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hoshigray · 8 months

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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!”

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family.

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.”

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?”

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?”

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.”

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about.

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner.

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.”

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years.

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink.

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo.

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow.

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone.

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.”

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.”

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.”

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.”

“Still traumatized from that one time?”

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.”

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great.

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…”

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty.

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?”

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!”

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!”

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.”

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs.

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street.

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights.

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way.

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.”

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow.

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.”

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse.

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body.

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!”

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body.

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.”

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?”

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.”

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side.

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs.

“Will do.”He whistles.

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point.

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.”

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.”

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.”

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?”

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you.

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.”

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired.

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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sillyblues · 1 year

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𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh.

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you.

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands.

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes.

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked.

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

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desperate-baitmeat · 5 months

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Dad told me he had an extra special dessert for me tonight. Just come see him at night when Mom’s gone to bed and I can have it. After I hear the door to their room close, I know she’s in bed, and I sneak downstairs. I am so excited to see Dad waiting for me!

“I made us some Daddy-daughter brownies,” he says gently, “just for us to share tonight while we watch your favourite movie, sweetie.”

I thank him and take the biggest looking piece off the plate as we settle onto the couch and turn the tv on. After 30 minutes sitting together watching the movie, i start feeling kind of strange.

“Dad, my body feels weird and I can’t focus on the movie anymore,” I whine.

He tells me not to worry and how much he’s enjoying our movie night together. He brings the plate over and offers,

“Have another brownie, kiddo. That should help you feel better.”

While eating more, I vaguely notice Dad’s hand caressing my leg under the blanket. He probably just likes spending time with his daughter..nothing to worry about.

As the movie continues, he gently runs his fingers up my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to my pussy.

Now anxious and having a hard time gathering my thoughts, I ask him, “Dad, what are you doing?”

“Shhh sweetheart, I just want you to feel good,” he replies softly as his hand finds the top of my pjs and slips under the waistband.

His fingers reach my clit and he starts delicately playing with it under his fingertips. I don’t know what to do other than sit there and let his hands touch my body. Soon he grabs my hand and leads it under the blanket, reaching towards his legs. I feel his hard bulge under his pants as he uses my hand to rub himself.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praises while putting my hand inside his pants. “Show me how much you love me, sweetheart, rub Daddy’s cock for him.”

Frozen in place and feeling warm and fuzzy in my head from his fingers continuous stimulation, I wrap my delicate hand around his thick cock and start moving up and down. As soon as my hand starts in motion, his fingers move further into my pjs and find the entrance of my pussy. He feels how wet he’s made me and laughs softly.

“Is Dad making your little cunt feel nice?” He asks.

I barely know what’s happening anymore more. I’m just focused on doing what Dad says and getting through our movie night. My nod indicating a yes makes him smile.

“I’m not going to be able to sit still very long, kiddo. Don’t you feel how happy you’re making me?”

He pulls my hand away from him and gets up from the couch. He’s got a more serious look on his face as he says,

“This might not make your cunt feel as nice, sweetie, but I really can’t help myself right now. Lay back on the couch for me and just relax, okay?”

#1cky daddy #1cky daughter #1cky d@d #cnc drugging #dad k!nk #thank you to anyone who reads this I hope it’s enjoyable to at least one person #and if you want to continue with the scenario you already know you can send me messages

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emmyrosee · 8 months

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You’ve been sneaking into Kenma’s room for years.

It started when you were very young, having left your gameboy at Kenma’s house after a few rounds of Mario. You managed to toss a few rocks at his window, and once he silently unlocked the door and let you in, you quickly scurried back out hours later with a grateful smile.

Then, you started to sneak through his window. Seeing the flashes of lights at god knows what hours was something you knew meant he was awake, and you’d climb out from your sheets and crossed the street to his place. Again, you’d throw rocks at his window, and when he’d tried to go open the door, he hadn’t expected you scale up the large tree just a few feet away.

Tonight was no different; he’s tapping away wildly on his console while you scurry up the tree in your slippers, smooshing your face against the glass when he finally sees you and opens the window.

You’d finally tumbled in, and he gave you a tired sigh, “you’re annoying.”

