might end up falling in love.
speaking of love, it’s as if heart eyes pour into his irises as he glances at you—again, metaphorically of course. gojo gulps at the tender touch of your fingers, leaning in to nip a kiss near your neck. through muffled words, he mewls. “i wanna fill you up. ‘s only fair since you’re milking me s-so much, ‘m so thirsty,” and he’s just babbling, pulling him close—he whines once he feels your finger glide through his sensitive undercut again. “hngh, gonna break me. let me make a mess in you please? i’ll even eat it out of you once ‘m done.”
you’re tempted at his pleads, giggling before dragging him into a deep kiss. “such a blabbermouth,” you tease between kisses, staring to feel the tears of sweat race down the sides of your forehead also— with a sly smile, you lick the drool that was about to run down the side of his lip. “finish in me, ‘toru. it’s okay. be my messy boy.”
his eyes dilated once he hears that,
your messy boy.
he even repeats it, “y-your messy boy, yeah, ‘m so messy for you, roomie,” and as he’s preparing for his inevitable release, he sinks into your warm embrace. “one more kiss, h-hold me.” and as if on command, you yoke his head in close, giving him a deep, passionate kiss. his pulsing heart beats through his ears. gojo—by this point, he was already whipped. the way his hips pick up, growing more sloppy and deranged—he’s feral.
the feverish under parts of his thighs burn, longing for its incoming conclusion climax—yet, as your smoldering heat gnashes against his, it finally comes.
with a primal gasp, it’s here.
the nirvana—euphoria, whatever it could have been called to describe this feeling, it was here.
gojo whimpers, going into a complete spazzing fit once he feels the slow orgasmic waves of himself starting to shoot literal humid blanks inside you.
it’s hot, parching hot— your heat against smelts his, it scratches a fervor itch in your brain. his tongue rummages the inside of your mouth again as he’s painting the insides of your gummy walls with his snowy white color.
satiny ropes of your roommate’s seed trickle into you, it’s so gooey and hot that it starts to stick against the inner parts of your thighs. each rough kiss reflects the same desire the both of you share before he shudders.
slow thrusts, he’s barely moving as fast as he was before but he’s still active. he wants to make sure you feel every inch he’s saved for you,
for weeks, months, maybe even years—
“god,” he whimpers out, pulling away from your glossed lips—a pretty cobweb of spit departs from each and he happily laps it up with his tongue. who knew your roommate was nothing more than a mere freak.
not you, not by a long shot.
it takes a moment for him to catch his breath, with a flustered look— gojo’s now clingy.
he doesn’t wanna move away from you, nor does he wanna exactly pull out. not just yet, he’s plugged you full of sticky cum that was threatening to ooze of your hole before he kisses the bridge of your nose. “that was so awesome.”
and just like that, the mood’s ruined—you pant, he’s hovering over you, his weight barely on you before you sigh.
“you know,” you change the subject, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “your moans, you sound more like a girl than me, ‘s kinda hot.”
“whaaat?” he grumbles, his sweetened pout forever returning. “that’s not nice, ‘n besides if it’s anyone who moans louder it’s you, angel.”
you kiss near the twitching corner of his lip, watching his sudden attitude shift like a light switch and he’s now a puddle. “you finished a bit early though,” and with your arms wrapping around him again, you speak in a soft voice. “wanna go again? you’re a natural, ‘toru.”
“please,” he whines with a nod, feeling how sweltering hot it felt to be still buried into the comforting tightness of your cunt. “this time, i wanna try doggy.”
“okay, pretty boy,” you tease, leaning in for another one of gojo’s sloppy, need kisses. just before he could pull out, the door springs open. the hinges scream once it pulls back and the two of you both look to see what the racket was.
as the door opens, it was geto—gojo’s best friend, and he had the most disgusted look on his face.
with a scrunched up face, he utters. “i’m never running errands for you two again, what the actual fuck.”
and as he turns his heel to leave, gojo snorts. “suguboooo! aw, don’t leave just yet. you can always joinnn.”
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sleepiexx · 6 days
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more james x reader PLSSS so good.
maybe even james x fem Slytherin reader
<3
Concussions ‘n Confessions
James Potter x fem!Slytherin Reader
Note: no Voldemort au so you’re besties with the skittles :)
Summary: James quickly realizes his feelings for you— shortly after you’re struck directly in the head with a bludger.
