#first time staying up this late in ages and it has to be on a fucking school night

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

[ryuluvr]

echoes of rain and love.

(wlw fem!reader x jinx, sfw)

tags: pure fluff, established friendship and mutual crush, jinx follows you around without your knowledge, silco is alive, quick mentions of weapons + bombs, shimmer!jinx, arcane!jinx (18+ age)

notes: honestly this is just self-indulgent bc i love jinx so much. it's short n sweet, sorry!

wc: 1.2k

the moon replaced the sun in the sky as the streets became more busy, people flooding in and out of the multiple bars, clubs and brothels around. you thought to call it a day, keeping only one dim lamp on in your bedroom before throwing yourself down on your double bed. it always felt more lonely at night.

with your head gently placed on your pillow, a deep sigh escaped your lips, fluttering your eyes shut after a few moments. you had no real intention of sleeping yet since you were dying to continue a book you started the previous morning, but exhaustion got the better of you, allowing you to slowly doze off on top of the covers.

close to half an hour passed before a loud crash followed by the sound of items falling to the floor woke you up from your sleep. you sat up as fast as you could, heart pounding hard in your chest as you scanned the room. your gaze moved from your books scattered across the floor to jinx standing by the window, but it took you a few seconds to realise she wasn't on the outside of it.

"look, don't be mad.." jinx began, her voice almost as low as a whisper, holding up her hands in defence while a grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "i just wanted some company. sevika's out working, and i was lonely."

you exhaled as you shook your head in disbelief, begging your heart rate to decrease as soon as possible.

"i'm flattered i'm your second option." you couldn't help but smile. this wasn't the first time your friend broke into your apartment just to see you, you just wished she would let you know beforehand and enter like anyone else would, through the front door.

you ran your slender fingers through your hair, watching closely as jinx tiptoed around the belongings she knocked over on her way in, approaching your bed with a slight pout.

"aw, come on. you know you're my first, really." her tone was playful but it was clear she meant every word. you're constantly shocked at how she can have so much energy quite literally twenty four hours of the day. jinx plopped herself on your bed, causing you both to bounce a little, eliciting a tired groan from you.

"sooo, whatcha been up to?" jinx sat crossed legged opposite you, her attention entirely on you and your answer. you had to take a few moments to think, not that you did much in the day.

"work." you rolled your eyes while tucking some strands of hair behind both ears, soon noticing the way your lamp flickered to your side. "it feels like that's all i do lately. i'm exhausted."

jinx tilted her head to one side in curiosity and you saw her pick at her own nail polish, leaving every single nail chipped. she can never stay still, no matter what.

"so why don't you quit?" jinx's question caused you to lightly laugh, assuming it was unworthy of an answer. silco has covered everything for jinx since the day he took her into his care. money hasn't been a problem for her for a while now and she currently has a guaranteed place to live. she's not entitled or even ungrateful by any means, she just has no reason to handle currency anymore.

after pushing yourself back up against the headboard of the bed, you trailed your eyes back up to jinx's face, noticing and loving the way her pink eyes shimmered in the dark room. her braids laid neatly across her lap; you couldn't help but wonder what she would look like with her hair completely down. you imagined yourself running a brush or even your own fingers through her hair, listening to jinx hum her favourite song.

"you still making those little chompers?" you asked curiously, jinx's face instantly lighting up.

"you bet! the one i'm currently working on is gonna be even bigger and better than the last! i'm thinking of testing it on some pesky enforcers once it's done." her excitement plastered a smile onto your face, giggling at her enthusiasm. sometimes you wished she would invite you to her weapon testings, but you knew she didn't purely for your own safety. hurting you in any way would absolutely destroy her.

"then, you'll have to let me know how it goes. just maybe not at one in the morning, okay?" truth is, deep down you wouldn't get angry at her even if she came to you at five.

your friend leaned forward to mess up your hair, chuckling to herself soon after. "i wouldn't count on it." her gaze quickly landed on your window due to the raindrops gliding down the glass, the sound of thunder indicating a storm was quickly approaching.

the weather was enough to make you rush out of bed and head for your wardrobe, taking ahold of some comfy pyjama shorts alongside a black oversized t-shirt, throwing them onto jinx's lap.

"you're not going out in that. i know what you're thinking." you frowned as you spoke to her, your voice full of concern and care. the other girl parted her lips to protest but you cut her off instantly. "you can stay here tonight, if you'd like."

jinx glanced down at your clothes, suddenly in her own world while she ran her fingers across the soft materials. eventually she nodded, unexpectedly giving in with a grin.

"more time with you? don't have to tell me twice." her sweet giggles filled the room, feeling your own heart swell with adoration. you turned your back to her, letting her change into your clothes in peace.

the rain continued to hammer down outside, wind howling too. once jinx stated she was done, you turned on your heel to face her, deciding to fold her clothes up for her before gesturing towards your empty bed. you thought it would take a miracle for her to settle down considering her hyper nature, but to your surprise she slid under the covers and let out a soft sigh. you've never seen her so peaceful or still before, and you weren't sure you'd ever see her this way again.

you followed suit, scooting in bed beside her and pulling the duvet further up to reach your shoulders in an attempt to warm yourself up.

without any warning jinx rolled from her back onto her side to face you, your eyes widening with surprise when you noticed her face was merely centimetres away from yours. blood rose slightly in your cheeks, unable to find any words to speak.

jinx's pink eyes remained glued to yours, and her sweet smile never faded. something about this moment was just so beautiful and you felt like there was nothing you wouldn't do to freeze time. the room was quiet, except for the distant thunder rolling in waves. you took your hand and pushed some strands of hair out of jinx’s face, your touch slow and soothing, as if trying to match the rhythm of your deepening breaths.

the soft crackle of lightning illuminated the room for a brief second, casting fleeting shadows over both of your faces. you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to jinx’s nose, then another to her forehead, your lips lingering just for a moment. a bigger smile curled on the other girls lips, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. you both nestled closer, your legs tangling beneath the covers, comforted by each other's presence. eventually, your eyes drifted shut, and you surrendered to sleep, wondering if jinx will still be beside you in the morning.

[axolozzy]

ya’ll it’s almost 5am i’m wide awake and I HAVE SCHOOL TOMORROWWW (TODAY??? IN A FEW HOURS.)

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞

✧ pairing: rich boy! gojo x bodyguard! reader

✧ summary: after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is around the same age as gojo (both in their 20s but age is vague), virgin! gojo, switch! gojo, oral (f + m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), depictions of violence, mentions of yakuza, dirty business dealings, gojo's made up dad and suguru make an appearance

✧ wc: 15,311 (i don't know what to say at this point)

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 1 has been sold to @forest-hashira and two anons!

“So, is this your first time?”

Satoru Gojo would be the end of you — one way or another. 

One way would be you sacrificing your life to protect him — fairly run of the mill when it came to guarding someone, the risk of putting your life on the line, though the chance of death usually was fairly slim. You had only come close — twice. 

You didn’t care to make it a third. 

The other, increasingly more likely, way was that you would lose your mind to his incessant yammering before you even had a chance to neutralize any threat to his life. 

You nearly spit out your drink at the question, wiping your mouth with a napkin, before managin to choke it down, “Excuse me?” 

And his lips annoyingly curl, “Your first time guarding someone,” 

The heir seemed fairly nonchalant, even after his father had sat the both of you down in a room filled with more security agents than the prime minister of Japan himself had, and had lectured him about the importance of staying with you the entire time and to respect your authority — well one out of two wasn’t bad. He’s eating a piece of cake instead of a meal, his fork digging into the back of the cake again and again, toying with his food as he did with you, “I mean, you seem fairly young, but old enough to be entrusted with my safety,” 

“Well, since you insisted on going to school, your father needed someone unassuming who looked around your age,” you lean against your hand, your other drumming against the table, as your eyes scanned the area — table of frat boys, group of girls sneaking glances at Gojo, various other students, no real threats — unless you counted the girls’ death daggers towards you, “someone who wouldn’t look out of place with you, raise any suspicions, but who could still protect you,” 

His lips curl, as your eyes find their way back to the young heir, “So basically, you had to look like my girlfriend — shouldn’t I hold your hand? Sell the act? All in the name of my safety,” 

You jerk your head towards his group of admirers, “I think what we’re doing now is plenty — unless you’d like your guard to get mauled by a bunch of hormonal college girls,” 

His eyes slid to his adoring fans, as he pities them with a wave, erupting squeals from them, “I think you could take them,”

“How flattering,” you reply drily, picking at the food in front of you, “now finish your lunch so we can get to our next class on time,” 

“Are you still upset that we were late this morning?” 

“No, I’m upset that we missed half the class and I had to take the fall for it,” the heir had oh so kindly told the professor that you had made them run late (even though he was the one who spent far too long in the bathroom). 

And even though you wouldn’t be attending this school for long, you hoped that you wouldn’t have to make yourself look like a fool the entire time you were here — but — your eyes found Gojo’s again — sticking with Satoru Gojo almost made that a guarantee that you would look like a fool — one way or another. 

And you were already the fool — for thinking that a college aged boy would have any real food in his refrigerator. Although, Satoru Gojo was a different breed — instead of alcohol and questionable containers of takeout, there was...sweets. 

So. Many. Sweets.

Not just cookies and candy — but literally six different kinds of mochi (for some reason?) and almost any pastry you could possibly think of was stocked in the house. And the freezer was more of the same — seven different containers of ice cream and one aged bag of edamame stuck in the back. 

“Gojo?” you stare into the open refrigerator, while Gojo lays back on his couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you have any food?” 

“What do you mean? The refrigerator is full of food?” and his voice is thick with genuine confusion and you’re almost wondering how this man survived to this age. 

Oh yeah, he’s rich. 

You sigh, closing the refrigerator doors, and striding over to him, only to snatch his phone out of his hands, “Sweets are not real food — how do you eat like this and function?” 

He only shrugs, lips curled into a grin, “I’m just built different,” 

“You mean like a person who won’t make it to age fifty?” you toss his phone back at him, “get up,” you grab your sweatshirt hanging by the door and throw his jacket at him. He barely catches it, as he sits up, his face displeased with your sudden need to get him up. 

“Where are we going?” 

“So,” Gojo says, his hands in his pockets, as you both walk the aisles of the grocery store, “why did I have to come with you?” 

“Because I’m going to show you how to actually shop for groceries, so you don’t have a heart attack and die before my stint with you is up,” you grab essentials and basics — oil, rice, cereal, pasta, spices, flour, sugar (although did he really need sugar with the amount he was already consuming?), “you know it would suck if my client died before we eliminated the other threats on his life,” before you add with a smile, “though I think your eating habits are more likely to kill you,” 

“You know men really hate sarcastic women,” he bites back, before something catches his eye in the aisle and he places it in the cart, “major turn off,” 

“Well, mission accomplished then,” you roll your eyes, as you look back at the cart to see a box of cookies, “you know when I said you were a moron, I was half kidding, but now,” you lift up the box of cookies, “you have a million cookies at home,” 

He pouts — why do you feel like a mother refusing their child their candy at checkout? — “Not these ones,” you take the box and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, and he relents. 

“Did you eat like this before college?” 

He shook his head, “My meals were prepared for me by the chef at my home, I never really had much of a say in what I ate, or anything really,” and you shake your head, “my father wasn’t really the type to let me handle anything on my own — thus the need for a babysitter,” 

You nod, “So no one really taught you how to take care of yourself?” and he shakes his head. 

“Guess not, but I guess no time like the present to learn,” he examines the box of baking powder you had just placed in the cart, “like what this is,” and you snort, taking the box from him and placing it back in the cart. 

“Maybe by the end of this trip, we’ll have you making it past the age of forty,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said fifty?” 

“The cookies made me lose more faith in you,” 

The two of you continue to shop, as you help him pick out vegetables, meat, and other necessities for the house. You separate the things for you and for him meticulously, as the two of you head over to the checkout, and he’s placing everything on the conveyor belt together, including your own things, “No wait, those are mine—” 

“Consider it payment,” he stops you, as you continue to try to argue, but he’s only blocking you from the conveyor belt with a raised arm, a real smile on his lips, “just let me do this for you,” And you can’t find any words, so your mouth shuts, and you nod — as you watch him speak with the older cashier with his patented charm. 

And the cashier stops you right as you’re leaving, whispering, “That’s a good one, don’t let him go, ok?” and you pause, her words sinking in as blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“We’re not—” 

“I know,” the older woman chuckles far too knowingly, as she hands you the receipt, “but you never know.” 

“You coming?” Gojo calls, turning to look back at you, as he pushes the cart of groceries, and you look from the cashier to him, before fleeing with a quick ‘thank you.’ 

And as you go home, you glance at Gojo, maybe there was more to him than you initially thought. 

“This is so boooooring,” Gojo’s whining for, what you assume is, the billionth time, “I hate philosophy, moral arguments? It’s such bullshit,” 

“You know philosophy is literally a subject that encompasses everything right?” you tilt your head watching him lay on the floor as the two of you sit at the table, his head right next to you, as you sit cross legged, “there’s no avoiding it in life,” 

“Well can’t I avoid it in school at least? Because college feels very different from real life,” and you roll your eyes, flicking him between the eyes. 

“Just write your paper, I already finished mine,” and he perks up. 

And he slides his laptop over to you, “Then you can write mine,” 

“That’s not happening,” and he groans again, “you know if you spent all the time that you whined working on your paper then you’d be done,” 

“Were you this much of a buzzkill when you were in college?” Gojo stares at you, “what do you even do for fun?” 

“Why is this relevant to you writing your paper?” 

“Why is writing my paper relevant to protecting my life?” and you open and close your mouth, “c’mon give me something, anything,” 

“How about this — when you finish a page, I’ll answer a question, any question,” you offer, and he grins, as he sits up and begins to type away at his laptop. 

You sit back, lying back and using your phone, until about fifteen minutes later when he’s holding his laptop up, showing you that he completed a page, “That fast?” you’re skeptical, and then you grab his laptop, skimming the page, wondering if he was trying to trick you — he wasn’t. It was good, more than good — it was a wonderful discussion of deontological ethics. 

“How did you finish this so fast?” you raise an eyebrow, “you complain so much, but you wrote this page far too quickly,” 

He shrugs, “I’m good at everything, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “jealous?”

“Totally,” you scoff, before grinning,  “so get back to work,” and he gapes at you, before groaning dramatically, lying back on the floor again. 

“Ugh, this is too much work,” he whines again, “I don’t know why I had to take this stupid class,” he grumbles. 

“Then why did you?” you scroll through your phone, checking for any new alerts or updates from his father or any other member of the security team, “you have a choice in what classes you sign up for, don’t you?” 

And for one of the first times, you saw Satoru’s playfulness ebb away, replaced with almost a bitterness — as bitter as his words were usually sweet, “Maybe most college kids do, but I don’t have a choice in most of the things I do, including the classes I pick,” 

You tilt your head, “Your father?” And he nods, “did you even choose your major?” 

His eyes drift to the ceiling, “Is it a choice when your father tells you you’re either being groomed to run his company when you graduate or he’s not paying for you to go to school at all?” 

“No, it isn’t,” you admit, “but it could be worse, he could have stuck you with a glorified babysitter on top of it,” 

He cracks a smile, “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for babysitters,” and you roll your eyes, cracking a smile. 

“Get back to work.” 

“Fuck,” Satoru muttered, watching the rain come down as he waited outside the university awning of the building he had just finished his class in. You had left him to go to class by himself — you trusted him enough not to get murdered while in class and on the walk back (high praise) — and said you’d likely just meet him back at the apartment. But now, he didn’t know how he’d get home without getting soaked. 

He checks his phone for any rideshares nearby, but there were none. And he would rather go drown in the rain than call his father’s driver, and guarantee a lecture about being prepared for “any given situation.” 

Shit. Maybe he would just risk walking. 

So he did. The rain soaked through his clothes all too quick, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, and the cold leeching the warmth from his body. And he couldn’t help but think if you were with him, you would have remembered to bring an umbrella. 

Weird, when did he ever really rely on anyone else? 

Yes, his father had maids, cooks, and personal shoppers when he was growing up — but they weren’t people he relied on — he did, but it was expected. It was their job. And yes, he was a job for you too — but…it was different. 

Satoru didn’t know when it happened but he had gotten used to your presence in his life. Whether it was at home or in class, you were always there. And it wasn’t as annoying as he thought it would be. It was…nice to have someone there to lean on. But, as he glanced up at the storm clouds, holding a hand above his eyes — rolling dark clouds with no signs of the rain letting up — this would be his reality once the threats were a distant memory. 

“Gojo!” He blinks, his eyes snapping forward, and he sees someone coming over the horizon. 

It was you — umbrella in hand, as your footsteps echoed with the splashes of water from the rain that collected on the ground. And you found your way to him, holding the umbrella over his head. He stared at you as you grew closer, wondering if you were real. And he wasn’t surprised you found him —

“How did you know?” He asks when you stand, catching your breath, short pants, as your eyes flicker up to his. 

“You always forget your umbrella, so I figured you needed one,” you shrugged, “plus I finished my meeting early so I came to get you,” and he only stares at you, “what?” 