“And you’re still playing. I wanted to watch you play.”

“You could’ve just texted me. You left marks on my glass.”

“I needed the exercise. What time do you need me out of here?”

“Kuroo drags me by the ankle out of here by 06:30. Be out beforehand.”

You smirk and nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to send you a glare before sitting back down on the floor. “Sleep on the bed, help yourself to pajamas.”

“You like him, kenma,” you tease. You see him tense up before he shakes his head.

“No,” he says simply. “I don’t. Not like that anyways.”

“Just not used to you having other friends besides me,” you hum. He huffs in annoyance.

“Are you gonna watch, or do I have to kick you out of my room?”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll behave. Only because I hate climbing your tree.”

Kenma doesn’t like Kuroo. Honest! He thinks he’s cute, sure, gets why the girls like him and boys follow him around, he’s fine enough on a scale of emotional and physical attraction.

But Kuroo’s not the one Kenma’s eyes stay focused on. It’s you.

You’re funny, he likes the way you eat foods that you don’t like first, before diving into the favorites after to savor them. You’re cute, and you’re bad at the differences between contexts of words, and you have a little eye twitch that bestows you in a moment of quick thoughtfulness.

You don’t ask him why he’s up so late, you ask him the answers to homework and give him gummy worms as a thank you. You never overstay a welcome, always either leaving before the sun comes up, or staying quiet while you sleep on the bed.

He likes the way your eyes shine when you’re excited, the roll of your eyes when he tells you “no” when you want the answer to be “yes”, the little snickers that slip out at Kuroo’s expense at Kenma’s quick thinking.

“Kenma?”

“Im busy.”

“I want to cuddle.”

The way you want physical touch when you’re tired.

Yeah. As your best friend, he really is bias to that one.

With a groan, he pauses and saves his game under slot 3, shuts down the console before crawling up and into his bed next to you, the cold sheets shooting his nerves until they warm under your shared warmth. You bury your nose in his collar and he takes out his phone for you both to watch tiktok.

“Kenma?”

“Go to sleep.”

“When you marry Kuroo, can I be the ring bearer?”

“If i marry Kuroo, I want you far, far from my ceremony.”

He practically hears you pout, “you’re no fun.”

“I sure am not.”

For someone who has no fun, not one fun bone in his body, he’s amazed at how comfortable you are in his grip and he in yours, fingers fisting his nightshirt until his own eyes grow heavy.

And if Kuroo walked in just a few hours later at 06:30, only to see his best friend cuddling with someone he loves most, he didn’t say anything and closed the door softly behind him.

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empresskylo · 10 months

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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?

i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.

Ghost

♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.

♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"

♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.

♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.

♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.

Price

♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.

♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.

♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.

♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…

♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.

♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.

♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.

Alejandro

♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.

♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.

♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.

♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.

♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”

#ghost #simon riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #alejandro vargas headcanons #john price headcanons #call of duty headcanons #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas #captain john price #john price

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ifwebefriends · 2 months

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My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

#Bluey #bluey the sign #meme #Bluey heeler #rad heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #baby race #my ramblings #my rambles #frisky heeler #brandy cattle #spoilers #bluey the sign spoilers #bluey spoilers

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atticrissfinch · 6 months

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In the Next Room | (joel miller x fem!reader) (oneshot) (18+)

Masterlist | Ko-fi pairing: neighbor’s fuckbuddy!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When the peace and quiet of your apartment is disturbed by the noisy escapades of the couple in the neighboring unit, you find yourself entranced by the mystery man on the other side of the wall. And when you stumble upon him on a dating app…well, it might just be fate. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, age gap (Joel is 48, reader is under 29), v mild dom!joel, slight voyeurism, joel just straight slutting and whoring it up but…like…in a charming way, masturbation (f), daddy!kink, a looootta size!kink, dirty talk, a liiittle bit of sexting, one (1) swat to the ass, minor degradation!kink, praise!kink, spitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), mild deepthroating, irresponsible unprotected piv, creampie, brief cockwarming, Joel Miller: DILF Extraordinaire even without a kid at home, a teensy weensy bit of ddlg-esque infantilization but nothing extreme, joel and reader just being feral and adorable w each other and having a jolly good ol’ time, reader has hair and is lifted onto a counter sry. word count: ~11.5K | ao3 a/n: I was chatting with daddy chloe @chloeangelic and she mentioned she knew someone who found out her fuckbuddy was also fucking her neighbor and I said…hold on. Huge idea. So this lovely fic was born. I really love these two and I did not expect it to be this fun and cute and sexy, so I hope you enjoy! title is from In the Next Room by Neon Trees, which I highly recommend you give a listen to. s/o to @saradika for the gorgeous divider ♥️