Warnings: Barty beats someone up, mild swearing, corny “hurt her and you die,” line lol
Word count: 2914
Were it any other chaser from any other team, James would have been jumping for joy that a bludger he’d dodged had flew straight past him, nailing an offending chaser right in the head and leaving a rival quidditch team down one player. Hell, it was Slytherin who was down one, bloody Slytherin! But James couldn’t bring himself to be happy, not when that ‘offending chaser’ was none other than poor, sweet you.
You and James met at precisely six o’clock in the morning on the first day of your sixth year, you just tried out and made the Slytherin team after finally succumbing to years of your friends begging you to join and put your flying skills to good use. Despite your initial hesitance towards the sport, you were on the team now, and with your overachieving nature, you had no choice but to practice hard and impress at your first game.
James was on the pitch at that time because he always was. No one else came at six in the morning, so he had the entire arena to himself to practice flying and shooting the quaffle. That was, of course, until the day you came along.
He’d groaned internally when he spotted a green robe in the sky, the last thing he wanted was to have to fight with a Slytherin over the use of the quidditch pitch when all he wanted to do was practice. He mounted his broom and flew towards the figure.
“Hey!” He yelled, startling you. You turned around with a shocked face but smiled once you realized it was just another student come to practice. “How long are you planning on using the pitch?” He asked, a little off-put by the smile you still had on your face despite his red and gold garb.
“I’m planning on staying till lunch, but there’s an extra quaffle down there so we can share the pitch if you’re up for it!”
James had to physically stop his jaw from dropping. You were so nice. What about house rivalry? What happened to the sentiment that all Slytherins were evil?
Maybe you just wanted to watch him practice to steal Gryffindor strategies. Yeah, that was it. No other possible way, Slytherin found out that James Potter practices early and sent out pretty little you to gather information. They had to have known a girl with a face as sweet as yours and an attitude to match was his ultimate weakness.
Regardless, he came out here to practice. He flew down to where you had pointed, where there was, in fact, an extra quaffle. Slytherin had prepared well.
He supposed pace would need to be the main focus of his practice today, you couldn’t watch his strategies if he was moving too fast for you to see. So he whizzed around on his broomstick, shooting goal after goal, curiously looking over his shoulder every once in a while. To his surprise, your focus remained on your own goal post. He sat mesmerized, watching you rehearse.
You weren’t bad, having a talent for the sport that James could tell was natural. You were new, that was clear, not just because James hadn’t seen you on the Slytherin team before, but also because of your lack of confidence. You were hesitating, and if you could just get past that barrier, he knew you would do great.
Screw it. What’s the harm in helping your rival team? If they’re not any good then there’s no glory in beating them at all.
Before he knew it, James found himself flying towards you, stopping a short distance behind you.
“What’s your name?” He asked, half expecting you to startle, as you had before.
You turned your broom gracefully this time, “I’m y/n l/n, you?”
“James Potter. You’re new to the team?”
“You could tell?” Your shoulders sunk, a frustrated pout made its way to your lips.
James' heart dropped, he hadn’t meant to call you out, “no, no it’s not like that. It’s just, well I’m Gryffindor’s captain so I know everyone on every team and I haven’t seen you before.”
You half believed him, still feeling a little insecure but nodding regardless, “yeah, I uhm, haven’t played since I was a kid but I like flying so my friends kinda peer pressured me into joining. I’m trying really hard not to let them down.”
James scoffed, “from what I’ve seen, I doubt you could let them down. But I could give you a pointer or two if you’d like.”
“Would you?”
He nodded in response and you smiled wide.
So began James Potter’s mentorship over you. He’d helped you and even practiced alongside you most mornings. The day of your first game, James was in the stands cheering you on. He had never watched a school quidditch game from the stands, but he found himself giddy watching you absolutely destroy Ravenclaw.
For the first time in his life, he cheered for Slytherin at every game— save for his own against you. Even those, he found, were rather enjoyable because the conclusion he’d originally come to was right, having a harder opponent is much more fun. The stakes were higher and James loved a good thrill.
He loved this arrangement, and he was having so much fun playing against you. Right up until the moment he dodged that stupid bloody bludger that Avery sent hurtling towards him, the lack of interruption leaving it right in the course of your head.
The crack of the ball hitting your head followed by the thud of you falling to the ground was deafening. He sprung into action instantly, shooting towards you and assessing your injuries. You were still half conscious, blinking up at him in pain.