And he only shakes his head, as he takes the umbrella from your hand, fingers brushing, as he holds it up over the both of you, your shoulders brushing as you begin to walk home. And he found himself wishing for a split second that the threats would never stop. 

“Just wondering if it’s in your job description to protect me from colds too,” and you snort, lips curling into the same smile he loved to see. 

“With you? It is.” 

“A party?” 

“Yes, known as a gathering of people where—” 

“I don’t need you to define the word,” you grit your teeth, as you watch him pull out shirts from his closet, holding them up, before shrugging, “do you know the kind of danger you could put yourself in by going?” 

“I know, the party might go into a frenzy at the sight of me, think of all the students who’d glare at you then,” he grins, as he finally settles on an outfit — charcoal gray shirt and a blue button down, “might have to call another bodyguard to guard you instead, princess,” 

“Aren’t you the princess if you’re the one being guarded?” you bite back, and he only laughs, hands in his pockets, “Gojo, you have serious threats that have been levied—” 

“Against my father—” 

“And you, the heir to your father’s company,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, “are you seriously going to risk our lives because you want to get drunk and fuck around with a bunch of idiots?” 

The answer was yes, of course. 

And now here you were, stuck babysitting this spoiled heir at a party. You hadn’t really been to any parties — hadn’t bothered to. You had gotten through college at a young age, perks of skipping a few grades, and you ended up in the family business regardless — so you didn’t bother to party much. Not when you had things to accomplish — babysitting a drunk heir wasn’t one of them. 

It has started as you expected. Gojo had flitted away from your side the first moment he got, disappearing into the throng of horny and drunk college students. You wove your way through the crowd, careful not to trip over the students making out, dancing, or drinking on nearly any available surface. The smell of beer and cheap cologne wafted through this dorm. And you had almost given up on finding him when you spotted him stuck to the sides of three girls, all of them far too eager to hang off his every word. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long night. 

“You one of Satoru’s girlfriends?” you glance to your side and see Suguru Geto in person. You had learned all about Satoru Gojo and the people he hung around. Like those three girls — one of them had a long distance boyfriend, the other had a cheating situationship she was trying to make jealous, and the other just wanted to fuck him for the experience. Suguru Geto was one of the only friends of Gojo you had liked from what you had read about him — humble background, on scholarship at the college, but one of the best students here — and a philosophy student of all things, the very subject his best friend hated. 

You want to say no, but unfortunately, you have no idea what the idiot has been saying to other people, “Something like that,” you sip at your drink to make the bitter words slide down, “why? Are you?” 

A chuckle slips past his lips, as he takes a swig of his drink, “Well I already like you better than the others. You have a sense of humor and seemingly more than two brain cells,” 

“Don’t give me too much credit,” you snorted, leaning against a wall, “I did end up here after all,”

“Fair enough, how’d he convince you to come?” And you shake your head — good question. What choice did you really have? You could have let him go alone, but probably not a good look 

“I don’t even know honestly, feel like I’ve been dragged here to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” you glance at him and the gaggle of girls, “though maybe I already fucking failed at that,” 

Geto shrugs, as his gaze slips from Gojo to you, “I mean until he sticks his tongue down one of their throats, I think you’re doing pretty well,” 

You laugh, “Good to know,” and you both continue to chat, and unbeknowst to you, while your focus is torn away from Gojo, his attention is fully on you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru imagined his crystal eyes were nothing more than daggers ready to strike, as he watches you and Suguru talk. 

It was his fucking idea to come to this party, so why were you having more fun than he was?

He swirled his drink miserably — he had barely taken a sip of the beer poured for him — why would he when it tasted like piss? He didn’t understand why people liked to drink — especially when they could eat mochi instead — but now, as he stares at you and Suguru, maybe he was starting to understand. 

He can’t hear what either of you are saying over the blaring music and the chatter of students surrounding him, but he can see the smile on your lips and the laugh that left them. 

Why the fuck do you look so happy to talk to Suguru? 

You seemed so bored when he was with you—and did you just fucking laugh again at something Suguru said? 

The crinkle of plastic and the distinct feeling of a spill made his gaze snap to his hand — he just crushed his plastic drink cup. He sighed, as he simply placed it among the other abandoned drink cups on a nearby table, before wiping off his hand with a napkin. 

Why did he even care? You were nothing but a nuisance anyway. All you did was follow him around, make him go to class on time, make sure he was safe, care about his well-being— 

What the fuck was he thinking? 

His eyes couldn’t help but slide back to you as he tried to enjoy the girls' company, their slight touches and soft pouts and sweet words not going unnoticed by him. But that was how it always was. Once people found out he was rich, people wanted to be his friend, they wanted to date him, they wanted him — but not really him, they wanted his money. 

First world problems, right? 

But you — you hadn’t been like that. You were irritatingly punctual, unfazed by his money, didn’t care in the slightest about his father or who he was — you just wanted to do your job. And he was your job, for the time being. 

And now he got to see you smile — your lips perfectly curled in a smile that both he wanted to see all the time and grated on his nerves — but you were smiling at someone else. And Suguru no less. 

“C’mon Satoru, you gonna make eyes at your boyfriend all night?” Aiko said, nudging him teasingly, her words far too slurred. 

“Help us finish these shots,” Yumiko whines, as she offers him a shot, urging it into his hands. 

He’s grimacing, he hates alcohol — he hates how he feels during and after; he hates the disgusting, metallic taste; and if it couldn’t get worse, he’s a lightweight. He stares at the shot. 

“It’s just one shot,” Misaki grins, holding up her own, clinking hers to his, “you’re already three shots behind everyone else,” 

And he’s about to open his mouth to refuse — make up an excuse of having to wake up early or stomach being unsettled — and that’s when you catch his attention. You were laughing now, a noise far too pretty for his liking, as you shoved Suguru’s chest playfully. 

Fuck it. 

He downs the shot, the liquid searing down his throat, dragging down until it settles in a burning pool in his stomach. Finally he tears his gaze away as the girls offer him another shot — as you grin at Suguru — this was going to be a long night. 

“Hey,” Geto jerks his head, “you might want to deal with that,” 

You whip your head around. 

“Oh what the—“ 

Gojo was hanging all over the girls he was with, barely able to stand on his two feet, as he swayed from side to side — his cheeks glowed with the telltale glow that told everyone he had been drinking (if that wasn’t obvious by literally everything else). 

Fuck. 

You had kept an eye on him. You swore he had only taken two shots of alcohol, how was he this drunk already? You examine and sniff the two shot glasses he used — no peculiar smell or residue — you run through the gamut of tests you could do on hand and conclude two things: 1) Gojo wasn't drugged and 2) he was a lightweight. 

But that didn’t stop him from acting like he wasn’t, as girls egged him on to take more shots, and from the way they were eyeing him, their intentions were anything but pure. 

You sigh, walking over, slipping past a drunk couple making out, a person passed out and sleeping on the floor, and a cluster of cheering onlookers as a student chugged what you can only assume was a disgusting concoction of alcohol. 

Until you finally reached his side. 

“I think you’ve had enough, isn’t that right, Satoru?” And he’s blinking at you, before he’s grinning, slurring your name.

“You’re no fun,” and he’s clinging all over you, his hands curled around your waist, “such a buzzkill, don’t even like to have any fun with me,” 

“Looks like you had too much fun without me,” you murmur, your arm slinks around the middle of his back, “let’s get you back to your dorm,” 

“Hey he’s fine, he’s having fun with us,” Aiko glared at you, a hiccup leaving her lips, “don’t go crashing our good time because he’s not interested in you,” 

“Yeah why don’t you go hang out with Geto or whatever? We’ll take good care of him. C’mon Toru, let’s go to my place in Shibuya, I have a huge house there,” Yumiko says, barely coherent, and you raise your eyebrows at the nickname, as she leans in to whisper, alcohol wafting off her breath, as she lifts up her middle finger, “fuck off,” 

Honestly the only reason you can understand the gist of what she meant was because of her middle finger. Their other friend is passed out on the couch. 

“I don’t think any of you can even care for yourselves,” you scoff, and Satoru is hanging all over you already, mumbling words you can’t make out in your ear, “I’m taking him home, you should take your friend home,” 

“Geto, wanna help me out?” And Geto nods, trying to take Gojo other arm, but Gojo pushes him away, instead clinging to you, you stumble a moment before catching both of you, “Gojo—“ 

“No, wanna go home with just you,” he’s officially whining, and you’re having flashbacks to the summer you spent babysitting, but — you look at the drunk white porcupine clinging to you — somehow this idiot is worse than the kid. 

You sigh, “Geto, make sure that girl gets home safe,” you gesture to the one passed out on the couch, “I’m going to deal with this one,” 

Geto stares at the two of you, the far too tall Satoru hunched over onto your body, “Can you—“ 

But you’re already walking away, able to drag Gojo away with relative ease (it’d be far easier if he’d pull his own weight, but at least he was quiet). 

That was, until you got outside. And then the whining began again. 

“How can you treat me like this?” Gojo’s hands cling to your arm, his face buried in your shoulder, “you shouldn’t ignore the one you’re supposed to protect!” and he’s shaking his head like a petulant child, his bottom lip quivering. 

“You’re the one who left my side, not the other way around,” you grumble, as he’s finally beginning to walk by himself but he’s still stuck to your side like an overgrown cactus, “you’re the one who wanted to go to this goddamn party,” 

“Yeah but you’re the one who's supposed to protect me,” he pouts, as he stops right in front of his building, “I can’t do your job for you,” and he’s finally standing in front of you, his cheeks and nose still flushed from the alcohol, his hand still clutching at yours, “do you even know how to do your job?” 

You grit your teeth. Would punching the person you’re hired to protect be a breach of contract? You rub your temples, it may come to that. 

“You’re an idiot,” you jerk your hand away, shaking your head, “my job is to protect you, not to stop you from doing stupid college boy shit,” 

He’s crossing his arms, “I could have been in danger — what if that alcohol was poisoned? I feel really sick,” he grips, holding his stomach with pursed lips, and you’re thoroughly unimpressed. 

“I looked at it, it wasn’t poisoned,” you raise an eyebrow, before sighing, and shrugging your shoulder bag off your shoulders, rooting around in the pouch, “but if you want, I have something in my bag that will turn your stomach inside out and we’ll be sure to get the poison out,” 

“Nooooo, no! I’m fine,” he’s shaking his head, his voice grows soft, “I just need to get to bed,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, but grab him by his wrist. 

“Come on, we’re going inside,” and it’s a struggle to get to his apartment — more like a luxury penthouse — on the top floor, but somehow you get him inside and shepherd into his bedroom. And he’s shrugging off his button up before pulling off the shirt underneath. 

Your gaze snaps away, cheeks burning, your eyes trying to erase the glimpse of his fucking unfairly chiseled physique — complete a surprisingly broad chest and shoulders — how the fuck was that hiding under his clothes? He looked like a stick normally with his clothes on. 

“See something you like?” he’s snickering, as you hear the click of his belt and the and sounds of rustling — assuredly stepping out of his jeans. 

“No, just not used to clients stripping for me,” you turn your back to him, as you hear the creak of the mattress and the crinkling of his comforter and sheets. 

“Am I just a client to you?” his words were still mildly slurred, and you knew he’d be pouting if he had enough brain cells to do so, “you can turn around, I’m under the covers,” he adds with a grumble. 

You turn and see him curled up under his blanket and you have to bite back your smile — now he most assuredly looked like one of the kids you used to babysit. 

“Well what else am I supposed to see you as, Gojo?” you cross your arms, and he’s muttering under his breath, “what?” 

“That’s just it. You don’t even call me by my first name,” he’s brooding, face twisted in a scowl, “I don’t have a lot of people I trust. Most people are just after my money or my looks,” he looks at you, “you’re different. Kinda weird,” 

You quirk an eyebrow, “is that a good thing?” 

“Well I trust you,” he admits, and you note the tips of his ears barely visible outside the comforter are red — is it still the flush from the alcohol? “I don’t really have many of those,” 

And you’re taken aback — you thought you were nothing but a nuisance to this party obsessed prince, but maybe there was more to him than you thought. You toyed the ring on your finger, maybe you had more in common than you thought. 

“Thank you, I’m glad you do, because you can, trust me that is,” you say softly, “good night, Satoru.” 

And he does sleep after that, as you spend the night keeping watch, half to ensure his safety and the other to make sure he slept on his side in case he threw up

(and he did, twice). 

“I need to talk to you,” Suguru Geto barely looked up from his phone when he saw Satoru in front of him, his best friend looking more irritable than usual — his usually bored affect seemed to be on holiday, “Suguru?” 

“I heard you the first time, what is it?” and Satoru snatches the phone from Suguru’s hands, “what the fuck—“ 

“What were you doing last night?” and Suguru tilts his head, before rubbing his temple.

“Give me my fucking phone—“ 

“What did you talk to her about?” And Suguru stares at him, his brow furrowed, smart mouth ready with a reply about a stint in a spa or a retreat was needed before his lips curl. 

“Oh. Her,” and he’s leaning back, a lazy shrug, “this and that,” 

“Cut the shit, Suguru, do you like her or not? Did you get her number?” And Satoru is trying to unlock Suguru’s phone, as Suguru watches with a tilt of his head and a wry grin on his lips, “huh? what is it?” 

“So you like her, that much is clear,” and he’s crossing his arms, “I assume you didn’t tell her or you wouldn’t have come in swinging and stealing?” 

Satoru stares at him, slack jawed and cheeks turning a deep pink that only carnations could rival, “No! She’s just a…friend of the family, and she’s not supposed to be with—“ 

“She told me she liked you,” his heart catches, mouth falling open, before Suguru’s lips curl, “well, she said that she was one of the many, rather,” 

Satoru’s cheeks burn, “It’s not like that, she barely even fucking looks at me. Can you believe that? Me?” and he gestures up and down his body. 

“I see your ego is still intact,” Suguru scoffs, shaking his head, before leaning back on his palms, “just tell her how you feel, Satoru, what’s the problem?” 

“The problem is I have no idea how she feels and it’s all your fault!” And Suguru raises an eyebrow, “you charmed her and I’m sure you’re the only one she’s thinking about now,” he covers his face, “and after what I said to her last night…” he couldn’t believe he admitted that you were the one of the only ones he trusted. And he called you weird. 

He honestly didn’t know what was worse. 

“What did you even say?” 

“Say to who?” and Satoru turns, finding you standing behind him, arms crossed. 

And Satoru cuts Suguru off before he can say a thing, “Not important. What are you doing here—“ you grab him by the wrist, a wave of heat makes his nearly burn red as you begin to drag him away, “what are you—“ 

“Bye Geto,” you say, waving at the raven haired student, before taking Geto’s phone and tossing it back to him, “I’m taking the idiot—“ 

“HUH?” 

“Good luck. He might need to be fed — he’s in a mood,” and he waves back, same smile on his lips. 

“What did you two do, adopt me?” Satoru grumbles as you pull him away, “where the hell are you dragging me? How did you even find me?” 

“The post hangover suits you well, we have to get to class, and I placed a tracker on you,” and he’s jerking his hand away, staring at you, “I have to be able to find you, don’t I?” 

“Where?” 

You tilt your head, “Why would I tell you? Don’t worry about, I’ll remove it after we’re done here,” 

You weren’t going to budge on this — and if he argued more, you would take it up with his father. And he would like to avoid that as much as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, , “I’m tired, can’t you just go and take notes for me?” 

“I thought you’d be more concerned about the threats against your life, instead of sending your bodyguard off to your class for you” you hiss, and he’s pouting again, unable to meet your gaze, “what’s your problem, Satoru?” 

And he pauses, the retort on lips dying as his brain looped in an infinite spiral of his name on your lips, “You called me ‘Satoru,’”

You tilt your head, “you told me to last night,” and then you add with a wicked grin, “remember? When you said I was one of the only people you trusted,” you tease, but he’s too busy hearing his name repeat in his head again and again, “Satoru—“ 

“Better be careful, sweetheart,” his lips curl into that annoyingly charming smile, “keep calling me by my first name and I may fall for you,” 

You glare at him, before rolling your eyes, “I see you’re feeling better now,” you walk forward, glancing back at him, “you coming?” 

And his wrist tingles still tingle from your touch, his lips quirk into a smile, “Yeah.” 

“Why did you become a bodyguard?” Satoru asks you, the movie you had haphazardly chosen still ongoing had all become background noise while you spoke, the illumination from the television screen being the only thing that kept your faces lit in the dark living room (he had insisted on shutting the lights off for an “authentic movie watching experience”). 

It had been a few weeks, with no signs of the threat posed ever being eliminated — still new threats were being made, and the Gojo family was still on edge. 

But you were on edge for a whole other reason. 

His fingers were still shoved in the bag of kettle corn he had been snacking on this entire time, but you could feel his gaze on you, instead of the movie. 

“What do you mean?” your eyes slide to him, as your phone’s ringer goes off with a spam email, and you silence it, keeping it on vibrate for emergencies, “and what’s with the sudden question?” 

The two of you had settled into your routine — days spent in class, meals shared, grocery shopping, and nights spent either in or out — but again, always together. And, it wasn’t bad — some of it was fun, to the point you almost forgot you were working. 

But you were working. Even now, as your legs are thrown up on the couch, crossed underneath you, your knee brushing against his thigh. 