Taglist Update: This will be my last time using my taglist! For future updates people follow @atticrissfinchupdates 💖

If you only knew

How hard it is to handle

How bad I want this scandal

Oh, I lose control

When I hear your body move

Through the walls in the next room

One thing you’ve really come to appreciate about your new apartment is how quiet your neighbors are. You’ve only been here for about 3 months, but in comparison to your last apartment, the noise level might as well be nonexistent. No persnickety old lady raising hell over the dodgy as fuck elevator by the stairs, no screaming three-year-old behind the door across the hall, no meathead grunting out his squats at 5 AM in the neighboring unit. Just a mild-mannered elderly couple across the way and a cute, perky woman, probably in her 30s, in the apartment to your left. It’s been a silent paradise so far, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Until tonight.

It started off with tampered whimpers, then what sounded like moaned “oh, fuck”s, and finally graduated to a thumping bedframe and a woman screaming. Your next-door neighbor, you gather pretty quickly. And not just wordless screams, very colorful screams.

“Fuck, baby!”

“Oh, shit, Joel! So fucking big!”

“I can’t! Too fucking big, please!”

The headboard on the other side of the drywall knock-knock-knocks against your shared wall where your own headboard stands pathetically dormant in contrast.

You hear an unintelligible response to her cries in the cadence of a deep, rumbling voice. You’re a sucker for a deep voice, you always have been, and it sounds like the girl next door is having exactly the kind of night you wish you were having.

“No, fuck, don’t stop! Just so fucking big, Joel!”

The voice rumbles again with a silky lilt to it, and for some unknown reason, you find your eyes drifting closed and your mind filling in the gaps you can’t quite hear.

I know it’s big, baby, but you can take it.

Such a good girl for me.

Feel so tight around this fat cock, baby.

Without even having put thought into it, you discover your hand has snaked its way under your panties and is already massaging circles around your clit. Your mouth drops open in a gasp when you slick up your fingers with the evidence of your arousal and you get the rhythm just right against the bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs.

You thrust up into your hand to the tempo of the headboard crashing into the wall, straining your ear to try and catch even the faintest glimpse of the actual words the man is feeding to her as he pounds her into the mattress.

You’re blessed when his voice raises for a single phrase, a passionate aggression behind his words.

“Yeah, fuckin’ take it for me .”

The words have you bucking into your hand, a moan crackling in your throat, and your fingers picking up speed. Your ears take it upon themselves to filter out the shrieking voice of your neighbor and solely hone in on the husky tones of the man. You imagine he’s older, large and imposing, with hands that dwarf yours as his fingers slip in the spaces between your own and restrain them above your head as his huge cock wreaks havoc on your insides.

It’s been months since you've been laid, months since you’ve even had a single viable candidate in this new city. It’s not a stretch to claim that you’re fucking desperate, hence your hand taking residence in your underwear and getting off to the auditory scraps granted to you by this mystery man.

The woman’s voice breaks through your selective hearing barrier.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Joel!”

And he bestows his heightened voice on you once more as he replies.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. I’m so fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want it? ”

You shut out the woman’s voice again in favor of embarrassingly whimpering out loud to your empty room, “Inside, please, daddy.”

You hear a guttural grunt, and you picture your faceless man’s hips stuttering into you as he fills you up with all he has to give you. You gasp as your orgasm floods through you, shooting warmth through your limbs and sparks through your brain as your hand slows to a stop. You pant as you feel the faint pulsing of your clit under your fingertips, and both the couple and the furniture in the next room fall silent.