“James?” You asked, voice strained.
“I’m here, love, I’m here. Madam Pomfrey will be here any moment to fix you up.” He held your hand, knowing how badly your head must hurt from taking one of Avery’s notoriously hard bludgers and then free falling from high enough in the sky that muggle medicine likely couldn’t fix the damage to. The whole school was lucky they weren’t resigned to muggle medicine, for Madame Pomfrey’s skills surpassed them leaps and bounds. “Squeeze my hand.”
And you did, a weak grasp that felt so strong to you. James panicked as it loosened even more and your eyes fluttered shut. Madame Pomfrey and some other professors came around with a stretcher, taking you away and leaving James pale in the face. That was the last he had seen of you in a while.
James had tried, on numerous occasions, to visit you in the infirmary with flowers, but he soon found out that your bubbly personality had earned you many friends— many overprotective and scary friends, to specify. Each time he was met with a different one of your Slytherin friends guarding the door as though you had an army of enemies on their way to get you. More realistically, they kept the noise in the hallway down. Protecting you not from armies, but from boisterous students whose loud noise would only worsen your ongoing headaches.
Many first years found out first hand how dedicated they were to protecting the peace, being hexed green after multiple warnings to quiet down. James couldn’t blame them, of course, he would likely do the same were you his to claim, alas, he’d yet to confess his recently realized love for you.
This meant that to your friends, he was nothing more than a threat to the silence you needed. So every time he visited, he was immediately shot down and threatened until he would eventually leave.
He thought he would outsmart your friends, sneak to the infirmary well after visiting hours, hidden under his invisibility cloak. Still, your prefect friend Evan Rosier was sat up against the door, asleep but propped up in a way that anyone entering the room would have to wake him before doing so. Dejected, James turned around and marched back to his dorm room.
The next evening as Remus and Lily rested on the common room couch, quietly reading next to one another whilst Peter laid on the floor, James barged into the common room and disrupted their peace.
James’ eyes met Remus’s and he instantly set his course toward the brunette, stepping over their other friend in the process. “Where is Sirius?” He demanded.
Remus scoffed, “what, no hello? How are you?”
“Or an ‘excuse me Wormtail’?” Peter chimed in.
James shook his head, “no, there’s no time, where is Sirius?”
Remus saw no point in arguing, sighing, “I believe he’s upstairs, combing his hair 152 times on either side.”
James had darted away the moment Remus said Sirius was upstairs, missing the joke and making Remus sigh once more.
“I thought the joke was funny.” Peter comforted.
“Thanks Wormy.”
Much akin to his grand entrance in the common room, James slammed the door to their dorm open. “Padfoot!” He exclaimed.
Sirius, who was seated on the floor— in fact brushing his hair— smiled and turned to his curly headed friend, “what is it you need my dear Prongsy?”
James only met his enthusiasm with desperation. He fell to his knees and placed his palms on either of Sirius’s shoulders, “Regulus is guarding the infirmary right now, you have to convince him to let me in.”
Sirius tried to talk but James cut him off, “Please, mate, I really need to see her and this is my one chance seeing as your brother is guarding her rather than the usual blokes who don’t care at all about my rapport with y/n. We could actually convince him! And before you say no, I’m prepared to do all your charms homework for the next two weeks, just do this one thing for me please, I beg.”
Sirius cracked a grin as James shook his shoulders, “I was going to say yes from the moment you asked, but now that I know there’s charms homework involved, I’ll hold you to it.”
James matched his expression, springing to his feet, pulling Sirius with him. “Alright, I have no idea how long he’ll be the one there so we have to hurry.”
Sirius nodded and they scurried down past the common room, through the portrait hole, and down the halls towards the infirmary.
They stopped at the turn to the infirmary, peeking around the corner to scope it out. Regulus was still there, conjuring silent illusions of rabbits hopping down the hall to fight his readily apparent boredom.
Sirius turned to James, “alright, here’s what’s going to happen: I don’t know for sure if I can convince good ol’ Reggie to let you in, but I do know that I can distract him, so while I do that, you’re going to conjure up some flowers, and when the coast looks clear you are going to rush on in there and you are going to charm the socks off this girl with your devilishly good looks and amazing personality and then you will ask her to be your girlfriend like you’ve always wanted. Got that?”