He shrugs, “You owe me a question, remember?” and he reminds you of your promise from weeks ago — you had wondered why he had never asked you anything that night, “You never talk about yourself. You implied you have your degree, but not much else. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re intelligent — you could have done anything, why this?” and his lips curl into that mischievous, “unless you just had to guard me when you found out it was me,” 

You toss a throw pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, “If only your body was as bulletproof as your body,” and he huffs out a laugh, as you sigh, “why are you interested anyway?” 

“Because I am,” you scoff. 

“Nice reasoning,” he only grins, a thousand watt even in the dark. 

“I thought so,” and he’s holding the pillow to his chest, “c’mon, can you not tell me even one thing about yourself?” 

He wasn’t going to let this go was he? And you relent, chewing on your lip, “My family has been in this business for years — my grandfather, my father, my uncles, and my cousins, and I wanted to be one too. To protect people — it’s a lot more work than it seems. It’s quick thinking, critical reasoning, and analytical skills. It’s all I ever wanted to do after watching my dad do it,” you say softly, “but he didn’t think I was capable of it. He thought I was too soft. Too weak. So I decided to prove him wrong,” 

“You weak? Has your father met you?” and you huff a laugh, “I’m serious,” his cerulean pools meeting yours with not a ripple of hesitancy in them, “I’ve seen you — I don’t I’ve met anyone this determined, or stubborn,” he adds with a smirk. 

“I’m stubborn?” you gape at him, “this coming from the king of stubborn,” 

“Only if you’ll be my queen,” and you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn, as your gaze turns back to the movie — why did your heart catch at his words? “but trust me, I’m very flexible in other aspects,” 

“Oh my god, is every other sentence that leaves your mouth a pick-up line?” and he opens his mouth, “don’t say ‘only for you,’ or I will be the only threat you have to worry about,” 

“Promise?” you grab another pillow, but he catches your wrist before you can toss it. Your breath catches, and you can’t meet his gaze — you can’t, because you know if you do— but then he whispers your name. 

And you can’t help it. You look at him. His eyes are so pretty. They were really the first things that struck you when you met him — that was before he opened his mouth. They looked like they contained multitudes, a far too beautiful ocean tucked behind sunglasses and an irritated scowl. But it wasn’t a secret that Satoru Gojo was attractive — especially not when every other person glared at you for simply being in his presence. But physical attractiveness meant little if a person wasn’t good — because superficiality could only take you so far. 

And you knew what it was like to be only judged superficially — and by the way Satoru’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when these people chatted him up, he was far too used to it. 

And once he did speak, you had written him off as another rich kid — you had seen them a dime a dozen throughout your schooling and from the people your family was protected to hire. But there was something about him — something you couldn’t quite shake, even though every part of you was telling to do so. 

“What is it, Satoru?” And his fingers tug you a little closer, gently, his hand loose enough for you to slip away, but you don’t. Why don’t you? 

“You don’t always have to have your guard up,” his voice is soft, far too soft for the far too loud heir, “it’s okay to open up,” 

You shake your head, but still unable to pull away, “It’s dangerous,” and he laughs, a sound that only warms the thin icy barrier between you both, melting it to nothing. 

“Isn’t danger the whole reason we met?” And now his thumb brushes up and down against your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse roaring just underneath. 

You pull away again, shaking your head, as you cross your arms, trying to hold your resolve together, “I can’t do my job if I’m distracted,” and you couldn’t, even now, you weren’t evaluating any risks, you weren’t trying to find the source of the threats — no, you were too busy trying not to inch closer to your client, trying not to look at his lips, trying not to give in to what you wanted. 

“And I’m a distraction?” he looks far too pleased, but a thought seems to sour his smirk, “I thought Suguru was more of one,” and his lips are caught in a slight pout. 

“Geto was just keeping me company while you entertained those girls hanging on your every word,” you can’t dull the point to your words, and it replaces his pout with a grin. 

“So you were jealous,” 

“You’re the one who was jealous — you could have killed Suguru with your glare alone,” 

“But you didn’t deny it,” and it makes you stop — why didn’t you deny it? 

“I can’t do this,” and you’re pulling away, before flicking off the tv and rising from the couch your phone in hand, turning towards the hallway, “it’s late we should go to bed—“ but he’s catching your wrist again, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you hated how gentle his fingers felt around your wrist, “how are you supposed to protect me if you’re too busy running away from me?” 

“I’m great at multitasking,” and he’s drawing closer to you, his soft footfalls against the carpet, even as you step away from him, “my job is to protect you, we can’t get distracted—“ 

“I thought you were so good at multitasking,” he chuckles, his fingers find your wrist again, slipping to intertwine with your own, fingers interlaced, and your phone falls from your fingers and onto the couch, “what I said that night when I was drunk was true — I don’t have a lot of people I trust. People don’t understand. They put me on a pedestal or they don’t want me, they want the concept of me — not the reality,” 

“I’m not licensed as a therapist you know,” and he’s sighing. 

“Do you always have to deflect with humor? Because if we both do that, we’ll never get through a conversation,” and he squeezes your hand, “which I guess I don’t mind if that means you’ll stay,” 

“Satoru—“ 

“We don’t have to do anything now — we don’t have to do anything at all,” and you can feel his words warming your skin, “but don’t you feel something?” 

You hesitate, and you can’t look at him,  “No, I don’t,” 

“You’re not a very good liar — don’t they teach you that in bodyguard academy?” 

You snort, holding your head, “Is that where you imagined I got my training done?”

“Well, you don’t exactly like to share, now do you?” he’s stepping forward again, and you can’t bring yourself to run away anymore. 

“I shouldn’t,” and you hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, “but I do,” 

You don’t need to look at him to hear the smile on his lips, “so maybe it’s a distraction worth having,” 

“But—” and he’s gently turning you to face him, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, heat blooming with his touch, “Satoru…” 

“Why do you keep saying my name when you know I like hearing it?” he’s teasing, but you’re not shying away from his touch, as his fingers cup your chin now, upwards, so you meet his gaze, “maybe we should have had you pretend to be my girlfriend,” 

You chuckle, “Oh I could see that going wrong in so many ways,” and he’s leaning even closer, as he’s left the line you’d drawn far behind, marred it with his touch, and is luring you over to stumble over the edge with him. 

“Is this one of them?” 

“Probably,” and his lips brush against yours — he tastes sweet, the taste of kettle corn lingers, as his fingers cup your cheek now, and find purchase on his shoulder. It’s brief, a soft press that leaves you far too breathless, as if his touch had taken the air from your lungs, only to leave heat behind, “definitely,” 

“Is that a good thing or—” and your lips find his this time, a gasp you swallow with a smirk, and he melts into your touch, eager fingers grasping at the front of his shirt. And he responds in kind, his fingers tracing a path, as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand settles on the back of your neck. 

His touch set every nerve ending on fire — a desperate wildfire that burned a trail across your mind and body — leaving only the crave of his touch behind, that left you wanting more, needing more.

“Was that good?” you murmur, as you take in your handiwork, his pink lips were bitten red by your kisses, his marble skin a lovely flush, and his gaze far too needy. God, it’s far too easy to get lost in him — pull your anchor from the shore and get lost in his gaze and touch, “god I shouldn’t ask that, we shouldn’t be doing this—” but your body refuses to pull away, and you don’t think by the grasp he has on you, that you’d be able to anyway. 

But he only gives you the same answer to each of your statements — he kisses you again, slower and more languid this time, as the two of you walk towards the bedroom, your hands reaching for each other and the walls, as you both stumble into his bedroom. 

“We don’t—” he says, between kisses, “I didn’t—” 

“I didn’t either, but—” you can’t stop touching him, you don’t want to, despite the logical part of you screaming at you to leave his room, it’s overridden by just how much you want him. He’s frustrating, he’s an idiot, he’s sweet, he’s cute, and he’s a little pathetic — but you liked that in a man. Every sense of logic is screaming at you to stop — but it all turns to white noise  “but I don’t want to stop.” 

He’s grinning as he pulls you into another kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist, pressing you against him, “That addicted already?” lips parting as he kisses down your neck, pulse jumping under his touch. 

“You’re just lucky Geto didn’t get to me first,” and he furrows his brow, before his teeth graze against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips, “Satoru, what was that for—”  

“So everyone knows you’re mine? Including Suguru,” he’s sucking lightly at the mark, soothing his tongue, “and I’ll make sure he knows,” 

“Oh, I trust you’ll be subtle,” and he’s guiding you towards his bed, both of you falling onto it, his knee pressing your legs apart, as he hovers over you, his ocean gaze dark as a storm ridden sea. 

“Oh you know me, princess,” and his knee presses against your clothed cunt, rubbing against it teasingly, “subtlety is my specialty,” 

“Subtle as a truck,” you murmur, and he’s laughing as he kisses you again, making your lips curl, as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing your hips, “Satoru, please,” 

“What’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you?” he’s kissing needy kisses to your neck, as his knee doesn’t relent, grinding lightly against your increasingly wet core, slick leeching through the thin material of your shorts, “gotta make sure you want it right?”

“You treat all the people you bring home this well?” and he’s pausing, lips against your neck, “I didn’t mean anything—” 

“You’re the first,” you stare up at him, and he’s hesitant for once when usually he’s always barreling forward, “I’ve never brought anyone here,” and he licks his lips, a deeper flush settling over his porcelain skin, “I’ve never actually—” 

And you blink, “Really?” 

He huffs, “Is it that surprising—” 

“I mean a little, from the way everyone acts around you, and the way you act—” 

“Well, ‘act’ is the key word, now isn’t it?” he’s licking his lips as he looks down at you, “it’s easy to act when you know what they expect from you — a role to play,” 

“Well, the role’s been filled, so how about you just be yourself for me?” you murmur softly, a featherlight touch as you trace the curve of his jaw, and his lips find his smile under your delicate touch, “so I can ask, is this your first time like you asked me?” 

And he’s leaning up to kiss you, your hand resting against his chest, his heartbeat galloping under your touch, “And if I said yes?” 

You smile, before flipping him onto his back, his gaze wide as he stares up at you, “Then we better make it memorable.” 

“Please, I want to—“ his soft pants left his perfect lips, chest heaving as your fingers curled around his erection, far too hard from just what you had done. You’d stripped yourself and him bare — your inhibitions left far behind — as your lips kissed the tip of his aching cock.

“Lemme make you feel good, Satoru,” you murmur, looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your fingers smearing his pre cum along his length, and he’s pressing his head into the pillow, “s’big, can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur, and you slowly pump him, drawing moan after moan from his lips. 

“Won’t last long—can’t—“ he’s biting his lip, his hips thrusting into your touch, before your lips suck at his tip again, and he’s gone, cumming hard all over your face and fingers. God, it never felt that good when he touched himself. Your fingers even brushing against him made him want to cum almost instantly, your soft touch and lips were enough to send him over the edge over and over again.  

He’s panting, eyes fluttering open to see you licking your lips clean with your tongue, as you meet his gaze with a grin, slowly sucking on each one of your fingers until you’ve cleaned yourself of his cum. 

“Princess, fuck,” he’s lying back on the pillow, as your lips slowly kiss back up his body, your tongue dragging between the fluttering muscles of his stomach and chest. 

“Already hard again?” You murmur, a smirk on your lips, “so sensitive for me,” 

He’s keening at your words, a whimper leaving his lips. His eyes are blown out in pleasure as he meets your gaze, and you kiss him again, sloppy and messy, as his tongue brushes against yours, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection. 

“Please,” he can’t help the words leaving his lips, “I need you,” 

“Is this the first time you’ve begged for something?” You tease him, smirk on your lips as your thumb teases one of his nipples, pulling a gasp from his lips, “such a good boy,” 

He hissed at your praise, “fuck—“ 

And you’re grinding against him, he’s already embarrassingly hard, blood rushing back to his cock as if it never left, as it drags against the all too wet fabric of your panties. And every small moan that leaves your lips leaving him needing more, his pre cum mixing with your cum that seeps through your panties, and is the second time he comes with you gonna be just grinding against each other on this bed? But he can’t help it if you keep nibbling at his neck like that, your pretty little pants in his ear, the head of his dick catching on your clit — so fucking good. 

“Toru, c-close, ngh, g’nna cum—“ and he’s nodding, forcing his eyes open to watch you cum, your chest shaking, as you hover above him, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as you said his name. 

“S’good,” he’s grunting, “Cum f’me,” and you both do, the slick and stickiness between your bodies almost unbearable, as you both pant, as you rest your head against his shoulder. 

The silence sinks in for a moment, as you kiss his cheek, “we can stop here if you want,” your voice is soft, nose brushing against his neck, “don’t want to make you—“

And he’s flipping you onto your back, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitching as he drags the material down your legs, and tosses it behind him, “I want this, I want you, and I won’t stop saying it until you believe it,” he leans down, breath warming your breasts through your shirt, before his lips suck at your clothed nipples, making you shiver, “you like that, huh?” 

“Shut up,” your cheeks burn, but he’s only tugging your shirt over your head and off, his gaze hot as he drags his eyes down your exposed body, and it makes you squirm, “Satoru — please—“ 

“Now who’s the one doing the begging?” he leans down to suck on your nipple, while his fingers toy with the other between his thumb and forefinger, “I wanna learn what makes you feel good — wanna make you cum under my touch, wanna taste you,” he switches sides, his teeth grazing the skin of your breast, sucking a mark before soothing it with his tongue, “mine,” 

“Satoru, fuck, I want—“ and his fingers trace down your body, making you gasp, he’s kissing down your chest and then your stomach, tongue dipping into your bellybutton, “you fucking—“ 

“Gotta make you feel good don’t I?” he has a shit eating grin on his lips, as he settles between your thighs, and his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “though it looks like you’re already feeling good,” 

You bite back a whimper, “Are you gonna make me feel good or are you gonna keep talking—“ you moan when his thumb bears down on your needy clit, rubbing it through the nearly translucent fabric of your underwear. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” And he’s snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin, “couldn’t hear you,” 

“You fucker—“ and he’s kissing your clothed cunt through the wet fabric, nose brushing against your clit, making you nearly shake, as he inhales before he moans. 

“So sweet, must taste even sweeter,” he murmurs before tugging your underwear down, before you’re kicking it off, making him chuckle, “so eager,” and you scowl up at him, ineffective from the way lips are parted, “you’re so cute,” 

“I’m not cute,” you pout, and he’s laughing, a noise you could drown in, just as you do his eyes. 

“You’re very cute, and I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it,” and his lips press soft kisses to your thighs, “my cute bodyguard, you gonna guard my heart as well as you do my body?” 

And before you can reply his breath is warming your soaked cunt, his fingers parting your folds apart, your clit was puffy, your sex slick with your mixed juices, “so pretty, this all just for me?” And you hiss as he holds your outer lips apart, “so this is what your pussy looks like, huh?” And your thighs are twitching, trying to shut, but his palms hold you apart, his heated gaze meeting your shy ones, “you’re perfect, don’t hide from me, you’ve done enough of that,” and he kisses your clit, making you moan, “and I won’t have that anymore,” 

“Satoru—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping pussy experimentally, tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, fuck, how can he this good at this? Your toes are already curling as he groans, his fingers sliding under your thighs, and tugging you impossibly closer to his face. Your fingers weave into his white locks, “‘ngh— 

“Be a good girl and take it,” he grunts against you, slurping your juices, the sounds of his tongue buried in your cunt, fucking you open, dragging across your walls, “taste s’fucking good, how’d I hold out this long without tasting you?” And your eyes flutter open at his groans, seeing him grind down on the sheets, so fucking horny from eating you out, “g’nna just cum from your taste alone, Princess,” you’re so incredibly soft, so soft, despite your walls being so tough, and it makes only eat you eat you from the inside out. 

You’re so close, and all you hear is the sounds of his greedy tongue swallowing you whole, and the sound of your heartbeat and short gasps. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your thighs twitching under his touch, hips jolting forward to meet his touch, his tongue so fucking deep that you can’t see straight, “Toru, please, I’m so close—“ 

And you feel him groan into your pussy, redoubling his efforts before his fingers find your clit and rub at it while he sucks at your cunt. You cum hard, fingernails digging into his scalp, as your back arches as he eagerly eats you out through your orgasm. The wet squelch of your cunt and his tongue slurping against you, drinking every drop you offer him. 

And then finally he’s pulling away with a pop, his chin and mouth dripping with your release and his spit, pink tongue darting out to clean up your cum from his face, wiping off the rest as he looked up at you from white lashed half lidded eyes. 

And you can’t even speak, still coming down from your high, as he kisses up your body again, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, your fingers reaching for his cheek, tracing his jaw, before cupping his cheek. 

“How the fuck do you know how to do that well?” And he flashes a pretty smile, as he drags his thumb down your lips. 