Your unsoiled hand reaches up to cover your face, dragging down it as you come to terms with what you just did.

Fuck, you need to get laid.

–

You’ve been rotting in bed all morning, taking full advantage of your peaceful Saturday with no obligations. You scroll mindlessly on your phone as a notification pops up indicating that a package you were expecting was dropped off at your door. You groan, relishing the precious moments in your soft fortress of sheets, and roll lethargically out of bed. You throw on a pair of leggings to cover your bottom half and straighten your mussed camisole to ensure all nipples are accounted for within the confines of the fabric from a night of tossing and turning. You perform a solid full-body stretch, feeling your joints pop faintly and pleasantly as you pad to your front door.

As you pull it open, you bend over to grab the small box, just as the door to your left swings open. You swivel your head to see a man, a large, older man, stepping out the door and pulling it shut behind him. As you snap upright, the man startles, a hand flying over his heart in surprise.

“Jesus, you scared me,” He drawls with a small grin gracing his scruffy–fuck, beautiful –face.

After a few moments, you realize that you’re just fucking gawking at him. “I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to!”

He chuckles, a gorgeous little sound from plush lips, and gives a courteous shake of his head. “All good. Hope you got somethin’ excitin’ there.”

You blink, a quizzical look on your face before you process what he said. “Oh! The package. Not really, just a new milk frother. Gotta have those homemade lattes, you know?” You say with a short laugh, cringing internally at how awkward you’ve suddenly become around this man. Are you really this out of practice with flirting? Not even flirting, just human interaction itself?

The man shrugs, his smile still in place. “More of a black coffee man, myself.”

“Bold,” You attempt to tease, nodding your head. “Need all the energy you can get after a night like that, I suppose,” You say a bit boldly yourself, gesturing to the door he just came out of.

His eyes widen a little, a pale flush entering his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable cough into his fist. “Uh, ‘s-’scuse me?”

Your eyes widen in response when your brain catches up with what your mouth just ran away with. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just, uh…had a bit of a front-row…ear to your activities last night. Walls are a little thin,” You clench your teeth in a show of shared embarrassment, jabbing your thumb over your shoulder toward your own apartment.

The blush intensifies on his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Shit. I, uh, I’m sorry about that. We, uh, we’re usually over at my place, but I found a termite infestation in my house, and it’s being tented right now, and I’m stuck over at my brother’s place, and…I don’t know why I’m tellin’ a complete stranger all my business, but. Anyway, we’re usually over at mine. I’m sorry for the, uh, ruckus,” He rambles, burying his largelargelarge hands into his jean pockets and rocking on his heels. “We’ll be back at mine next time, so. Won’t happen again.”

You nod, only half hearing what he’s rambling about as your concentration is taken out at the knees the more you hear him speak, the more his voice washes over you like a cool splash of water, the more your brain sees fit to supply you with a plethora of disgusting things that voice could divulge to you that you didn’t conjure up last night, this time with his voice in crystal clear high definition and not muffled by anything other than possibly your hair or your skin or your lips on his mouth.

The throbbing between your thighs has your confidence climbing, elevated by your attraction to this complete stranger as he’d referred to you. “Sure sounded like you gave her a good time in there.”

“I-I don’t know about all that,” He laughs awkwardly again, the blush bleeding down his neck.

“I mean, she sure had a lot to say about, uh, what you had to offer,” You babble, feeling your cheeks heat up, but unable to shut yourself up. “Sounds like she was struggling a bit.”

The man’s eyes dodge yours with a fervent dedication, flustering his words as he excuses the accusations. “Nah, she uh…she…she was just talkin' up my ego. You know how it is,” He stammers.

“I don’t know, must be a pretty good actress from what I heard. I’ve never been able to fake it that hard. Sounded pretty real to me…Joel, is it? Did I hear that right?”

“Damn, I, uh, yeah. Yes. Joel. Miller,” He introduces himself stiltedly, holding out a hand and then staring at it like he’s shouting in his head, what the fuck are you doing?