James nodded solemnly, so Sirius turned and walked casually over to his little brother. The last thing James heard was a “hello sweet, sweet brother of mine” before he focused on getting himself ready.
He conjured some flowers as Sirius had suggested; daisies, he remembered to be your favorite. As the sound of Sirius and Regulus faded down the hall, James took it as his chance to make his break towards you.
Even in the dimmed infirmary, dazed and sore, in a concussed state, you still managed to make James Potter stumble. He forgot where he was and what he was doing the moment your beautiful eyes met his.
“James?” You called out, breaking the boy out of his trance.
“Oh, yes. Hi.” He smiled and waved.
You smiled back, glancing at the flowers in his hands. The action reminded him very suddenly of the task at hand. He rushed to your bedside and held them out toward you, “these are for you.”
You took them, leaning down and smelling the sweet scent. “Thank you, daisies are-”
“Your favorite,” James interjected, “I remember, I knew I couldn’t give you any less than the best since you’re in here because of me.”
You scoffed, “you didn’t put me here.”
He shook his head, “had I not dodged that bludger, you would be fine.”
“I’d say that I don’t blame you but I know you’d just think I was being nice so let me explain it like this: if anyone believed that it was your fault I got hurt, Barty would’ve beaten the shit out of you instead of Avery.”
James’ eyes widened, “that’s what happened to him? Bloody hell, I thought a stray badger had wandered into the castle and attacked him the way he looks.”
“That bad?” You asked, “I only saw Barty’s bloody knuckles from the aftermath, now I’m not so sure that was entirely his blood.”
The two of you laughed softly, smiling when you caught each other’s eyes.
“The flowers aren’t the only reason I’m in here, though.” James said, brushing some hair out of your face.
“Oh?” You prompted him to continue.
He’s clear with his words, “I’ve had this thing for you for a while now, I just haven’t known it. I suppose watching you get hurt like that made me come to that realization, and now that I know, I can’t stand the idea that you don’t know so I guess this is me confessing.”
“You’re into me?” You asked.
James nodded.
Your lips quirked up into a large grin, “holy shit, I should get hit in the head more often this is the best news,” you quietly exclaimed.
James’ expression mirrored your own, “so you feel the same?”
You nodded.
“Well, then I’d like to take you out. And to be your boyfriend, if you’d let me.”
You nodded once more, “I would.”
Everything felt right, you’d both finally aired out your feelings, and you were still all alone in the room so what else would you do but begin leaning in. Your lips nearly touched before the door to the infirmary burst open, James’ long haired friend running towards the both of you in desperation.
“Help me, you have to help me!” He called out.
You winced at the noise, turning to look at James to see if he knew what was going on, he was just as clueless. That is until one Mister Barty Crouch Junior came in, wand raised and ready for use.
“I’ll show you to distract our lookout!” He screamed, a murderous look in his eyes.
Your head throbbed.
Regulus sauntered in soon after, seemingly unbothered. You looked at him confusedly but he merely shrugged.
“Barty.” You said, trying and failing to get his attention as he continued to chase Sirius around the room, “Barty!”
He turned to you.
“Please don’t make me raise my voice again, it hurts.” You whined.
Barty’s face dropped, a guilty look overtaking him.
With that out of the way, you spoke again, “I think Sirius was just trying to help Jamie bring me some flowers.”
“Jamie?” Barty murmured, looking to Regulus to find that he was just as confused.
You wince as you hear Barty’s heavy boots stomping towards you. “Oh dear,” you mutter, “he’s, uhm-“ you try to explain, but you were cut off.
“Your boyfriend?” It’s Regulus who asks, voice impossibly quiet.
You would nod, but moving your head feels like a hazard so you psych yourself up just to say “yeah.”
Barty’s eyes burn with an anger you’ve seen before many times, of all of your overprotective friends, Barty is the worst. It couldn’t possibly help that James is a Gryffindor, not when Barty believes in house rivalry like it’s the Bible.
Barty grabs James by the collar, “I do not like this, nor do I condone it, however, y/n makes her own decisions and I cannot make them for her— regardless of whether or not they are stupid decisions. That being said, you hurt her and you will find your face in worse condition than a bloody troll, understand me?”
James nodded and Barty released his collar, straightening it up, and huffing off elsewhere, taking Regulus with him. Sirius follows suit, if only to give the two of you some much needed privacy.
“Salazar, I thought he was going to kill you,” you breathed out, finally exhaling the breath you were holding the entire time.