“I said I was a virgin, I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do some things — and as you know, I’m an excellent student,” and you huff, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m naturally good at everything,” 

“And always so humble,” he laughs, before he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his sweet lips, and you’re rolling him over onto his back, his erection slick with precum, pressing against your sensitive cunt, “let me make you feel good now,” you murmur, his cock twitching against you, “wanna ride you, Toru, need you in me,” 

And he’s hissing, as he moves to sit against the headboard, “You keep talking like that princess, I’m g’nna cum before you even—“ and your fingers are reaching between your bodies, and you’re stroking him, smearing his precum over the length of his shaft, making his hips jerk, “fuck—” 

You’re so fucking pretty — your teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as you straddle him, hovering still, his aching tip barely brushing against your dripping cunt, “are you sure?” you murmur, eyes meeting his own, and his lips quirk into a smile. 

“Never been more sure of anything,” and you sink onto him, thick length parting your folds, and he groans, as you fit him in your pussy, inch by inch, until your hips are flush. And fuck, he’s never felt anything better — pleasure runs up and down his body, as his hands find their way to your hips.

You’re tense at first, your back slightly arched, and when he shifts under you, a moan is ripped from your lips, as you begin to adjust to his size, “s’big, Toru, gonna make it hard for me to last too, feels too good,” you’re mumbling, and he’s holding his hips taut, making sure not to move — or else, he’s sure he’d cum in one stroke, “g’nna move ok?” and he’s nodding desperately, your walls already fluttering around him — slick and warm, better anything he’d ever felt. 

You lift up to the tip, before beginning to rock steadily up and down, as he moans, your sweet cunt swallowing him eagerly, as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your chest bounces as you ride him, and he can’t resist leaning forward to take a hardened bud in his mouth, your moan making his cock twitch inside you. And he knows why people become addicted to sex — hell, he knew was an addict for it now, but only with you. 

“Fuck, never felt anything this good before, sweetheart, feel s’perfect for me,” he’s grunting, the coil in his stomach growing tighter, as your pace grows more and more sloppy. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you from the way you were groaning his name again and again. The wet squelch and smacks of your bodies meeting again and again, only making it harder to hold back, and when he looks to see a white ring of your precum pooling around the base of his dick, he’s nearly gone, “fuck, baby, need you to cum with me,” 

“It’s okay, pretty boy, cum for me,” he keens at the praise, but he’s stubborn, as you established, and he won’t cum until you do too — and so he ensures it, reaching between your bodies to rub meanly at your clit before meeting your thrusts with his own. 

And his tip brushes against that spot that has your vision blurring and toes curling, “Toru, ngh, I’m—” and you’re cumming hard around him, making him spill his warm and thick seed inside your cunt, and he’s groaning you name as he does, your body slowing as you both come down from your highs, your head resting on his shoulder, as your bodies grow limp, resting, his back pressed to the headboard of his bed. 

His fingers trace the curve of your back gently, as he turns his head to press soft kisses to your neck, “Am I still just a distraction?” his lips curled into a smile, and you chuckle, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Definitely,” but you lean back to cup his cheek, and look at his pretty face again, “but one worth having.” 

You don’t wake from your alarm the next morning. 

Instead, you wake to banging on the door. You both jolt awake, and he’s pulling you into his arms, even as you move to get up, he won’t let go, strong arms around your waist. You’re easing his arms off, trying to be gentle, “Toru, let go, and wait here, your father had a panic room installed in your closet, you hear anything, go inside—” 

“No, I’m coming with you,” and you shake your head. 

“I’m hired to protect you, not the other way around,” you leave his embrace, and face him, his crystal eyes blurred over with worry, “I can handle this,” you reassure him, your fingers intertwining with his, as you press a kiss to his knuckles, “I promise,” 

“But—” and you kiss him gently, silencing his protests, before you slip away into the hallway. 

You enter the living room, shutting the bedroom door without a sound, stalking through the hall, as you grab a knife and pepper spray from the chest of drawers that was pressed to the wall of the hallway — you had several self defense tools hidden all over the apartment. Your heartbeat thunders in your ear, mouth dry, as you approach the door from the side. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Gojo, open this door,” and you sigh, relaxing, as you check and unlock the door for him. 

Shinsaku Gojo was only a man you were able to meet once before your work for him began. And it was a privilege even to see him then. His schedule was always packed — multiple meetings, multiple clients, and multiple women, all vying for his attention. Even as you spoke with him the first time, his eyes were on his phone the entire time, except when he had warned you, not to let anything distract you from protecting his son. 

And you had done just that — and even worse, his son had done the distracting, “Mr—” 

“Where’s my son? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, and neither have you—didn’t you hear from your agency?” his voice is raising, as he dials your number again, and your phone vibrates on the couch. He scoffs, disconnecting the call, as his hard gaze turned back to you, “what if there was a threat? You left your phone—” 

“Dad,” Satoru emerges from the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s not her fault, she forgot it last night when we were watching a movie,” 

“Watching a movie?” he sneers, his cerulean gaze the same as son, but without any of the warmth Satoru had — an icy tundra compared to a warm pool, “she should be watching you, that’s her job—” 

“She was watching me — something you never bothered to do,” and his father’s eyes narrow, “she’s shown more concern for me than you ever had — and she only met me a few weeks ago. What’s your excuse for being a pathetic piece of—“ 

“Satoru,” your fingers brush his shoulder, shaking your head, “sir, I take responsibility for this lapse of judgment. Don’t blame your son,”

Satoru lowers his voice, “it’s not your fault—“ 

“It is. I disregarded by duty to protect you,” your cheeks burn with shame — “what if i had missed an alert you were in danger? What if I failed to protect you because I wasn’t focused? What if—“ 

“Nothing happened,” he says softly, and the twitch of his fingers tells you he’s gonna reach for you, but you step forward, shaking your head. 

“Nothing did,” and you turn to his father, “I’ll protect Satoru until you can find a suitable replacement for me. But I compromised my mission to protect him. I would like to resign as soon as possible,” 

“No! I—“ 

“Agreed,” his father says, “I’ll have your replacement here in an hour, make sure you’re packed up by then,” and his father leaves without another word. 

You brush past him to gather your things, but he’s caught you by the wrist, “Why did you do—“ 

“Gojo,” and you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe—“ 

“I don’t care—“ you cut him off. 

“I do, I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because of me. What it was an emergency last night and you got hurt because of my own carelessness—“ 

“It wasn’t careless what happened last night—“ 

“It was,” you say, walking to your room, “and it won’t happen again.” 

You left. You had expected a fight, an argument, a dramatic show of tears — but nothing. Satoru hadn’t even opened his door to watch you leave. The other bodyguard arrived quickly, and you left the penthouse and didn’t look back. 

It was for the best. 

You had a duty, a role to play, and more than that, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of your inability to compartmentalize. Even so, Satoru’s father was kind enough not to have told your father what happened — or you supposed it was pity in exchange for your quick and easy resignation. 

Fuck. Why were you still thinking about this? You rolled over in bed, burying your head under your comforter. A week out, and you still couldn’t stop worrying about Satoru, about his safety, about the hurt on his face, about that night… 

You had fucked everything up, and fucked Satoru up in the aftermath. 

You poke your head out, and stare at your phone on your bedside table — 7:45 PM, no new messages — you had written out six different messages to him again and again, before deleting them. You wondered how many more you’d write before you finally would rid your mind of him. 

Would you ever rid your mind of him? 

And that’s when your phone rings. But it’s not flashing Satoru’s number — it’s his father. You scramble for the phone — why was he calling? And you can only think of one reason. You can’t say a single word when you pick up — his father already hissing his first question.  

“Where is he?” your words are lodged in your throat, stuck on your heart that had leapt from your chest. 

“What?” 

“Where’s Satoru? He came to you didn’t he?” he growls, and you hear a slam, assumedly his fist against his desk, “he shook off his new bodyguard, and his phone is off,” 

“He hasn’t — I haven’t talked to him since I left—” your mind is running a mile a minute, racking your brain, placing the call on speakerphone, as you text Satoru, where are you? “Where did the bodyguard see him last?” 

“He had him at the dorms, he said he was going to see a friend, and then gave him the slip,” his father groans, “you hear anything from him, otherwise—” 

“I’ll let you know,” you cut him off at the threats — you had more important things to do. You checked your messages, but your messages hadn’t gone through, and you tried calling him — but it went straight to voicemail. Satoru was upset — he could’ve blocked you or turned off his phone to piss off his father, but you didn’t see him doing that. He was an idiot, but he knew his father would lose his shit. 

And then you remembered. The tracker you placed on Satoru — you never took it off. You had sewed it into the insole of his daily shoes (the man had far too many clothes and shoes, but he rarely found the energy to not wear anything besides the shoes he always wore). 

You turned it on, biting your lip as you watched the tracker loaded, and his location popped up — and it wasn’t at his apartment. 

It was in Shibuya — you typed in the address and he was at a house. 

You furrow your brow, who did he know who lived in Shibuya? And then it clicked. 

Fuck. 

Those girls. 

Satoru groaned, fuck, why is his head hurting so badly? 

It wasn’t exactly unusual the last few days. He hadn’t been sleeping much since you left, he spent most of his nights watching TV and rotting in his bed. But everything reminded him of you — his bed, his couch, and even the shows he watched (he had continued one of the shows you both had started one late night). 

His apartment was a disaster — a mess of empty soda cans, empty wrappers of candy and old takeout containers. But he couldn’t be bothered with it — to clean it up or call someone to clean it up. His bodyguard had taken up residence in your room — or rather the guest room — and hardly emerged, keeping an eye on him through cameras his father had installed around the doors and hallway. 

Not that he really needed to, Satoru rarely left his apartment, even had skipped classes for a week — sending an email that he had a very contagious illness and that he’d be happy to attend class if necessary. They sent him materials to work on classwork from home, piled untouched on his kitchen counter, with a possible smudge from the hot fudge he had last night. 

He had made progress — instead of staying in bed, he moved onto the couch for his afternoon nap, and he had just fallen asleep when there was a banging on his door. He groaned into the couch pillow he had just gotten comfortable on, before pulling it onto his head, trying to block out the sounds of the knocking. 

“Satoru! Open up,” he hears Suguru’s voice through the door, “open the fucking door, I know you’re not sick,” 

He pulls himself up, groaning, as he wipes the small amount of drool from his lips, as he meanders to the door, throwing it open. 

“You look like shit,” Suguru says, brushing past him to enter. 

“No ‘hello, you look like shit?’” He mumbles, still rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he stands, hands in his pockets, as he takes in the mess with a wrinkled nose, “although I see you’ve decided to redecorate,”

“Hilarious,” Satoru replies, lying back on the couch, “did you come here just to hassle me?” 

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but the other was to see if you’re ready to pick yourself back up after your breakup—“ 

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Satoru snaps. 

“If it wasn’t, then why does it look like you haven’t showered in several days since she left?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, and Satoru scowls. 

“I’m sick,” he turns away to face the couch, “I don’t have the energy to shower,” 

“But you have the energy to eat about half a dozen mochi doughnuts?” Suguru holds up an empty doughnut box, and Satoru holds a couch pillow to his chest, “Satoru, come on, it isn’t like you to wallow like this,” 

“I’m not wallowing—“ 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re sick, right?” Suguru says sarcastically. Satoru doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes, “well you don’t seem like you’re sneezing or coughing so go take a shower or something,” Satoru gives a weak fake cough, and he could feel Suguru’s glare, “fine, rot in bed, but you have to get up sometime, just text me when you’re ready to,” 

And Satoru hears Suguru’s footsteps recede to the door, swinging shut with a click behind him. He buries his face in the pillow. It wasn’t a break up. How could it be when you didn’t even have a relationship to begin with? You had made that clear enough when you left without another word to him. He didn’t leave his room until he heard the door shut behind you, and he made his way out to watch you leave out the front door of the apartment. And you didn’t even look back. But you weren’t the type to. 

He felt like he was always looking back — one way or another. 

And even now, as he came to — he was trying to remember what he had done after Suguru left. Someone else had shown up — knocked at his door. Offered to get him out of the house — offered him free alcohol and a distraction. 

And he had agreed — if only to forget about you for a moment. Drinking was the only thing that made him forget — if he only could somehow forget how terrible alcohol tasted. 

His head spun, so was this a hangover? It’s certainly worse than the one he had before — the last one felt like his brain was fuzzy and nausea clawed at his stomach — this time, it felt more akin to someone taking a blender to both of those organs. And his neck, he stretched it both ways. How had he fallen asleep? 

And then he tried to lift up his hand to rub his eyes, and he couldn't, wrist straining against something — his brow furrowed, what was arm caught on — and his eyes fluttered open. It was dark — the only light came from another room, peeking through the crack at the bottom of, what he assumed was, a door. And then as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked at his arms. 

Ropes. Twisted around both his arms, binding his wrists and forearms to the arms of a chair, and his vision blurs — what? His legs jerk instinctively, but ropes dig into the flesh of his ankles, and he glanced down only to find what he expected. 

“You’re awake,” the light flicks on, he lifts his head, blinking away the fog in his head and the burning tears slipping from his eyes, “didn’t realize the drug would knock you out for that long,”

He blinks again and again, light flooding his eyes, until he can see and sees a familiar face — “Misaki?” the light sends a piercing jolt through his head, “or is it Yumiko?” 

“Well that’s flattering, you can’t even remember my name?” she sighs, crossing her arms, “well I unfortunately don’t have the same luxury,” and then she adds with a quirk of her lips, “it is Yumiko,” and she steps forward, as his eyes squeeze shut, his head still banging, “sorry what I gave you to knock you out can cause some light sensitivity,” 

It’s slowly sinking in, “I don’t know what kind of weird kink you have, but I’m not interested,” and she scoffs, pressing her knuckles to her chin, “where am I?” 

“Do you think I’m really going to tell you that?” she raises an eyebrow, “I did send you threats after all, you don’t think I’d be that stupid to tell you where I am,” 

He needed to buy time, he needed to find a way to get out of here, and to do that, he needed time, “What? Are you obsessed with me or something? Do you want my body?”

“I’m going to stop your overinflated ego there,” she sighs, leaning against a table that was behind her, “I have a debt to pay and you’re the price,” 

“Debt?” he repeats, “is this where you explain your whole plan? And villain speech? Because I usually I could care less, but I’m feeling a little generous with my time, as I’m a little tied up at the moment, so—” 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“It’s known to happen on occasion,” she rubs her temples, and then something occurs to him, “how did you get my address? You showed up and invited me,” 

She shakes his head, “You think I couldn’t find out your address after sending you threats?” and she sighs, “You know this is why I tried to do this at the first party — get it over with so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But then you crushed your beer cup, your little girlfriend got in the way, and that idiot Misaki accidentally switched her shot glass with yours, so I couldn’t get you dosed,” she grits her teeth, “and then the rest of the semester, your girlfriend was up your ass the entire time — but she wasn’t your girlfriend was she? She was your bodyguard,” he says nothing, “you don’t need to confirm it for me, I already found her information, her name, her address—” 

“What do you want? Money? My father will pay anything to get me back. Tell me who you need to repay and he’ll do it,” and her lips curl. 

“So serious now — and so cooperative, maybe I should have kidnapped her too while I was at it,” she shrugs, while she grabs her phone from the table — a burner — “my father will be here to escort you to where you need to go. The yakuza will take it from there,” his blood runs cold, “Don’t cause a fuss and i can promise your girlfriend will stay safe,” 

He grits his teeth — he was so stupid. This was exactly the kind of shit you were trying to protect him from. And it was the thing he landed himself in the moment you left. But he didn’t care — because it was better this way, because you were safe this way.

“Wow, you’re pretty cute when you’re all quiet,” and she’s walking over, and he’s flinching as she drags a manicured nail down his cheek, before tilting it up, “it’s just that mouth that’s a problem,” and her thumb brushes down his lips, “don’t bite, or we might have a problem,” 

And he doesn’t, but then he smiles back, “you might like it when I bite,” he smirks, “why don’t you come here and find out?” And she raises her eyebrows, leaning closer, and he smashes his forehead into hers, “fuck off,” 

She stumbles back, losing her balance, and leaning against the table as she clutches at her forehead. Satoru watches her, trying to wriggle out of his constraints, rope chafing against his skin, red welts rising on his skin, but he only manages to get one hand free before she’s starting to get her bearings, and then he’s trying to free himself, his chair tipping over. And now he’s lying helplessly as she stumbles forward over to him, clutching a knife she grabbed off the table. 

“I have to hand you over to the yakuza, but they didn’t say you had to be completely unharmed,” she presses the tip of the knife to his cheek, “maybe we’ll do something to that pretty face of yours,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 

CRACK. 

He hears a body slump over, and the clatter of the knife against the cement floor, and his eyes open to find you kneeling beside him. He’s blinking, murmuring your name, “What are you—” 

“Well I never did remove that tracker did I?”  You’re cutting the ropes on his wrists and ankles with the knife, “and I’m lucky you wear the same damn shoes everyday,” 

“Why did you come for me?” he says, as you finally free him his restraints, your fingers gentle as they examine the welts and bruises left on his skin, “you could have just told my father where I was or the police,” 

“I could’ve. I saw where you were and I figured it out—“ and your voice wavers, “but all I could think was that I wanted to find you. And I didn’t wanna wait for anyone else. I didn’t want something to happen just because someone else was too slow,” the lump in your throat grows only larger, as you sit, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” 

“Why?” he asks softly, his fingers brush against your cheek, and he knows why — he does, but he needs to hear it. 