You take his hand for a single shake, gifting him your own name in return. His handshake, though short, is sturdy, mildly calloused against the back of your palm, like he works with his hands. As your mind digs its claws into you with ideas of what exactly he could do with those hands, they fall away from each other, and you occupy the absence by gripping the frame of your doorway.

“Well, uh, it was nice meetin’ you. I-I promise we won’t disturb your peace again,” He says with a resolute nod.

“No biggie,” You reply, doing your best to sound casual and, if you’re honest, not discourage him from putting on another show for you to get off to.

He gives one more jerky nod and heads for the elevator, rubbing his flushed neck as he goes. You grab your package and scurry into your apartment, shutting the door firmly behind you and drooping back against it.

Stupid stupid stupid.

Hot hot hot.

Fuck.

–

That evening, the solution to your growing problem seems relatively obvious as you mull over your actions from last night and this morning. Your need to have the shit fucked out of you is reaching a fever pitch, and the easiest, most logical conclusion is to dust off the dating apps burning a hole through your phone.

So you settle in against your pillows with a large glass of rosé and open up an app.

You won’t lie, things are looking pretty bleak.

You must swipe past thirty mediocre men, only doling out one or two right-swipes among the lefts.

And then you feel your stomach swoop.

You know that face. Time could jettison you forward forty years into the future and you would still know that face. The way it blossomed with red at your comments, the way thick fingers scratched at the scruff adorning it, the way the lines by his eyes crinkled in bashfulness.

And then there’s his name, locking your suspicions in concrete.

Joel. Age 48. 7 Miles away.

Bio: Just a simple guy, looking for fun, but we’ll see how things go.

You scroll through his photos, a random selection of snippets from his life. One with a beer in his hand at the beach, his toes in the sand. Another with his face shaded by a ball cap, squinting at the photographer to his left as he sits with a fishing pole cast into a lake. His arm around a man roughly the same height and age range, some shared facial features, matching smiles–a brother, maybe. A suggestive selfie in his bed, sheets tucked below his pecs, eyes bleary with sleep accompanied by a soft smile and messy curls.

Easiest swipe right of your life.

Another pang alights in your stomach when you’re instantly met with the little “matching” animation, clinking your two profile pictures together with a heart.

Your tongue darts across your lips as you sit up straighter, wine sloshing in your glass until you steady it with another sip. Your standard protocol is to wait for the guy to message first, but your eagerness gets the better of you. You don’t even wait a few minutes to be coy, you just go full-send.

You: Fancy seeing you on here…

Fully expecting to wait a minute for a response, you take a deep breath and burrow into your pillows again. But you get a notification almost instantly.

Joel: I was thinking the same thing… Joel: Feels somethin like kismet, or whatever they call it

A smile breaks against your cheeks, and you bite into your knuckle to stop yourself from just straight-up squealing.

You: They do call it that, from what I hear 🤭

This time he doesn’t respond immediately, and your teeth begin to tug at your lower lip as you watch the stagnant chat thread.

And then a possible reality smacks you in the face.

What if this man is taken? What if your neighbor is his girlfriend and he’s still creeping for girls on dating apps?

The fluttering in your stomach starts to take a sour turn, worrying your lip further as you await his reply. What if they’re together right now, and he can only respond when she’s distracted?

Another message pops up.

Joel: A little like kismet that we met in the hallway i’d say too. Same place, same time and all

You take a breath and decide to just cut through the bullshit as early as possible before your thoughts truly run away from you.

You: Speaking of. I’m gonna be honest. If that’s your girlfriend that lives next to me, I’m gonna have to enact Girl Code and let her know I saw you on here. Because that shit is not cool.

You send it before you can talk yourself out of it, and close out of the app as soon as it’s out of your hands. You down what remains of your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand, but your attention springs back to your phone as it buzzes again. You brace yourself for his panic or defense and open the message.

Joel: lol well you can put down your pitchfork and reshelve the sacred “Girl Code”. Trish and I are strictly casual. By her own insistence matter a fact. You can ask her if you don’t believe me

You sigh a breath of relief and tap out a response.

You: Really? You: Guess I just have a hard time believing that any woman could turn down that face

He responds immediately again.