James chuckles, taking hold of your hand once more, “just to be clear, love, I would treat you right regardless of there being a threat in place.”
“Well that’s good to hear because you have such a handsome face, I couldn’t bear seeing it bloodied up.” You raised your hand to caress his cheek in emphasis.
An impulsive thought led you to ignore the pounding in your head that came with quick movements, taking your chance to touch your lips to his. You were glad that your friends had left, because the kiss was so nice, you didn’t want it to end. You knew their childish groans would ruin it. But with no interruption, you stayed in the moment for what felt like forever, allowing yourself to bask in the simple joy that was the captain of your rival quidditch team’s lips against your own.
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hannieehaee · 8 months
Note
Svt reaction to loud high pitched porno moans from them fucking you so good
18+ / mdi
reaction to your pornographic moans
content: smut, established relationship implied, penetrative sex mentioned, etc.
wc: 1059
a/n: i received two different asks with very similar requests but i still wanted to make them separate so if u guys see me posting a rlly similar reaction just know its that hehe
masterlist
seungcheol -
as much as he wanted to pretend like you didn't have such a knee-buckling effect on him, he would have to stop for a second to gather himself as you let out the first of many pornographic moans at the way he was fucking into you. he'd wanna be cocky about it, but would be interrupted by yet another moan that had him losing his breath. would be fighting against himself the whole time to not cum immediately.
jeonghan -
yet another member who would wanna be cocky but would be unable to. your moans would be like a siren's song to him, making him stop his actions and groan out in complaint, telling you you were cheating. you were clearly trying to get him to cum embarrassingly fast by moaning so prettily! despite that, he'd still be unable to control his body's reaction to your sounds, making him speed up as his own voice became high pitched and he came earlier than usual.
joshua -
he'd be extremely turned on, but would keep that to himself as he kept fucking into you. at some point he'd begin mocking your moans, knowing there was just no way for you to keep quiet while he was making you feel this good. would become obsessed with your sounds, doing everything in his power to get you to keep moaning like that for him.
jun -
he'd have to beg you to please stop or he would blow his load way too early to give you the amount of pleasure you deserved. his own moans would get so whiny and high pitched at just the way you sounded, making the two of you create way too much noise to not be overheard by bystanders. jun wouldn't have the ability to care, though, simply doing everything in his power to keep you moaning for him (despite his prior pleas for you to stop).
soonyoung -
all thoughts would leave his head as soon as you let out the first of many wails of his name. would beg you to please keep making those sounds. he would be super communicative (to a fault) of how much your sounds were turning him on, telling you that he was gonna blow his load at just the sound of your voice, but promising to go round after round after round if you promised to keep mewling like that for him.
wonwoo -
a bit surprised but not completely. you being loud was not news for him, however, the way in which you were quite literally mewling his name (along with nonsensical babbles) would have him speeding up as he fucked into you, coaxing more and more sounds out of you. he would groan at the way you felt around him while also breathing out words of encouragement, letting you know how thoroughly he was enjoying your sounds of pleasure.
jihoon -
for him? you were moaning so prettily for him? he'd need to take a breather, halting his hips against you as he tried to calm himself down. his ears (and everything else of his) would be crimson red while his head would be full of air, unable to even breathe properly. you'd have to beg him to please keep fucking you again, to which he would respond with his own plea to please not cry for him like that, knowing there was no way for him to last if you mewled his name like that again. however, this plea would thankfully fall on deaf ears as he continued to relish in your wails.
seokmin -
the moment he heard you moan like that, some animalistic side of him would take over, making him cant his hips into you like an animal. he would bury his face either in your back or neck (depending on your current position), groaning against you to beg you to please keep making those pretty sounds for him and praising you on how amazing you were making him feel. would wonder to himself if you were some type of siren, not understanding how you were able to get him like this so easily.
mingyu -
would stop and groan so fucking loudly at how enticing you sounded, telling you that there was no way for him to keep going when you were playing so unfairly. he'd need a minute to calm himself down, eventually beginning to fuck you again and begging you to please make those sounds for him again, going faster and harder every time you let out yet another pitchy moan of his name.
minghao -
he'd be so mesmerized by you, feeling an immense sense of pride at knowing he was the only person who could pull such sounds out of you. would pull at all stops to get you to be even louder for him, whispering in your ear to encourage you to be even louder for him, praising your pretty voice as he enticed you into whining his name over and over again.