“Because I just want…to be the one to protect you,” you admit, tears burning at your eyes, as your thumb traces over his rope burns and bruises, “I wish that I could have,” 

“You did a pretty good job, considering I almost was about to get my face cut up,” and he gently wipes your tears away, “imagine what a tragedy that would be,” 

You give a watery chuckle, cupping his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” and he opens his mouth, “no i really am. I shouldn’t have slept with you, only to cut and run after. I thought…I thought I was doing you a favor,” 

“How?” And you sigh, blinking away your tears. 

“I put your life in danger by doing that. I couldn’t do that. I knew the only way you’d let me go is…if I lied to you and said I didn’t care about you,” you bite your bottom lip, “and I’m sorry because I only hurt you more in the end,” 

He kisses your lips gently, chastely, his breath warming your lips as he parts from them, “you did,” and you scoff, pushing him playfully, “but as long as you promise not to do it again, I think I can find it in my incredibly generous heart to forgive you,” 

You kiss him again, softly, your fingers sliding to the back his neck, into his undercut, “I promise,” and he grins, before leaning back to kiss you again, when a cough behind you catches your attention. 

“My father will be getting here shortly you idiots, while you gaze fucking stupidly into each other’s eyes,” she sneers, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“You think I’d come here without calling the police? They already have picked up your father — and they should be almost here—“ and the sounds of an ambulance and police sirens come into earshot. 

“Good timing,” Satoru mutters, as Yumiko tries and fails to stumble to her feet, and you get up and pin her to the ground. Satoru raises an eyebrow, and watches, as you glance back at him, tilting your head in question, “nothing, it’s just…hot to see you in action,” 

You laugh, “Did she hit your head too?” And he shrugs, as he gets onto this feet with shaky legs, “Satoru—“ 

And he sits next to you, leaning on your shoulder, “just let me rest here for a minute,” he mumbles. 

For the first time since you left, Satoru felt like he could finally rest. 

And Satoru did rest, he realized as he blinked awake to the ambient sounds of the hospital room, the distinct beep of the heartbeat monitor, the dim light of the moon filtering through the shades, and the distant sounds of people walking through the hall. He hears the sounds of sheets rustling, and his gaze snaps over to his left. 

His gaze softens. You were fast asleep beside him, your arms tucked under your head, your breaths were soft, as they were the night you two had spent together. He sat himself up — fingers running through your hair gently. You had fallen asleep before him that night, face buried in the crook of his neck, and your legs entangled with his. And now you slept beside him on a chair, leaning on his bedside. 

His fingers carded through your hair again, and you stirred, as he swore under his breath, your eyes fluttered open, “Toru?” you mumbled, still half asleep, and he hummed. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighed softly, “why are you sleeping here? You should have gone home,” you sit up, stretching, as you furrow your brow, eyes scanning him for any sign of an injury or distress. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay — you were unconscious, but no concussion thankfully. I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t wake,” you sigh, words tumbling out almost faster than you can think of them, “they mostly kept you for observation, but are you feeling okay? Should I get the nurse—“ 

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you, as he sighs, burying his face in your neck, “I just want to stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, “I got everything I need right here, got it?” He feels you nod, and he feels the hint of your tears on his skin, but says nothing, only his lips quirk, “you did mean your promise?” 

“I did, I won’t leave like that again,” and he’s leaning back, head tilted, and you chuckle, “I mean I won’t leave you at all, how’s that?” 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, leaning closer, and his heart squeezes when he hears your breath hitch as he does. His eyes flicker to your lips and back, “can I kiss—“ 

But you kiss him first, softly, your fingers brushing his cheek, and god, why was it that a single touch from you melted him away to nothing? Whittled his world view to a pin where all he could feel, all he could see, was you. 

And then you kiss his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and then your teeth graze the soft part of his neck, drawing a pretty gasp from his lips, as you suck lightly on his skin. 

He’s whispering your name, breath sucked from his lungs as if your teeth had pierced through his throat instead of just his skin, “what was that for?” 

And you smile, “so everyone knows you’re mine.” 

“You’re changing your major?” Suguru raises his eyebrow, as he lounges on Satoru’s couch, holding his head up with his elbow propped against the top of the couch, “your father must’ve been thrilled about that,” 

“He lost his shit, but that geezer can fuck off,” Satoru shrugs, “he threatened to not pay my tuition, but once I threatened to go public with his dealings with the yakuza, he saw it my way,” 

Suguru tilts his head, “His what?” 

You bring over tea from the kitchen, placing it on the table, “After what Satoru found out from Yumiko and her father, their debt to the yakuza would have been paid off by kidnapping one of Satoru’s father’s close relatives, but I was wondering why was the yakuza so eager to do so?” 

“Apparently my old man had the brilliant idea of entertaining the yakuza on some deal he was making,” Satoru explains, leaning back on the couch, as you sit against his legs, “and when he backed out, the yakuza wanted to push it through anyway — and well, thus their blackmail of Yumiko’s father, once they found out his daughter went to school with me.” 

“Yeah, turns out her father had gambling debts owed to the yakuza,” you sighed, “she got caught in the crossfire — I almost feel bad,” 

“Speak for yourself, she drugged me, tied me to a chair, and held a knife to my face,” Satoru scoffs, sipping his tea that he had you drown in sugar. 

“Well you didn’t complain when I did that last night,” you reply, making both Satoru and Suguru choke, and you laughed, squealing when Satoru lifts you into his lap to bury his face into your back. 

“You two are officially sickening to be around,” Suguru grimaces, still coughing from choking down his tea, “I think I liked it better when he was wasting away in his apartment,” 

“You wasted away after I left?” You turn to look at Satoru, who shoots a glare at Suguru, “sorry Geto, that’s not happening again,” and Satoru softens his gaze, pressing a kiss to your head. 

“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving,” Suguru gets to his feet, as he glances back at you two, “don’t rush to get up, I’ll see myself out,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t worry we weren’t going to,” Satoru pulls you closer, and Suguru narrows his eyes, before his lips curl into a grin. 

“Just for that, I’m sending your girlfriend a picture of the mess you looked like when she left,” Satoru gapes at him, while you bite back a laugh. 

“Suguru!” Satoru calls, but the door’s shut, and you’re starting to giggle. He’s pouting now, “so my girlfriend thinks it's funny to see me in the pathetic state she left me in?” 

“Oh your girlfriend finds it very funny, and she might even make it her boyfriend’s contact picture,” you smirk, and he’s biting back a smile, “What?” 

“This is just the first time we called each other that,” he mumbles, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, “it’s nice,” he admits. 

“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” you smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips, as he would again and again. 

“My one and only.” 

✧ a/n: so this fic was so freaking long. i'm sorry it took so long to post this - i got a little sidetracked by prof geto haha. but i'm hoping to start on the next one soon :). i think i'll put a poll up on which one i should write next! edit: forgot to tag the people who requested this, its now added in T_T

✧ taglist: @teatreeoilll, @intrxspectiv, @marvel-fanaticz, @ilovemybabes, @lwustyz, @jayathelostdragon, @vampzys, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @soilmayo, @iwassentfromhell, @lobotomy-kaisen, @gojoallmine, @forest-hashira, @h3artpiecexx, @lailarratx, @gummibat, @hanlay, @ilovewoo9, @nvmlolo, @h6avenly, @eriyvesa, @alexandraioann4, @eclipsephase, @sokkasmoon, @aizzon, @makotome9, @daddytojji, @fluffy-pancakes01, @imjustmememe, @spookyy-gracee, @forest-fruits-jam, @that-goth-bisexual, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @lookinreality,

[theprettyarachnid]

logan going into heat would include

a/n: i’m not proud of what i’m doing but someone had to do it (also first time writing for him so be nice)

warnings/themes: nsfw, unestablished relationship, implied age gap

horny!logan who becomes 10x more brooding and aggressive, especially towards people who piss him off

horny!logan who can’t help but think of the irredeemable things he wants to do to you every time he looks at you

horny!logan who tries his hardest to stay away from you but for whatever reason you always happen to find yourself right next to him

horny!logan who goes into the woods to jack off because the walls in his room aren’t thick enough to block out the animalistic sounds that come out of his mouth

horny!logan who cums to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick

horny!logan who finds your smell intoxicating and has to readjust his pants before you notice the growing boner

horny!logan who thinks about taking you to a private place just to bend you down and fuck you senseless

horny!logan who starts noticing your fast glances

horny!logan who flirts and makes you smile with his dry sense of humor

horny!logan who has to hold himself back when you laugh and place a hand on his muscular arm

horny!logan who dreams about the noises you possibly make when you’re getting eaten out and fucked

horny!logan who shares his whiskey with you when it’s late and you’re alone with each other

horny!logan who stops you from kissing him because you’re drunk even though all he wants is to kiss you

horny!logan who tries to make you feel less embarrassed by telling you that you don’t want to kiss an ‘old man’ like him

horny!logan who knows that it was right but still hates that he stopped you

horny!logan who needs to jack off that night to let off some steam

horny!logan who makes you talk to him after ignoring him the whole morning

horny!logan who has to listen to your apology

horny!logan who tells you to shut up when you begin to ramble and chuckles at the look you give him

horny!logan who painfully explains that he was actually flattered and would’ve kissed you back if you weren’t drunk

horny!logan who tries to back track when you don’t respond only for you to kiss him on the cheek

horny!logan who frowns while you smile at him

horny!logan who grabs your hand and leads you to his room so he can fuck you until you’re begging for him to stop

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[roturo]

⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!

tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.

A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED

How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?

And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport. 

Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.

He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.

“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”

Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.

“Are you okay, Gojo?...”

“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”

A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well. 

“Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hard right now?”

Silence. 

“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”

Sex- what?! 

Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.

Knock. Knock. 

No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?

He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.

“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”

So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.

It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.

“G-Gojo…?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you. 

“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”

His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.

A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.

“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”

Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.

“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”

His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.

You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.

Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.

Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.

His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.

And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.

“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”

The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.

“Will you please let me fuck you?”

A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.

His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it. 

“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”

Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.

Oh.

He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure. 

You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.

“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so  fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.

Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?

You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.

“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”

He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?

How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?

Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?

“Ah- shit baby.”

You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.

You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.

And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.

[realcube]

HQ MEN AS YOUR BOSS ...with chemistry

characters ♡ oikawa, tsukishima, iwaizumi & kenma

tags/cw ♡ vaginal, dad!oikawa, implied virginity loss, breeding // degredation, dacryphilia // age gap, power imbalance // oral (giving), monetary incentive — minors dni! (sfw ver.)

♡ OIKAWA

needing a babysitter while his ex-wife is out of town and he has to go to training, oikawa is given a recommendation by his teammate. that is how you end up in his massive house by the ocean, watching his kids. before he left, he promised that if you did a good job, he'd give you the tip. you assume he simply misphrased that sentence — spanish isn't his first language, after all — but you soon realise he meant exactly what he said.

he gave you a lot more than just the tip, though. his whole length pierces into you, while your fingers try to grasp at the smooth, polished surface of the kitchen island counter he has you bent over. a futile attempt at coping with the furious billow of bliss he sends sweeping through you.

his rough grip on your waist; his hand tangled in your hair, pushing your face against the cold marble; the way he avoids moaning your name because he doesn't remember it. you know he's only using you for his own pleasure and to be able to brag to his teammates that he fucked the hot babysitter senseless in his kitchen last night while the kids were down. young and tight — maybe even a virgin — but he had the honour of pounding into your chaste pussy, using you as his personal cumdump.

"good girl." he groans through gritted teeth, relief rushing through him as he spills his seed inside you. he fucks you through his high, making your body shake with each sloppy thrust. only faltering when he notices his actions cause some of his cum to leak out of you. with his finger, he guides it back into your hole. he smirks at the implications of what he has just done, and leans down to whisper coarsely in your ear, "maybe if you get pregnant, i'll let you come live here with me. how does that sound?"

he smacks your ass and you yelp, at which he laughs.

♡ TSUKISHIMA

working for a strict boss like tsukishima at the museum was a lot of pressure. he watches you like hawk, piercing eyes burning a hole through you, waiting for you to mess up or do something slightly wrong so he can yell at and reprimand you. all your co-workers brush it off as him being a mean guy, since it's true he is like that with everyone, but they can't see how much harsher he is with you.

that's only because tsukishima is very strategic when it comes to you. he only tells you off when the staff lounge is empty; he'll sabotage your work relationships so they won't care that he makes you stay late; he makes rude quips about your 'slutty outfits' only when nobody else is around to hear. after he screams at you for the exhibits being dirty and demand you clean them, he corners you in the janitor's cupboard and locks the door.

tears stream down your face, some drip onto the ground while others are soaked up by the cement wall tsukishima has your cheek pressed up against while he takes you from behind. with one hand up your skirt, fondling your ass. the other placed on your hip, which he moves to wipe away your tears roughly with the back of his hands.

"stop crying." his cock batters your aching walls, while you squirm against him, a feeble attempt to position yourself so his tip brushes your g-spot. though, he puts a swift end to this by clamping his hand down on your hips. "if didn't want me to yell at you, then don't be fuckin' hopeless." he stammers out through groans. "should be grateful i've found a use for you. so be quiet an take it like a decent whore."

♡ IWAIZUMI

an a student of sport science, you're very lucky that one of the best athletic trainers in the business agreed to take you on as an apprentice. you both get along very well too; iwaizumi can be strict at times but you can tell it's because he really cares and wants you to succeed.

when he's not actively training you, he's still very kind. you both joke around some and he's always making small talk, you even learned that he used to be a volleyball player and he's friends with a couple pros! beyond that though, you never notice how his gaze lingers when you're demonstrating stretches; how he 'coincidentally' asks you to stay late for practise on days you're wearing a low cut top; and how he always keeps an ear out for your small — but sweet — whimpers of struggle as you tidy up the weights and dumbbells.

his eyes have been on you ever since you started work for him, but things only change the day he takes of his shirt while cleaning up, and you happen finally realise how hot he is. from there, it's impossible for you to keep your hands off, and he feels the same. next thing you know, he has you sprawled out on the gym floor, laying into you in missionary.

it's been a long day of training and he's already exhausted but he still gives it to you with everything he has, and more. his firm dick lowers in to you while your walls cling to him, swallowing him up. your arms are daped around his shoulders to stable yourself while his hips smash against yours, and from the sheer mix of pain and pleasure, your nails dig into his skin. not that he minds, it's all muscle back there, anyway.

he likes giving it to you rough. not that he wants to wreck that pretty pussy of yours too badly; it needs to be enjoyable enough that'll your beg him for another round. but he likes the way your tits bounce when he thrusts hard enough, it's an even better sight than you doing starjumps. one that he'll never get enough of.

♡ KENMA

being a stock-trader, ceo, pro-gamer and youtuber is all really hard work so of course kenma requires a personal assistant. when you show up for the interview, he instantly knows you're the one, but he doesn't want to give you such a heavy workload. therefore, he hires two people: he hands the other person all the difficult stuff, and leaves you free. all you need to do is stand about and look pretty. he never said that aloud, but it was made obvious when one of the jobs he gave you was to come into his office and paint your nails. and of course, being the diligent employee you are, you followed his orders.

it didn't take long for him to start experiencing 'favouritism' accusations but they were promptly shut down by a simple 'yes, and?' from kenma. any person with half a brain can tell how much special treatment you receive, he would be foolish to try to deny it.

but it's all worth it. you're like his gorgeous doll, his prized possession, it's his responsibilty to treat you with all the care and love you deserve. he didn't even want anything in return for it, getting to see you every day was reward enough. but when you come in to his office requesting a raise, that's when the negotiation begins.

your lips swell around his cock, having been going at it for so long, but he urges you to continue in his muted, whiny voice. he relaxes in his chair, head tossed back in pleasure while you work on his cock, bobbing your head up and down on it. "s' good.." he grumbles, hand finding it's way to your cheek.

his thumb brushes against your skin while your tongue rubs his length. he tastes umami and strong. cock so long that even when you go down on him, you can't reach the base, and the back of your mouth hurts from trying. but he grips your chin and lifts your face so you can meet his sultry gaze. amused by how cute you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, he rasps, "there's a twenty thousand yen bonus if you deepthroat."

[macmillerxluvr]

♪ - i can feel the way you feel for me this is my playpen borderline thinking like barbie baby can you play ken?