Joel: Well now you got me blushin again. Thank you darlin

You: At least I can rule you out as “stupid enough to cheat on your gf by trolling dating apps with your full face on display”

Joel: Haha no ma’am. I’m an honest man. Only cheat at Go Fish and Yahtzee and it’s been an age since I cast my hand at either.

You: Well now I know what to watch out for 😜

You stretch your legs out under your sheets, feeling giddy that the banter is coming so easily after your awkward conversation earlier today.

You: How’s the whole tenting situation going?

Joel: Got back in this morning. House successfully fumigated. Termite threat hopefully neutralized. Fingers crossed.

You: Lucky Trish

You nibble on the side of your thumb as you wistfully beg him to take the bait.

He does.

Joel: Could be your luck too… Joel: If you want

You suddenly very much regret consuming half a bottle of rosé.

You could invite him over here, but that would be especially cruel. Unequivocally against Girl Code to fuck the man you literally met because your neighbor is also fucking him in the apartment next to you, in the apartment next to her the very next night. That’s some twisted, reverse Uno shit, and you have no desire to tempt fate or karma with that nonsense.

You: Unfortunately I’m a little intoxicated right now. And I don’t want to invoke the wrath of an otherwise peaceful neighbor by stealing her fuck buddy from right under her nose and then rubbing said nose in it by making her listen lol

At severe risk of coming off as uninterested, you quickly follow up.

You: Maybe tomorrow? I’m free all day. Would love to see what all the fuss was about last night.

He surprises you, his next response coming in the form of a short voice memo. You practically tangle your fingers into knots in your effort to smash Play.

That dripping, syrupy Southern drawl echoes out of your phone speaker.

“That’s a real shame, darlin’. But I’m free all day too. I’d love to show you…what was it you said? What I ‘have to offer’?”

The message cuts off just after a delicious little chuckle, and you stare daggers at your wine glass. Fucking bullshit little cockblocker.

You decide it’s only fitting to respond with a memo of your own, dipping your voice a little lower, more sultry to the best of your ability.

“I think I’d love that. I could come over at noon. You could have me for lunch.”

Before you can second-guess, the memo slips from your fingers and straight to Joel’s phone.

Joel: Damn. Joel: I’ll put on my bib. Got a feeling i’m gonna need it.

Your cheeks heat at the insinuation, and you sneak a hand underneath your panties to assess whether he’s right.

And, fuck, he is. You’re practically swimming in your own arousal at the mere thought of Joel being a live outlet for your pent-up sexual energy. You moan as your fingers graze your clit, but you pull them out before you lose yourself too much.

In a display of what you can only describe as bravery on your part, you aim your camera at your two soaked fingers, spreading them slowly until your slick is webbed thickly between them, translucent and alluring. Before the viscous threads break, you focus the frame and snap the photo. Caution to the wind once more, you send it off to Joel.

No more than a minute later, another voice memo pops up for your listening pleasure.

His voice sounds significantly more wrecked this time.

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl. Better save some of that for me. By the time I get my mouth on you, I’m gonna be fuckin’ famished .”

You toy with your wet fingers, only pausing a moment before slipping them between your lips and sucking off the evidence of your attraction, moaning into your empty room at the heady taste, knowing Joel will be drinking it right from the source tomorrow.

You start another voice memo.

“Lucky for you, I just did some quality assurance on your meal for tomorrow. A little taste test. I think it’ll meet your expectations. Maybe even exceed them.”

Joel responds quickly with his own memo, the message starting with a groaning sigh that is quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard until you hear what he has to say next.

“Shit, babygirl. So proud of you, bein’ so thorough for me.”

You swear you can feel the serotonin flooding your brain at his praise, only increased when he sends a short follow-up memo.

“Such a good girl for daddy.”

A shot of arousal pulses through your cunt at that word and you feel like this shit is too good to be true. At the risk of saying something stupid, you opt to just send a no-frills text back.

You: Fuck.

You already feel like you can just hear that decadent, dirty little chuckle from that first voice memo in response to your message.

Joel: Night, babygirl. See you at noon.

A text with his address tags along after. You paste it into your GPS app. Seven miles away.