seungkwan -
super flustered. you were being so loud, but you sounded so fucking good. his brain would be battling between being flustered and being horny, with the horniness easily overpowering. he'd know that he would cum embarrassingly fast due to the effect your pornographic moans had on him, but he wouldn't dare stop fucking into you out of fear that he'd stop doing whatever he was doing to get you to sound so pretty for him.
vernon -
it would take him a moment to process what was going on. where you making those sounds because of him? was it that good? fuck yeah. he would just quietly relish in the sounds you were making, getting more and more turned on by how good you sounded, causing him to fuck into you harder as he tried to muffle his own groans to hear you as much as possible.
chan -
just short-circuiting. he couldnt believe that he canting of his hips against you could get you to make such sounds. he'd gasp and groan and moan at your shameless wails, willing himself to last so that he could savor your sounds until bringing you to orgasm. would press his face into your neck as he fucked into you maniacally, begging you to please keep making those sounds for him, that he would do anything you wanted, just please keep crying for him like that.
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punkshort · 9 months
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part three
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant
WC: 12.4K
A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.
Series Masterlist
He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.
So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.
But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.
That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.
"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.
"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."
He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.
"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.
"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.
"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"
Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.
"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."
He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.
"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.
"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.
He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.
His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.
"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.
"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."
"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.
"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"
"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.
You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.
"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.
His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.
"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.
You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.
"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.
"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.
You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.
Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.
Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta
Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut
You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.
"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.
"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.
"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.
"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.
"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.
"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.
"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.
"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.
"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.
He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.
But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.
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"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"
He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.
"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.
"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.
"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.
"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"
"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.
You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.
Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?
He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.
"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.
"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.
"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.
"Should be fun," you said.
"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.
"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.
"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"
"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.
"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.
"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.
"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.
"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"
Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.
"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.
"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.
"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.
"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.
"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."
Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.
"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"
"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."
"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.
"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."
"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.
"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.
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Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.
You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.
After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.
Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.
You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.
You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.
You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?
You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.
Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??
You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.
Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess
Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.
Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.
Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.
Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.
You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap
With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.
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You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.
Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.
Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.
"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.
"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.
"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.
"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.
"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.
Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."
Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.
"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.
"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.
You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.
Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.
"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.
"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.
"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.
"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.
"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.
"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.
"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.
"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.
"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.
"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.
"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.
"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.
"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.
"Do you love her?"
Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.
"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.
"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.
"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.
"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.
He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.
"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.
Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.
"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.
"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."
You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.
He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.
Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.
"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.
A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.
"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.
"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"
"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."
"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.
"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.
"You heard her," he said with a grin.
"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.
"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.
"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.
"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.
But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.
"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"
"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.
"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.
"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.
You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.
Joel Miller: Miss you already.
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"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.
"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.
When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.
"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"
You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.
"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.
"What?"
"Did you hear what I said?"
"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"
"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."
"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."
You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.
"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."
"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.
"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.
"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.
"These are in Austin," you said slowly.
"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."
"Cas-"
"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"
"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.
"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"
"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.
"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.
"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.
"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.
"What?"
"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.
You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.
"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."
"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."
"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"
"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.
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When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.
"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.
"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.
"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.
"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.
"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.
"I heard about that, might be a lot."
"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"
The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.
"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.
When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.
"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.
Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.
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"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.
"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.
"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."
"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.
"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.
"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.
You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.
"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.
"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.
He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.
"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."
"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."
After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.
Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.
"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.
"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.
"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.
"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?
"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.
"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.
"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.
"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.
You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.
Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.
You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.
"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.
You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.
He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.
"It's not a big deal, just-"
"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.
"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."
"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."
You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.
"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.
"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.
"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.
"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
"We're going to New York City?!"
"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."
You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.
"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.
"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"
He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.
"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're welcome," you said with a smile.
He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.
After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.
When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.
The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.
"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.
"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.
"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.
Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.
The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.
When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.
"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.
"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."
He nodded and took a shaky breath in.
He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.
"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.
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Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.
"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.
"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"
"Yep," was all Joel said in response.
"What time's her flight?"
"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.
"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."
"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.
"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.
"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.
"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.
"Yeah, but-"
"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."
"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.
"Get goin'."
Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.
Joel Miller: You awake?
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He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.
You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.
"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.
"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.
"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.
"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.
He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.
"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.
"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.