SUGAR DADDY KENJI SATO

HEAD CANNONS

• kenji buys you a gold diamond chain with the letter k bold and center so when he’s taking you your tits are bouncing with the chain, marking you as his further more along with the amount of hickeys that he leaves all around your body

• he always provides you with the best of everything and regularly sends you cash through you phone typically sending you a message for you to buy something sexy for him to rip off later that night

• there’s an obvious age gap between you both but kenji doesn’t seem to mind that fact that you’re younger than him since he is only 26 and a 7 year age gap isn’t necessarily the worst, and he definitely doesn’t seem to mind when he’s impaling you with his 9 inch dick

• he insist on cumming in you, every time you guys fuck he always make sure that every last drop of his seed is inside your fucked pussy by continuously thrusting it into you even after climaxing

• the first time you both had sex together he was not even half way inside of you before you were telling him how much it hurts and that he’s too big, so he simply chuckled before sliding himself fully in making you screech as he pierced inside your throbbing cunt

• every 2 weeks he sends you cash for you to get you nails and feet done, on the condition that the nude base color is the color of his tip or his initial is somewhere on your nail

• you’ve both at least broken 3 beds in total from kenji thrusting and pounding into you so vigorously

• doesn’t matter when doesn’t matter where kenji is fucking you wherever and whenever, the shower? done it multiple times, the driveway? loud and proud, he owns the land around it and no neighbors for miles, his office? doggy style on the desk and chair with cum everywhere and at midnight? sometimes he gets home late and just want to snuggle his dick deep in your warm asleep cunt, so he does

• even though he insists there’s nothing of a relationship sorts going on between you both, he still damn well makes you be at every single one of his games cheering him on and after sucking him off as well as a reward for winning

• he will supply you with infinite amount of plane b’s or get you on birth control (for now before he decides to bby trap you)

• if it weren’t for him living so far away and alone the police would probably pull up for noises complaint because of how loud your moans and chanting are as he fucks you silly into the mattress

• will either punish you buy fingering the fuck out of consistency and stopping before you can cum or tucking a large vibrator inside your pussy on the highest mode and forcing you to not cum till your sobbing begging to be able to cum

• anything you want kenji can give it to you in a blink of an eye, as long as your eyes stay on him and not closed as he plows roughly inside of you making you grip onto the cum stained black silk bedsheets

• other than his clear breeding kink he also has a size kink, so when he’s thrusting inside you or in missionary what seems to mostly send the both of you over the edge is him pressing on the tummy bulge inside of you that his large cock created

• when in public sometimes he just has to relieve himself inside of you so he usually pulls you to the bathroom and rolls your panties to the side as you try not to squirm as he forces himself inside your pulsating pussy

• at first it took a while for you to get used to kenji length but now your pussys grown tolerant the pain for the pleasure as he fills you up till the very brim with his dick

• sometimes when he truly wants to savor you without you stopping him, he ties your hands up on headboard and legs tied up to either side of the bed and eats you out till your moans and screams are heard by all of tokyo and fucks you up til as many rounds as he can milk himself out in, or till your legs are shaking (which is mostly after the 5 round)

• when he bought you the car that you kept on talking about the first thing he did once he bought it was fuck you mercilessly in the back seats to claim you inside of it before anyone else enters it

• rarely but occasionally he’s sub and he’s in utter agony not being able to touch you as his hands are now tied along with his legs as you ride him til you both see stars but with every little moan or noise you make it’s all heard by him along with the sound of your thighs clashing together and the wet sounds your pussy makes, being like music to his ears making it seemingly worth it

• he often surprises you with trips and to fancy suites and airbnb’s where you’ll both just end up fucking all throughout the trip

• he makes you suck his cock til he’s at least cummed 3 times or til tears are flowing down your eyes, drools slipping out your mouth and til he hears you gag which is given on the girth and thickness of his dick

• kenji as well bought you your own huge penthouse (though you could’ve easily bought yourself considering you were a well known model) in which he installed a soundproof barrier around so when you guys have sex it’s aloud as you’d both like without causing issues

• whenever your around him he requires you to wear skirts for easy access so at any given moment he can simply slip your black lacy little panties from inside you mini skirt down your pedicured legs easily giving him your pretty little cunt out on display for him to toy and fuck with

[thevillainswhore]

A Forbidden Invitation

Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne

“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 

It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.

You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 

“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”

Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 

Oh no. The puppy eyes.

“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 

The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 

“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 

The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“

“Becca!” 

“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 

“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 

She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”

The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 

The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 

Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.

Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”

You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 

Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 

However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 

The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 

So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 

In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 

You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 

The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 

Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 

Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 

Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 

If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 

Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 

Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 

You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 

The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 

With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 

“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 

Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 

But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 

The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 

Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 

The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 

“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  

The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 

His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 

Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 

“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 

You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 

The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.

“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 

You did do anything he asked. 

You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 

Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 

Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 

You were aching for him. 

With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 

Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”

“Babe!” 

Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 

You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 

Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 

The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 

Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 

Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 

Who the fuck was this girl? 

Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 

You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.

The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 

Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 

Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 

With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 

“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.

But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 

Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 

Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 

You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 

Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 

However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 

I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 

I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 

Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 

J.B.B.

“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 

You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 

Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 

“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 

You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 

“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 

Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 

“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 

The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 

“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 

Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 

Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.

The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  

But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 

That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 

Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 

Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 

Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 

But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 

As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.

You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 

You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 

Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 

You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  

As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 

You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 

Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 

But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 

Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.

You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 

The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 

Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”

Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.

He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 

Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 

Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”

“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 

It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 

Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 

Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 

Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  

You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 

“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 

“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 

“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 

When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 

You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 

An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 

You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 

Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 

The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 

Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 

Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.

“I see you’re working hard.” 

Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  

The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 

It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 

He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 

“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 

“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 

Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“

“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 

“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 

A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.

His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 

You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 

“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 

The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 

“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 

“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 

“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 

“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 

“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 

Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 

Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.

Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 

His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”

“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 

Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 

Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  

You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 

It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 

For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.

Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”

Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 

You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 

“Dad! Where are you?” 

Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 

It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 

You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 

“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 

This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 

But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 

Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 

You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 

After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.

Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 

“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 

“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 

Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 

You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 

“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”

But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 

The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 

Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.

“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 

You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.

It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 

However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 

The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 

The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 

Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  

Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 

You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.

But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 

Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.

“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 

Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 

Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 

You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 

A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 

“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 

“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 

You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 

“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 

“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.

Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 

The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 

“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 

You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.

A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 

“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 

Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 

Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”

Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”

His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 

“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 

Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 

You so desperately wanted to feel special. 

Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 

The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 

You were so fucking tired. 

The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 

Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 

The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 

Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?

Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 

Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 

With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 

He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 

The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 

He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 

Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 

His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 

Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 

“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 

You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 

Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 

Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”

Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 

The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 

“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 

The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 

“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 

You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 

You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 

Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 

He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 

Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 

“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 

Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 

“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”

Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 

Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 

While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 

Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 

The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 

“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”

You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 

“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 

The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 

“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 

It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 

Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 

You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 

Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 

His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 

The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 

Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 

You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 

But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 

You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 

Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 

“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 

“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 

Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 

“Yes! Please!” you cried. 

Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 

You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 

Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 

His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 

“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 

Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 

“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”

Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 

His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 

With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 

“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 

“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 

“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 

Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 

His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 

“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 

“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  

You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”

But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 

You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 

“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 

Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 

Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 

You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 

His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 

“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 

You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 

Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 

“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 

“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 

You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 

“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 

You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 

You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 

“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 

“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 

“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 

“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.

Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 

Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 

You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 

An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 

But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 

You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 

“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 

“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 

It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 

Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 

Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 

A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 

“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 

Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 

Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 

A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 

You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 

But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 

[nanaslutt]

i have another toji idea but this time he’s your bodyguard!

readers dad is a really rich businessman or something and reader is basically serena van der woodsen! she’s always out partying doing drugs and sleeping around so her dad hires toji to keep close eye on her. she’s not happy about it obviously!

reader is in college and toji is like i dont know in his late 30s!!

Bodygaurd!Toji x RichBrat!Reader

contains: fem reader, legal age gap, drug use, non con/dub con (not from Toji), voyeurism, exhibitionism, choking, dacraphillia, restraints, rough sex, so much dirty talk, daddy kink (sorry), teasing, sexual tension, brat taming, multiple orgasms, size kink, Toji has a big dick and knows what aftercare is :3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

The club music around the two men was blaring, Toji could feel a headache coming on. "That her?" Toji asked, pointing to a girl who was laughing at some college boy's joke by the bar, swatting his arm playfully. "She's uh.. that one there." Your father spoke, almost too quietly to be heard under the music. He pointed to you, you who were currently adorned in a skimpy black nightgown-esc dress, the fabric being pulled over the curve of your ass and exposing your lacy black thong without a care in the word to the room around you as you sat on a boy's lap, ruffling his hair as you sucked on his tongue, his hands leading your hips as he ground you down on top of him.

Toji turned his head back to your father, an unreadable expression on his face. Your dad held up his hands in the air, waving them in front of him. "S-shes a good girl really, just a little.. misguided." He said defensively. You loved your father, he was the only man in your life who acctually cared about you and didnt use you for your status or body. The two of you had a wonderful relationship, the only problem was you were an only child, and your mom had died early on in your life, resulting in him spoiling you a little too much.

So when you started acting out, wearing skimpier clothes, doing drugs, staying out late, frequenting parties, and bringing a new stranger home to fuck on his couch every night, you didn't exactly take to his words telling you to 'maybe calm down' in the best way. It's not like he had been strict about it when he talked to you, he had been very sweet and understanding when you said you were 'going through something'. Your father's lack of disciplinary skills combined with how much love he had for you and the constant mindset to always keep his sweet little girl happy had resulted in your behavior getting worse and worse.

Which is where Toji came in. You had just finished up a new photoshoot for a major modeling brand and it had brought you even more attention than you had been getting before, meaning you were going out more, and frequently engaged in unsafe sex and use of drugs. Your father couldn't stand to see you like this, so he hired you a body guard without consulting you first, someone he had worked with in the past, someone he knew wouldn't take your shit, because he sure as hell wasn't going to stop you.

Toji stayed quiet, watching your body sway and move in a way that was clear to him you were under the influence of something. The man beneath you looked too sober, and the way he had started to manhandle your drugged out body made his eye twitch. Toji had known you since you were a kid, he started doing business with your dad when he turned seventeen, and he saw you around sometimes too, although you looked quite different back then. "Do whatever you have to do, I just cant stand to see my little girl like this." Your father said, placing his hand on Toji's shoulder before he checked the time on his expensive wristwatch, clicking his teeth.

"I have to go, please don't leave her side, don't let her bring anyone home, and don't let anything enter her mouth that isn't food or water, alright? I'll be back in a week." When your dad had mentioned not letting you ingest anything that wasn't food and water—referring to substances—he couldn't help but think that might include other people's genitals too. He just had a hunch from the way you had started to palm at the man's crotch underneath you. "Right, is it alright if I use force if I gotta?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

"Yeah that's.. that's fine.." Your dad answered hesitantly. Toji averted his gaze from you, turning his head to look at your father, he smiled. "Have a good trip, sir, Don't worry about your daughter, I'll stick around and whip her into shape for as long as you need me to." He reassured, before starting off in your direction.

Upon closer inspection, he could see your eyes were all out of focus, you looked like you didn't even know what was going on around you as the blond-haired boy roughly kissed your neck, starting to slide his hands down your ass, slipping his fingers underneath your panties. God, you really did look so much different from when he used to watch you lay on your stomach on the floor of your living room, watching your cartoons.

This new look didn't suit you quite as much, white powder on the table in front of you, girls and guys alike touching your skin wherever they could get in, drinks scattered around you, your bra peeking out of your dress as the strap slipped down your shoulder, your eyes rolled back in your head. He doubted you even knew the name of the man who was marking your neck. Hell, he doubted you knew any of the people around you. The people around you were too high off their asses to even notice Toji's presence as he stood right behind you, he was so close he could practically feel the heat radiating off your skin.

The boy under you looked up at him, pulling his lips away from your neck. "You wanna taste, get in line old man, 's how this shit works." He giggled, talking about you like you were some disposable inanimate tool. Toji grit his teeth, grabbing the boy's hand and stopping it before he could dip it any lower in your panties. "She's not even fucking here right now, you don't see anything wrong with that?" He asked, referring to how high you were. The boy was taken aback at Toji's sheer strength, "What the- let go of me man-" He tried yanking his hand away from Toji, but to no avail.

"Look- she fucking loves it its fine, ain't that right baby~" He asked, grinning as he took his other hand to grab your jaw, nodding it forcefully. You smiled drunkenly, your eyes all out of focus as he manhandled your head. "Alright, I've seen enough." Toji sighed, leaning down he picked you up with ease from underneath your arms and threw you over his shoulder, your ass being exposed even more—if that was even possible.

"What the fuck~" You slurred, eyes trying to focus on the constantly moving ground underneath you as Toji kept one hand on the small of your back, walking you out of the building. You felt dizzy and sick, the music was too loud, but you still felt the need to kick and scream at the man who was taking you away from the chaos. "Who the fuck are you? 'was fuckin' doing something back there.." You slurred, weakly struggling in his grip.

Toji stayed silent until he reached the exit, pushing the heavy wood open he took in the cool air of the night, the ice-cold oxygen feeling refreshing in both of your lungs. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, shooting a quick text to one of your drivers who was nearby to pick the two of you up, ignoring your 'hey- answer me''s in the backround. He slipped the device back into his pocket, plopping you down on the ground in front of him, making sure to keep a hand on your waist to insure you didn't fall over.

"Was it you I was kissing?" You asked, squinting your eyes at him as you leaned in, standing on your tippy toes you placed your hands on his solid chest to try to get a good look at his face. "I don't think he had black hair.." you slurred, losing your balance on your tippy toes, and falling back onto flat feet. Thanks to Toji's grip you didn't fall flat on your ass. "You don't even care do you?" He asked incredulously, keeping his tone steady as he let you grope his chest.

Toji took the opportunity to fix your appearance up a bit, pulling the strap of your dress back atop your shoulder so your bra was fully covered again; not like it made a huge difference thanks to how low the dress was, but he still wanted to give you some dignity; he used his large hands to slide down your waist, smoothing out your dress so it rested on your thighs once more as it should. His touch felt so good, it was a lot softer than the touches from the college boy's inside, you could work with this.

"Mmm, not really." You smiled up at him, biting your lip between your teeth as you looked him up and down. "You takin' me home to fuck me?" You mumbled, giving him a doped-out grin. "Not exactly." He replied. Seconds after, the car approached, and out came another middle-aged man who walked to the curbside and opened the door for the both of you. Toji held your waist as he walked you towards the open door. You stopped in your tracks, holding the top of the car door when you got close enough to see the driver's face.

You looked at him closely, narrowing your eyes. "Wait.. you're my driver.. why are you here? I'm not going home yet," you said confused, tuning your body to look between the two men. "Yes, you are," Toji replied, using a strong hand to manipulate your weak body as he pressed your shoulder down, pushing you into the car. "No- no wait- what the fuck? You said you were gonna fuck me." You slurred, watching the blurry picture of Toji slide into the car after you, the driver slamming it slut promptly.

Toji gripped your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, "Don't think your dad would like it very much if I fucked his daughter while she was high on coke." You blinked at him, trying to make the fuzziness in your vision go away, "'m not on coke, it's jus' molly, and why the fuck are you bringing up my dad?" You asked, trying to jerk your head away from his hand. "Your father hired me to be your personal cockblock, hope you're ready for rehab," Toji smirked, releasing your face as he bucked you into the seat, your body jolting when the driver pulled out into the street and started driving the two of you home.

—

You woke up with a headache, stomachache— honestly it would take longer to list what wasn't aching in your body. You groaned, stretching your limbs under your own sheets as you tried to wake yourself up. Wait, these are my sheets? How did I get home last night? you wondered. "Fuck.. water." You sat up, sitting on your ass as you curled your legs up to your chest, laying your forehead on your knees. Your throat was dry- like you had been stranded in the dryest desert for months, you tried to swallow, but it just felt like swallowing sandpaper. You didn't care as much about how you got home, too focused on trying not to throw up as you tried to gather the strength to stand.

You always regretted the morning after you went so hard like a night like the last. You always felt like a shell of yourself the morning after, no amount of drugs or sex could make that feeling go away until the next night, but it wasn't awful enough for you to break this little cycle you had going. "Need some water?" A voice rang in your ears, making your body jolt as you held your hand over your chest, scooting back on the bed as you looked in the direction of the voice to the large figure standing in your doorway.

A tall, balck haired and well build man who looked to be around your dad's age walked into your room holding a glass of water, you swore he looked familiar but you couldn't pinpoint where you had seen him before. You sighed, chalking it up to another unwanted one-night stand who had overstayed their welcome, although you didn't quite feel sore down there.. maybe his dick was just small? It's not like you could remember if you tried anyways. "Don't you know you're not supposed to hang around after we fuck? It's called a one-night stand for a reason." You said sharply, rubbing your temples with your fingers.

"Good thing we didn't fuck." Toji smirked, flipping on your light switch, making your face scrunch up in displeasure. You had no time to be confused when the light hit your eyes, making your headache worsen tenfold as you hid your face in your knees once again, pulling the sheets over your head. "Dude, what the fuck! Turn that shit off." You yelled, your voice coming to him muffled as you spoke into the sheets. "Its almost 2pm, you're not going to rot in bed all day, promised your dad I would take care of you, so get up." He said, uncrossing his arms as he started towards you, setting the water down on the bedside table as he stood at the side of your mattress, looking down at you.

His words made a flashback shoot through your brain, one of last night, the two of you in a car together, and this man had just told you he was your bodyguard. You turned your head to the side, squinting your eye at him as you tried to gauge if he looked like the same man in your flashback--unfortunately for you, he did. "Fuuuuuuuuuck." You groaned, half of the word being muffled when you turned your head back to your knees. "Remember me now, princess?" He asked, his deep, usually soothing voice meeting your ears in a grating, annoying way.