"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.
"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.
"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.
"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.
"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.
"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."
He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.
You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.
So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.
You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.
He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.
"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.
"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.
"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.
He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.
"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.
"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.
He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.
"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.
God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.
"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.
"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.
You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.
He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.
You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.
"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.
"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.
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You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.
"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.
"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.
"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"
"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.
"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.
You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.
"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.
You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.
"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.
"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"
"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"
"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.
She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.
You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.
"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.
"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.
"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.
Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.
He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.
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The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.
"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.
"What?"
"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.
"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.
Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.
"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.
"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."
"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."
Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.
"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.
"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."
"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.
"'Course I didn't ask her-"
"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.
"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.
"Did you tell her that you love her?"
Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.
"How did-"
"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.
"Go get her, Dad."
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Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.
He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.
"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.
"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"
"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.
"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."
"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"
"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.
"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.
"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."
"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.
"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.
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He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.
He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.
What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -
"Joel?"
He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.
"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.
"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.
"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.
"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."
He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.
"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.
You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."
"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."
Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.
"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.
As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.
He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.
And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.
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ramonathinks · 9 months
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Did I Do Good? / Nanami Kento
tags/warnings: (18+), age gap (reader is 22 + nanami is 32), infidelity, smut, blowjob, pet names (little lady, baby) daddy kink, mention of wife, bimbofication, reader used to be stripper/sex worker, black-coded reader
“Kento Nanami, you lucky bastard.” His co-worker slapped a hand on his shoulder much to his surprise. “Please tell me she’s got a sister…” He couldn’t remember the guy’s name but he knew he was hating the way he was eyeing you. The guy was swaying and slurring his words, licking his lips.
He wasn’t even this protective of his wife. He internally cringed at the thought.
None of his colleagues brought along anyone, using this business trip as an escape. He brought you. But in a way you were his escape, an escape from it all.
He just brushed off the comment but really it was hard to do especially since your arrival and what you were wearing:
A frilly hot pink skirt that hugged your hips and that was a tad bit short and constantly raising paired with a very tight light pink corset that made your breast look ever larger than they were. Even the high boots you were wearing that made everyone look at how long your legs were was making him uncomfortable. You even decided to get your hair done in a new style: long black pin curls that flowed heavenly down your shoulders. He watched multiple men wave at you and talk to you while you giggled and typed on your phone.
He didn’t want anyone staring at you.
He wanted to lock you up in the room. But he knew that was too much, this trip was all you’d been talking about for the past month since he causally mentioned it in passing.
“Kenny baby are you serious? We’re going to New York?” Your voice was so high pitched and happy even though he wasn’t planning on bringing you at first.
It was a business trip. With you around he barely got any work done. He’d find a way to have you milking his cock with that pretty pussy even if you’d only just woke up instead of scheduling his meetings, attending his meetings or anything.
“Yeah baby,” He watched your eyes light up in such delight and with a squeal you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But this is an important business trip for me, so I might not be around as much as you like… but I’ll give you your favorite card of mine to have fun with, you’d like that yeah?”
You pouted a bit, “I mean sure but I’ll be so sad without you,”
“I’ll try to get out of all my meetings a bit early so that I can at least make it to one of your fashion shows after your shopping spree, yeah?”
You pulled back to smile at him and nodded before kissing him all over. “Okay Ken.”
It was warm and he knew you dressed appropriately but fuck he didn’t like how everyone was looking at you like a piece of meat. Even he was.
You skipped slightly back towards him with the keycard in hand. “Penthouse suite…ooh, you’re spoiling me, Ken.” You told him, biting your lip. He knew what that meant. He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him.
“Well, I’m going now.” He quickly told his coworkers and dragged you to the elevator.
“Ken! You’re so rude!” You playfully glared at him. You turned back to his coworkers and waved, “Bye, see you boys soon.”
He could practically hear them swooning and didn’t bother to look back as he heard them saying your name and “goodbye”.
When the elevator door finally opened, he hurried to step inside interrupting your waving.
“You like making me jealous?” His eyes were intense as he stared down at you. He quirked a brow, “You think it’s cute? Funny?”
“Kento, you’re being too serious.” You whine a bit, trying to look away from his narrowed and intense eyes.
“Of course I’m being serious, you’re being flirty with everyone here, how do you think that makes me feel?”