You pick your head up, giving him the best snarky smile you could manage while your body fought with the aftereffects of what you did to it last night. "You really think you're gonna stop me from doing what I want?" You raised your eyebrow challengingly at him, keeping your eyes on his darker ones. "I'm not as nice as your daddy, so yes, I do." He said, ripping the comforter off of your frame he grabbed your ankle and yanked you towards him on the bed, your night shorts and t-shirt he had dressed you in last night riding up, showing more of your thighs and midriff.

You stared at him in disbelief, your chest heaving at the sudden manhandling. "Don't touch me." You yanked your foot out of his grip and sat up, sliding off the bed hastily you made quick work of walking past the man, towards the bathroom. Toji winced when you slammed the door shut to the bathroom behind you, the sound echoing through the entire house, he was sure even the neighbors heard it. He sighed, sitting down on your bed, his big hand coming to rub his forehead in annoyance. "He better be paying me fucking good to put up with his little brat," Toji mumbled under his breath.

When his hand dropped into his lap, his vision was unobstructed once more, and under the illumination of the bright lights above your bed, and the absence of your presence distracting him, he could clearly see the bag of white pills on your dresser. "Jesus christ.." Toji whispered, his lip curling in disgust. He stood, pocketing the bag of substances to promptly flush down the toilet later. Something in the back of his head was telling him to check in your bedside table.

The man didn't exactly have the strongest morals, so he didn't think much of going through a college junkie girl's drawer. Just as he expected, when he pulled the drawer open he found three bright orange pill bottles, all labeled with different names. With a curt laugh, he pocketed those as well, he would make sure they were delt with appropriately. Once the drugs were in his pocket, he noticed the bright pink vibrator next to them, along with a baby blue dildo, some condoms he doubted you used, and panties with the crotch cut out.

He laughed, "Your good girl is actually pretty naughty.." He said under his breath, directed to your father. He didn't want to look too long, not because he was afraid of you finding out, he was sure you were going to the moment you came back in here, looking for something to take your pain away from the day before. He didn't want to look too long because he didn't want to imagine his boss's daughter sprawled out on her bed, legs wide as one hand pinched her nipples and the other used the vibrator on her sensitive little clit through the gape in the crotchless panties.

He heard the shower turn on, snapping him out of his thoughts as he shut the drawer, averting his gaze as he did so. He flicked the lights off in your room as he left, making his way down to the living room where your chef was preparing your breakfast, rich people. The old woman behind the counter who was cooking something that smelled devine, looked happy to be there though. He knew how genuinely nice your father was, and he figured you must've treated them with the same kindness for them to stick around.

He must've been sitting on the couch watching the old woman cook for quite some time because your figure emerged from the hallway leading into the open room, adorned in nothing but skimpy panties and a tank top. You were ruffling your hair in a pink towel, trying to dry it the best you could before you discarded the towel on the floor and jumped up on the expensive-looking bar stool in front of the kitchen. You sat on your knees, your ass poking out towards Toji, he watched as you twisted back and forth on the chair, showing off your body like you wanted him to see.

He was grateful you had come down here in a better mood than before, you must've not checked your empty dresser drawer yet. "Good morning" You spoke kindly to the old woman, to which she replied her own 'good morning' with a smile. He liked seeing you like this, this was the you he recognized. He could barely tell you were the same person who was letting yourself get manhandled on the lap of a stranger in the middle of a disgusting club high on drugs.

Toji just couldn't help but break the peacefulness of the morning with his deep voice, "Where are your clothes?" He asked, "You have company." You sighed, sitting your butt down on the stool you brought your foot up on the cushion, resting your chin on your knee as you tipped your head as you looked at him. "You're just my handler, right? So why are you talking right now?" Your face was scrunched in disdain, the girl from last night making an appearance, he had a hard time telling which of the two of you was real.

"Just sayin' it's unbecoming for a young lady like you to have your ass out so shamelessly." Toji retorted. "This is my house, I'll do whatever I want old man." You bit back, spinning around as the chef pushed your plate towards you, the colors of the different foods on your plate stimulating your brain that was dulled from last night's drugs. "Oh ma'am, I would be lost without you." You whispered to the chef, placing your hand ontop of her wrinkled one gratefully. You thought the conversation between you and your babysitter was over, so you were shocked when you felt his chest bump against your back, his large hand reaching over yours to grab the other plate the woman had made for him.

"Your daddy spoiled you too much, now you're just a stuck-up brat. You should listen to your elders y'know?" Toji scolded. His voice sent goosebumps down your spine, maybe this could be something, you always did love a good hatefuck. The warmth of his chest was gone as soon as it came as he took the plate back to the sofa, kicking his legs up on the coffee table as he started shoveling the food into his mouth sloppily. "When you stop treating me like a kid, I might." You answered, keeping your back to him to he couldn't see the blush that had spread across your face.

The two of you ate in silence, you were the first to get up, walking your plate over to the sink to clean the food off, when your phone started buzzing on the counter. You abandoned the plate in the sink, walking back over to see who was calling. Toji watched your eyes light up as you answered the phone, probably some college boy you were fucking with at the moment had called you to hook up. It was the middle of the day, students these days were relentless. "Tonight? Send me the address and I'll be there~" You cooed into the receiver.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize you had just been invited out to another party. Toji acted quickly, when you faced your body away from him, leaning against the fridge as you listened to the boy speak, Toji appeared behind you once again, snatching your phone out of your hand, "No she won't." Toji spoke for you, letting him know you would absolutely not be going to any parties under his watch before hanging up the phone. "Stop fucking doing that!" You yelled, your body jolting in surprise as you turned around, glaring at the man just inches from you.

You grabbed his wrist that was holding your phone, with your other you ripped the device out of his hand before digging your sharp nail into his chest and giving him a death stare from under your lashes. "Touch what belongs to me again Ill-" "You'll what? Fire me? Your pretty drugged-up brain keeps forgetting your daddy hired me?" He smirked, crossing his bulging biceps over his chest. You took a step back, shaking your head. "You won't tell me what to do, fucking watch." You spat, walking off to your room. Toji brushed it off as an empty threat, what could you possibly accomplish when he was watching your every move like a hawk?

When you reached the comfort of your bedroom you slammed the door shut, hoping Toji would hear from his place downstairs. Who the fuck was he to come into your life and order you around? And your dad had hired him too? Seriously? These old men needed to stop fucking intervening with you, you didn't need any help. After that thought ran through your head you made a path straight for your drawer, looking for a pill or two to at least make you feel like you weren't cooped up at home if you couldn't actually leave.

Curling your fingers around the handle you pulled it open and- what the fuck? The familiar orange bottles you kept next to your sex toys were nowhere to be seen. Even on your most fucked up nights you had never neglected to put the bottles back where they belonged in your drawer. There was only one person who could've done this. "OLD MAN!!" Toji heard your voice echo, your footsteps getting louder as you marched angrily into the living room. A grin spread across his face when your figure came into view, his feet still kicked up on the coffee table as he barely spared you a glance before he went back to watching his show.

"Do you really not know my name, or are you just being a brat?" Toji asked, keeping his eyes on the screen. You were fuming, you had spent your hard-earned money on those (not like you had a shortage of cash or anything, but you hated your drug guy, he was so pushy and not at all cute.) "Toji, you had no right to go through my drawers like that, seriously, you're more fucked up than you think I am!" You yelled, your face growing hot, veins pumping with adrenaline. Toji decided you were worth the time of day, tilting his head back against the couch cushion he looked at you.

"Your daddy said I could do whatever I wanted, he also said to keep all that nasty shit out of your pretty little body, so that's exactly what I'm going to do." He replied, raising his eyebrows as he looked you up and down, pausing on your crotch, still only clad in those skimpy panties he couldn't stand. You blushed at him calling your body pretty, his words making your brain forget its track of thought for a moment. "W-what I put inside me isn't any of your business." You retorted, placing your hand on your hip.

"It is when your father specifically tells me it is." Toji laughed. "If you want something inside you so bad why don't you put those toys to use? That'll give you some kinda high for sure." Your face heat up even more. You figured he had seen your toy stash in the process of him throwing your pills away, but you didn't think he was going to use them against you like this. "Did my dad tell you to harass me like this too? Fucking pervert." You spat. "You're calling me a pervert when you're walking around in front of me with just those little panties on? There practically fucking see-through."

You were feeling hot in a different place now. You still wanted to punch him so hard he threw up, but another part of you wanted to climb over the cough and straddle his hips, pull his cock out and sit on it, letting him fuck you dumb. You'd never fucked someone his age before, it sounded fun, you bet he had loads more experience than the college guys you were sleeping with. "Why are you looking?" You retorted, your voice losing its edge. "Don't you want me to?" Toji replied. The two of you kept your eyes on one another, the air around you thick, making it hard to breath as neither one of you dared to break the eye contact.

The doorbell ringing snapped you out of it, both of your heads turning to look at the massive entrance doors. Toji stood to get it, but you beat him to it, running over to the door. "I got it." You told him. He stood behind the sofa, watching you open the door in your slutty attire. Pulling open the door, a handsome man around your age came into view, his arms sticking out for a hug as he stepped inside. "Absolutely not," Toji spoke, making haste for the door to shove him out. "Relax, do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Toji raised his eyebrows like you knew what he was going to say, before he crossed his arms and let you finish.

"He's gay, nothing is going to happen. You won't let me go to this fucking party, and I am not staying here alone with you all day." You hissed. The boy behind you nodded, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. Toji stayed quiet for a while, the boy hadn't said or done anything yet to contrast your words, so even though he was hesitant, he stepped aside, letting the two of you pass as you held his hand and dragged him in the direction of your room. He heard you giggle as you pulled him along with you, his eyes squinting before he shook off the feeling, finding his place once more on the comfortable sofa.

—

About an hour had passed since the boy had arrived and he hadn't heard anything suspicious yet. For having such a massive and expensive home, you sure had some thin fucking walls. Toji was starting to doze off, his show having long ended and now some drama had taken its place, droning on in the background. His eyes were fluttering shut, arms crossed over one another, and that’s when he heard it.

“Ahh!” His eyes shot open, scanning around the room as he tried to figure out if what he heard had been a figment of his imagination or not. “Fuck! Baby~ ngh!” There it was. All he needed to hear. You had fucking lied. He heard your moans echo through the walls, you were so loud it was like you wanted him to hear you. “This fucking bitch.” Toji mumbled under his breath, uncrossing his arms he stood and made haste for your room. The moans and crying began to be accompanied by slaps and squelches the closer he got to your closed door.

"Yeah~ give it to m-meee" you moaned between his thrusts. Truth be told, he wasn't fucking you well at all, you only invited him over because his looks rivaled Toji's, but even then he fell short. His thrusts were sloppy and felt more like he was jabbing around your cunt with a thin stick, but you wanted Toji to know you were in charge here, he wasn't going to come into your home and tell you what you could and couldn't do, so if it took a bad fuck to get that through his head, so be it, it's not like you were going to see this boy after today anyways.

You had a smile on your face, which the boy took as him fucking you good, his annoying moans filling up your ears, "Yeah? You like me fucking dick?" He whined, emphasizing his words with a thrust that made you yell out, not from pleasure; not like he would be able to distinguish the difference anyway, "Love ittt~" You faux moaned, fighting to keep a yawn from spilling through your lips. The boy kept jabbing his dick into your walls, and you got so immersed in listening to your own moans to get you through this, that your soul almost jumped out of your body when your door swung open.

Toji stood in the doorway, the vein on his forehead protruding out from under the skin as he took in your position. You were ass up, face down in the sheets, and he could tell right away you didn't like it as much as you were leading on, he saw right through your little game. It only took a couple steps for Toji to get from your doorway to standing behind the man at the edge of your bed. Faster than you could comprehend, Toji had yanked the boy back from the collar of his shirt, pulling him off the bed and out of you as he stumbled on the floor, awkwardly tucking his cock into his pants.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelled, turning your body around you crawled towards them on the bed, reaching out for the boy like you wanted him to stay. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind, you wanted to rile Toji up and show him you could do whatever you wanted, but you didn't know he would storm in here and throw the boy out forcefully. You should've known he was the type of guy to pull something like this. "You know you're way out right?" He said to the confused boy you had dragged into your mess.

He held him up by the collar, bringing his face close to his own he tipped his head, waiting for the boy to answer. He nodded in fear, still trying to wrap his poor aroused head at what was happening. "Good, be a good boy and let yourself out, would you?" He whispered, throwing him forward and out of your room. The boy stumbled on his feet, trying to grab the wall so he didn't fall over before the door was being slammed shut in his face.

"Fuck! You asshole, Fuck!" You were behind Toji, grabbing at his shirt as you tried to get him to face you so you could yell at him properly. While he was throwing out your fuck, you had slid on your panties and pulled your tanktop back over your tits poorly, the hard buds of your nipples poking through the shirt. Toji wasted no time in turning quick on his heels as he grabbed you by the throat, your hands coming to grip at his wrist as he choked you out, pressing just hard enough that you could barely manage to get a stream of air through your esophagus.

He leaned his face close to yours, looking at how messy you looked with your tangled hair and smeared lipstick. "You really think you can get away with shit like that? Huh?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes at you. You whined, trying to give him a pout, "Aww, don't act like you wanted him to stay, he wasn't even fucking you right, was he? If I wanted to hear someone fake an orgasm I would've gone to pornhub." He said, looking between your glassy eyes and your swollen lips from the boys sloppy kissing.

"You're such a slut you know that? You can't go one fucking day without having a cock inside you, even if it's bad, huh?" He chastised, slowly walking you backward towards the bed, so slow you barely noticed it. "He get you high too? Hmm?" He asked, his other hand coming up to pull your eye down to get a better look at your pupils. "N-no." You whispered through his hand squeezing your throat. "No?" His eyes everted to the side table, where a few white pills sat atop the wood, waiting to be taken.

"But you were gonna let him get you high, weren't you?" He asked, following your face when you yanked it away from his hand that pulled down your eye. "None of your fucking business." You spat through your teeth. It was only then you realized you were back at your bed, your calves bumping into the mattress taking you out of your trance. "How is it none of my business when you were moaning like a pathetic slut just to get my attention?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he slid his massive thigh between your own, his knee pressing against your crotch.

You kept silent, pouting at him as you kept your pretty eyes locked on his, waiting for him to do anything. "You sure you ain't high right now?" He asked, to which you quickly nodded. Toji smirked, huffing out a smile at your unapologetic display of lust, "Ur' pupils that big cos you're horny then?" Your arousal spiked tenfold when he announced your need. You licked your lips, nodding at his words as you shamelessly let your eyes fall on his plump lips, dragging between them and his dark eyes.

Toji was feeling conflicted. On one hand, he could think of no better time to put you in your place and fuck the brat out of you, showing you who was really in charge here, you were sober and so clearly wanted it after all. The more rational side of him was telling him this was his boss's daughter, who was twice his age, so he absolutely should not fuck her. Unluckily for the rational side of his brain, your hard nipples poking through your shirt and the smell of your arousal that was still evident in the room was more than enough to sway him, the primal side of him winning as he listened to his urges.

"You wanna find out how it's supposed to feel to get fucked?" Toji whispered, like if he said the words too loud, your father who was currently in another country might hear. You nodded, pulling your lip between your teeth. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation before he pressed his lips to yours, the pair of you instantly groaning into the other's mouth. You don't know if you've ever felt this aroused in your life. Even his kisses made you feel something you've never experienced before, was every kiss supposed to feel like this?

Toji slowly pushed you back on the bed, keeping his knee between your legs as he hovered over you, releasing your neck and instead using one hand to pull your panties off, his other resting by your head so he didn't crush you. You wrapped your hands around his strong neck, whimpering into the kiss. He heard you giggle when you threw your panties somewhere in the room, sliding his hand up your waist as he situated you on the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips. "Whats so funny?" He asked, pulling back from the kiss as he watched you smile underneath him, tilting your head as you loosened your arms around his neck.

"Jus' wondering what my dad would think if he saw what the bodyguard he got to protect his little girl was doing to her right now~" You giggled, biting your lip. Toji shook his head, keeping his eyes on yours as he wordlessly dipped his fingers down to your pussy, teasing up and down your soaked entrance. "Yeah, what would he think about you fucking someone twice your age? Fuckin' brat." He spat, watching your smile fade and your expression be replaced with your slacked jaw and raised eyebrows as your eyes fluttered when he dipped his large fingers into your hole, pressing into it teasingly before pulling away.

"I know he's used to seein' you slut yourself out to those dumb college boys, but this might shock him.. huh?" He cooed, pressing his fingers into your cunt slowly, your walls greedily swallowing up his thick digits. "F-fuck-" You cursed, your eyes falling shut, tipping your head agaisnt the pillow. "That feel good baby? You like feelin' this old man's fingers in your pussy? Fuckin' into your sweet spot?" He whispered, bringing his lips against yours once more, hovering them against you as he inhaled your reactions when he curled his fingers, massaging your g-spot with precision.

"Right there-" You gasped quietly against his lips, wiggling your hips down onto his fingers. "Right here? Yeah? When's the last time someone actually touched you right here, hmm?" He asked, softly kissing your lips before he went back to hovering his lips over yours. "I-I don't know." You whispered, trying to kiss him back but he kept his lips just far enough away from yours that you couldn't manage. "No? That why you're so fucking insatiable huh? Jus' waiting to find the guy who will actually fuck you right?" You were dripping around his fingers. His soft teasing words were a stark contrast to his fingers that now pistoned in and out of you, wet squelching noises bouncing off the walls and echoing into your ears, driving you mad.