A deep sigh is released from you and it’s the most frustrated he’s ever seen you. “You know they think I’m your wife…”
“Is that so wrong? You know what you mean to me. You know how important you are.” He cups your face and makes you look at him.
“When am I gonna be your wife?” Your eyes bore into his. You had only been dating a year and some months but you already saw a future with him and you wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.
His eyes softened but the elevator doors opened up before he could answer and you slipped out of his grasp. “You know how complicated that is. But I promised you remember? I have always kept my promises with you, little lady.”
He had always kept them. He took care of you, moved you into his place, even turned his office into your own personal walk in closet. He gave you things that you could only dream of.
But that wasn’t all. He gave you much support in anything, helping you with any assignments even when he had work bright and early. He was always there, he was a big comfort to you and it was easy to fall in love with him.
You almost wanted to kill his bitch wife. When you met him he was nothing but depression in human form. It’s only now that his eyes aren’t so clouded and that his smiles are real.
You inhaled deeply and shook off all your bad mood. “You’re right. You’re mines as I am yours, that’s all that matters.”
He did a small grin before he took you into his arms and hugged you tightly like he hadn’t seen you all day. “You’re too good for me you know that?”
It was something he almost always told you. But really it was the opposite. He made your world so much brighter than it had ever been. You truly felt at peace with him and didn’t have to worry about anything at all.
You wanted to him.
“I wanna suck your dick.”
His expression fell almost too quickly. “No, baby.” He chuckled. “But we can make love for the rest of the day and then maybe my coworkers will finally realize that I’m being nice enough to let them meet you but even nicer to hear those pretty little moans of yours all night.”
You did a shy small but rolled your eyes. He never let you give him a blowjob and with a dick like his it was criminal. Your mouth was watering just thinking about having his cum in your mouth but it probably would never happen.
It was the one thing you hated about him. He never came in your mouth, on your face or really anywhere. He didn’t want to defile you. He liked how pure you looked. Even though he seen you in your absolute filthiest.
“Please, daddy.” You touched him through his pants and he twitched. You didn’t call him daddy often but whenever you did, it was even harder for him to say no to you. “I just wanna a taste of your cum on my tongue.”
Maybe this was how you ended up with the bruised knees from being on the floor as you wrapped your sweet lips on him.
His cock was very pretty. A bit dark with a slight pink tip, very thick and long. His hair trimmed and clean, you were throbbing just from looking. You placed small kisses to his head before you did small licks all over him. With a moan you took him deep in your mouth.
His toes curled and he did his best not to grab your hair. There was some much slurping coming from your very wet mouth that he couldn’t bear himself to look at you. But when he finally decided to look, he couldn’t look away.
“You look so good on your knees.” His voice was completely wrecked and his eyes were burning inside of yours. His eyes narrowed when your hands squeezed at his balls before taking more of his hard weeping cock into your mouth.
He could feel your tongue tracing every vein and it was getting harder to stay quiet. Hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him, feeling hot all over your body.
Swirling your eager tongue over his slit, “Just… just like that, you’re doing so good.” He was whimpering but still managed to give you enough praises to last a lifetime.
He jumped when you touched his hand and put it in your hair. “I-I can’t…” He could barely contain himself now. He didn’t want to hurt you.
You sucked harder, bobbing your head before he finally took over. He was harsh. Very rough. Between his hips thrusting into your mouth, his tight grip on your hair forced you to stay in place.
He was using you and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it. Saliva dropped from your mouth and down your chin but you didn’t mind. You took him out of your mouth for a second.
“I want to be covered in you Ken, please? Cum all over me.” You knew he was close, could feel him throbbing and pulsing in your mouth. He muttered a small fuck when he heard you say that. He couldn’t believe just how nasty you were, wanting him to come all over you.
But he did want to see it. He wanted to see that you belonged to him. To see himself all over you. He stood up, standing over you and with his big hands he rubbed himself in front of your face.
It was erotic, the way he stared at you with such dark lust. Moving his hand up and down, slick coating his hand and wet noises all over the room. He swallowed before he let out a long and loud groan and finally came.
White warmth painted itself all over your tongue and some over your face. You swallowed, letting every bit of him flow down your throat.
“Did I do good, Kento?” His cock was still hard as he stared at you, his face reddened. He didn’t want to let you know just how much he enjoyed that.
“I’m going to make you my wife as soon as fucking possible.”
You smiled, cum still stained on your face. But you couldn’t have been any cuter.
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