"Mhm- mhm-" You replied, nodding your head rapidly, feeling your orgasm come on quickly. "You're not gonna find that with these fuckin' college boys sweet thing, 'ya need a man for that, someone a little.. older." He whispered, making you whine against him as he curled his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot. You abandoned one of your arms around his neck, reaching between you to grab his wrist. Your eyes cracked open, staring up at him as you breathed heavily. "All it takes is a couple fingers and you're a good girl, isn't that right?" He asked, feeling you squeeze around his fingers.

He continued to drill his fingers into you, your back arching against him as moans fell freely from your lips, your nails digging into his wrist as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. "You gonna cum for me, princess?" Toji asked knowingly, smirking when you nodded against him. You felt it, it was right there, well within your grasp when- suddenly the stimulation stopped, your orgasm fizzling out. Your eyes peeled open, eyebrows scrunched together as you looked up at him with a crimson face. "You sure?" He asked, his smirk growing.

Toji abandoned his fingers from your pussy, pulling them out with a pop as he sat back on his heels, replacing his lips with his fingers soaked in your cum as he pressed them against your lips, watching while you eagerly took them into your mouth, moaning around them as you tasted yourself on your tongue. Of course, you were mad Toji had pulled away right before you came but with the way he had rubbed inside your walls so nicely, your brain couldn't think of anything bratty to say as you sucked on his fingers, watching his eyes watch your lips as he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock in one swift movement.

You moaned around his fingers when your eyes made contact with his girth, it was massive, way bigger than anything you had taken before, even bigger than your dildo. His was prettier than other dicks you'd seen too, a pretty flushed and tripping tip to contrast against a slightly darker color of his length. He jerked his cock steadily, pressing his fingers deeper into your mouth. "You like what you see, brat?" Toji asked, grinning when he felt your tongue slide over his fingers, mimicking the way you sucked a cock.

Toji groaned through a smile when you grabbed his wrist tighter and pushed his fingers into your throat, bobbing your head around them. "Someone trained you before me, huh? Who taught you to suck fingers like a dick?" Toji asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You swallowed your arousal and saliva in your mouth before pulling his fingers from you, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers. "I don't remember." You smiled drunkenly, making his cock twitch as he didn't let up his strokes on it. "Such a slut." He said, shaking his head.

You whined at his words, spreading your legs around his thighs to make more room, you dropped your hands down to his cock and wrapped both your hands around the tip, jerking what you could while he kept up his own ministrations on his cock as well. "You gonna slut yourself out for me too? Show me how good you are at taking cock?" He asked, releasing his hand from his dick he leaned over you, placing his forearms around your head as you stroked the entirety of his cock in your hands, wrapping your legs around him.

"Yeah~" You answered, looking between the two of you as you pressed his fat tip against your entrance, his cock leaking against your pussy. "You gonna fuck me raw, daddy?" You whispered against his ear. Toji swore his brain stopped working, his cock throbbed in your hold at the name. He audibly groaned, pressing one of his hands over your mouth, "Don't do that." He warned, swallowing hard as his smile faded from his face, his arousal plastering itself all over his features.

Toji felt a new need, a rawer, more primal one. He knew he shouldn't have felt as aroused as he did when you called him that, but he couldn't fucking help it. He kept replaying your words over in his head, one of your hands came up to pull his down off of your mouth, while the other stayed between your legs, his tip pushing past the ring of your cunt, making the both of you gasp. "You like it when I call you that, huh?" You whispered, watching his jaw go slack and his eyes roll back as he slipped deeper and deeper into your cunt. "Fuck- you're so- haah- so big-" you whined, his cock pressing agaisnt your sweet spot ruining your attempts at being in control for even a second.

"Yeah.." Toji moaned, his eyes peeled open again to watch your expression as you took his cock, "Let's see if you're still runnin' that fuckin' mouth when I'm done with you." He finished, thrusting his cock to the hilt unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you. The older man started up a brutal pace inside your cunt, his eyes rolling back at how tight and warm you were around him. Both of your hands came down to push against his pelvis, trying to get him to slow down, "Fuck! T-toji w-wait wait-" You whined at the painful stretch.

"Nah, what happened to 'daddy' huh? Though you liked callin' me that shit." He asked, not letting up his hips, ignoring your hands trying to push him away. "Stop fucking whining, you can take it, ur' such a big fuckin' girl who can take anything, right?" Toji smirked, biting down on his teeth when he felt you squeeze around him. Incohearant moans were being fucked out of you, one of your hands starting to circle around your little clit in small circles as you felt yourself rapidly approach your orgasm.

He gripped both of your wrists together, stopping your motions as he pinned your hands above your head, watching your head thrash back and forth against the sheets. "Answer me brat." He spat, picking up the pace of his hips. "Fuck f-fuck D-daddy please-" You wined, letting him hear exactly what he wanted to hear. You've never called anyone other than your father that name; really only calling Toji the nickname in the first place to tease him; so it felt foreign calling Toji that in this setting, but seeing how worked up it got him made you aroused as well.

He groaned once again at the nickname, his hand that wasn't pinning your arms above your head came down to rub at your clit, finding it with pinpoint precision and rubbing it in circles just how you liked it. "Oh fuck me-" you groaned, your eyes rolling back, head tipping back in the sheets, revealing your still marked-up neck to him. He hated the sight, he wanted to lean down and replace the ugly purple marks with his own, darker ones, so that's exactly what he did.

He found the bruises with his eyes first, then made sure his lips were covering them before he started sucking the skin into his mouth, making you gasp. "When's the last time someone touched your clit for you?" Toji asked, noticing how tight you got around him when you rubbed the little bud, your legs squeezing his waist simultaneously. "I- I don't know I- Fuck!" Your head pushed further back into the sheets as Toji kept sucking on your neck. "Feels soo much better when someone else does it huh?" Toji asked knowingly.

Your moans were raising in pitch, the noises coming less frequently as your high crept over you, your breath stuttering in your chest as you came hard, all over his dick, moaning out his name and broken cries of 'daddy' as you did. "Oh- fuck yeahhh~ Cum all over daddy's fucking cock princess, that's fucking right~" He leaned back from your neck, pressing your wrists into the bed harder as he fucked you through your first orgasm, your walls squeezing him like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. You came down, gasping and crying in overstimulation as Toji kept fucking you, the squelching louder now thanks to your orgasm.

"That feel good baby? Wanna feel that again?" He asked, laughing at how tears had started to fall down your cheeks. "P-please fuck- Your cock feels so- fucking- good-" You praised through his rough thrusts, his hips making your body slide up on the bed from how hard he was fucking you. "Yeah? I bet it feels good, you're fucking shaking." Toji laughed, slowing his thumb against your clit so as to not overstimulate you to the point of passing out, as validating as it would be to see you literally pass out from his cock, he didn't want to deal with that right now.

"You like my p-pussy?" You asked, smirking at him, noticing how his grip on your wrists tightened when you asked him that. His cock twitched as he watched your tits bounce from under your shirt, your nipple occasionally popping out from under the fabric. "Who taught you to speak like that? Such a filthy fucking mouth." Toji chastized, picking up his thumb on your clit once more, wanting to see you fall apart one more time on his dick before he came.

"Y- fuck T-you didn't answer-" You wined, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach once more. Everything about this man was making your entire body feel like it was on fire. How confident he was, how he knew your anatomy like the back of his hand, how he seemed to know every little button on your body that made you twitch and whine, all of it was driving you crazy. "You want me to tell you how much I love fucking you little pussy? Huh?" He stared, groaning against your lips as he leaned down, kissing you between words.

"Want me to tell you how I almost came when I got inside you? How good it feels when you twitch around me?" He whispered, kissing you hungrily, swallowing up your high-pitched moans as his hips lost rhythm. "That what you wanna hear? How you have daddy losing his mind in your tight little cunt?" You pulled off of his lips, practically screaming his name as your high crashed over you once more, his words being the final straw that got you there.

Toji dropped his head to your neck, biting the skin there to keep his groans at bay. "Fuck- fuck- where do you want it?" Toji rushed, hoping you were able to respond through your orgasm, or he was going to cum inside you anyways. "I-inside daddy f-fill me up!" You slurred through your high, riding your orgasm out on his dick as he continued to pull his cock almost completely out before bullying it back inside you. "Yeah? Want me to cum inside you? God- you drive me fucking crazy-" Toji continued to thrust inside your tired cunt, fucking you once more into overstimulation as he groaned loudly into your neck; he never was one to be shy about being loud in bed.

"Fuck- It's coming- gonna fill you up baby, 'n you're gonna take every last fucking drop, right?" He asked. He desperately needed to hear you say it. "Yes baby yes- g-gonna take it all- c-cum inside me pleasee~" You slurred, the pulsing of your walls working him over just right as his breath hitched at the first rope of his hot cum shooting inside your cunt. His teeth dug into your neck when he came, his hips stuttering as he humped them against you every time his cock shot out his cum. "Yessss~ Fucking give it to me daddy~" you slurred against his ear, giggling.

He stilled against you, the aftershocks of his orgasm wracking through his body, his grip had tightened around your wrist almost completely cutting off your circulation, you were sure to have bruises there in the morning. The two of you panted when he finally came down from his high. He sat up, slowly pulling his cock out of your sore and red pussy, his eyes watching as his thick cum spilled out of your hole and down the curve of your ass. "Take a picture if you wanna~" You said, squeezing your calves around his waist.

Toji shook his head, "You should be careful with that, you know who you are, don't you?" Toji said, scooping up his cum he stuffed his fingers back inside you, keeping it all in. You didn't know what to say back, guys usually jumped at the opportunity to take a picture of you all ruined like this, was it weird to say you were almost charmed by Toji looking out for you? "Your legs alright?" He asked, his voice breaking the silence when he noticed how shaky they were.

You weren't used to someone asking how you were after sex either.. this Toji.. he was weird. "Uh, yeah, just a little sore." You said, uncharacteristically shy. His eyes glanced up at your bashful face, before they found your wrists, seeing bright red marks imprint on the skin there, he admit the sight was erotic, but that shit look like it hurt. "Shit, sorry," Toji mumbled, his hand reaching up to your hands on your tummy to rub your wrist softly in his hands. "Didn't mean to fuck your shit up so bad." He laughed. You giggled at his choice of words, "It's fine, it felt good." you replied.

Toji had started to climb off the bed, tucking his cock into his pants a he laughed, walking towards the entrance of your room. Right, he was going to leave now, just because he was a good fuck doesn't mean he was going to stay now. "Don't move," he instructed, making you snap out of your thoughts. You watched Toji exit the room, you heard the skin in the bathroom turn on briefly before the water stopped, soon after the large man entered the room again.

You hadn't moved, just like he told you to. You watched him crawl back on the bed, a damp rag in his hand as he wiped your legs down, starting from your ankles, "I would carry you to the shower, but you wouldn't be able to stand anyway." He laughed. You pulled your leg back, out of his grasp, "What are you doing?" You asked. Toji looked at you like you were dumb, "I'm cleaning you up?" He said like it was obvious, roughly pulling your leg back towards himself so he could wipe you clean again, kissing your ankle before he threw it over his shoulder, scooting forward to wipe down the underside of his thigh.

"You're weird, Toji fushiguro." You said, blushing at his sudden soft treatment of your body. The man laughed, reaching your sore cunt he dragged the towel through your folds, cleaning the mess the two of you made there as you groaned in distain. "Okay, baby." He replied.

[sashi-ya]

𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him.  Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so.  “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

 You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too.  And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too.  Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[simpjaes]

FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 

៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::​​​

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 

You shrug. 

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys. 

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.” 

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 

Offense taken. 

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[hxnbi]

ღ blue lock boys and their love language

₊˚Ꮺ pairings: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru x gn. reader (separate)

♡ NAGI SEISHIRO◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

NAGI, even for his age, is extremely clingy. Whether it is day or night, busy or not, you will see a messy, white-haired teenager clinging to you like a needy koala. It was cute at first, you thought, that is, until you had to do your typical mundane tasks like washing the dishes, cleaning up, or even just doing something as simple as lazily looking at your phone in bed, for crying out loud. You're watching something? Oh well, now its we, all the while, as Nagi collapses next to you, holding you by the waist and pouting about how you didn't invite him.

“But Sei, I thought you hated gore?”

“I like it when I’m with you.”

“Uh huh…”

Though he loves games more than anything else, above all, he adores holding you in his arms, all the while he rambles on in short and scruffy murmurs, complaining about school and the supposedly awful cafeteria food. And keeping you while he's playing games in bed, with you watching him do so? That is Nagi's idea of a perfect date. What more could he ever want? All that he desires is right here in his arms.

♡ ITOSHI RIN◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

The dude doesn't have a colourful bone in his body. To those, even just imagining RIN having a significant other is enough to make those aware drop to an early grave. But, unbeknownst to most, Rin is extremely protective over you. To him, you are his other half, and he is willing to do anything in order to secure your safety above all else. And to also stay the hell away from his brother? Now, that's just a delightful bonus. To you, his sincere actions were his way of showing that he cared.

He considers himself to be your protector, and he will ensure you know this about him. You don't have to lift a finger; he's already on it. His presence alone makes your cheeks flush pink. The things that Rin does, whether it's to help you study for an English test or walk home together late at night, he goes out of his way to show his love and devotion to you and you only, even if it means taking on responsibilities and burdens.

♡ ISAGI YOICHI◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

ISAGI is a pure, earnest, kind-hearted boy—that is, when he's not on the field. But that's beside the point. Isagi is aware of his shortcomings and flaws, but he's not about to let that stop him from telling you all about him. Isagi is, undeniably, a heart-on-his-sleeve kind of guy with his unabashed display of affection towards you. For better or for worse, Isagi will let you know what he thinks. His love language becomes apparent. Isagi cherishes the intimacy of being close to his loved one.

He's all about being utterly and completely transparent with his feelings about you. Not even the most oblivious of people could see the way that Isagi looked at you and assume it was anything but pure adoration. Meanwhile, the others in Blue Lock would watch on from a distance with envy and possibly awe as you and Isagi were together. Or just plain disgust at the sight of romance in their vicinity. Everyone, regardless of what side they were on, had one thought in mind.

'Is this really the same guy from on the field…?'

♡ MIKAGE REO◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

When you're with REO, no day is complete without him taking you somewhere lavish, using his influence. You would often find yourself being showered with gifts and luxuries, but nothing is done without your consent, and Reo made damn sure that you were never uncomfortable. He has money, and he is not hesitant to use it. Nothing pleases him more than to spend money he believed to be mere pocket change in exchange for your happiness.

Reo is a busy guy with not only his studies but also being the heir of the Mikage Corporation and then Blue Lock. There's a lot Reo can obtain with money, but there are just as many things he can't—time. Interestingly enough, nothing screams fulfillment to him more than quality time, and utilizing his wealth to create those moments with you holds great significance to him—more than you could imagine—rather than merely simply buying material possessions.

♡ ITOSHI SAE◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

Itoshi SAE is famous, there's no doubt about it. Not only is he prided as the best player in Japan, but he is also recognized as one of the youngest. But that level of attention also comes with immense scrutiny. Sae takes pride not just in his football playing but also in his cold, blunt, and aloof persona. He has only ever cared about becoming the best striker in the world, but despite his own ambitions, he felt a simmering rage ignite in him whenever the media dared to mention you. Because to him, you were his other half.

He hated the press—absolutely despised it—and he was disgusted how every move you made, good or not, would then be scrutinized by reporters and the public alike. No matter what you did, people would give excuses that you didn’t deserve to be with him. Sae would make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that doubt would never be cast in front of your eyes again. Doubting his love for you is his biggest fear, and it's because of that fear that he tries to spend every possible moment with you. Quality time is hard for a person like him to come by, but that gives even more reason to cherish the little time you both have. 

♡ BACHIRA MEGURU◞ ꞋꞌꞋꞌ

Now, unlike Isagi and Nagi, BACHIRA is a delightful blend of both. He's just as clingy as Nagi, and his words can be just as endearing as Isagi. He is all over you with his words, adoring and cherishing you like there's no tomorrow. And to him, there really isn't. For his significant other, there is no point in hiding how he truly feels. This boy is unapologetically honest and is not above engaging in PDA. And so, when the opportunity presents itself, he is all over you. His eccentric energy personality really is contagious, and physical affection is Bachira's way of expressing love; it's his way of expressing that he genuinely loves you with no doubt.

During Bachira's childhood, he was actively bullied, which made him terrified of being alone. You saw that fear manifesting in the instances when Bachira, in the middle of the night, would tightly clutch onto you, showing no inclination to release his hold, consumed by the dread of losing you. At times when Bachira would be back home, he would envelop you in his arms, showering you with affection and whispering endearments, before quickly dozing off with you right in his arms like a stuffed animal, only to then oversleep, even after his alarm went off. With Bachira's phone buzzing in your grasp, you swiftly silenced it, opting to allow him to remain undisturbed in slumber as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. Perhaps, you can let him sleep peacefully by your side. Just this once.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[aurorawritestoescape]

AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

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Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

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