You laugh, almost incredulously, to yourself.

Fucking kismet.

It takes you mere minutes to get yourself off after.

Once the haze has lifted, you’re on your wobbly feet, planning your outfit for Joel to take off tomorrow.

—-

The summer breeze fiddles with the hem of your skirt, probably too short to be wearing in any kind of windy weather, but you know what you’re about today. High hemlines, low necklines, a necklace with a tiny charm positioned at the crest of your cleavage to draw the eye, just in case he’s not the red-blooded straight American male you’ve tapped him to be.

You fidget with your dress as you make your way up Joel’s driveway, cross-checking the address number in the text with the one on the front of his house in tarnished gold numerical plates. When you’re confident you’re in the right place, you step up onto the porch, taking a deep breath before knocking on the front door.

The varnished wood creaks open moments later, revealing Joel in all his scruffy, broad glory. He’s in a basic white tee, jeans, and thick socks, and that shit has never looked so tantalizing to you, biceps straining the elastic on his tight shirt sleeves.

“Hi there,” He drawls, taking you in from head to foot and back again. You smile, doing your best to swallow the catastrophic levels of animal attraction you feel to this man just from the first glance.

He holds the door open for you and you step inside. Your first thoughts are that the home is cozy. Lived in. Picture frames on the walls of people you don’t recognize save for the ones featuring the owner of the home. A living room shooting off from the foyer with appropriately dingy couches and throw blankets strewn across them. A carpeted wooden staircase in the entryway leading to the upper level and a hallway that’s a straight shot into the homey kitchen.

It feels…like a home. But a home that has had more than one resident. You decide to delve into that at a later date.

Joel clicks the door shut behind you as you slip off your sandals and he takes your hand in his, holding it out to get the full effect of you. He pipes out a wolfish whistle as he admires your dress, the drape of it over your body.

“You are a picture, darlin’.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, fighting off the urge to succumb to your self-consciousness. “But if I’m a picture, you’re the whole fucking photo album.”

Joel tuts at you. “Don’t you start an argument about who’s the better lookin’ one of the two of us, ‘cause a bastard just might spend the rest of the day makin’ his case,” He counters with a crooked smile, petting the back of your hand with his thumb before placing a kiss to it.

“What a gentleman,” You say, an airy affect to your voice helping to mask the catching of your breath in your throat at first the touch of his lips to your person.

“Do what I can,” He chuckles, letting your hand fall, but linking a large pinky with yours as you meander down the hall. It feels strangely intimate, yet somehow settles the subtle shake in your fingers.

“Your home is lovely. Very warm. Welcoming.”

“I like to think that’s mostly my charming demeanor,” He flirts, peeking over at you as you both enter the kitchen. “Get you a drink?”

“No, I’m okay,” You throw over your shoulder as your pinkies lose contact and you wander around the kitchen island. He leans back against the counter, arms loose across his chest as he tracks your movements around his space. That feels intimate too, the casual scrutiny.

You run your hands over the clean counters, your curiosity peaking when you come across a hodge-podge of odds and ends scattered on the laminate. Screws, drillbits, drywall anchors, and a myriad of other bits and bobbles you don’t know the technical terms for.

You nudge one of the screws and send it rolling towards the backsplash. “Handyman, huh?”

“Somethin’ like that,” He affirms, glancing down at his arms and then back up at you. “I’m a, uh, contractor. My brother and I, we run a ragtag little outfit. Oversee a handful of guys. Got work all over the valley.”

“So good with your hands,” You nod with a flirtatious little smirk.

Joel gives a small laugh. “Reckon so, I guess.”

“Work on anything exciting?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. Mostly just internal construction for new small businesses in the area. Sometimes homes, kitchen remodels, that kinda thing.”

“You build this one?”

“Actually didn’t. Just ‘cause I got the know-how don’t make it easier to get all the proper permits and land and shit to build my own. And was still raisin’ a kid on my lonesome at the time. Less hassle to just buy. Did do my brother Tommy’s place though. Let him handle all the bureaucratic shit.”

You hum in understanding. “He the guy in your profile photo?”

“The very same,” He confirms with a dip of his head.

“Hmm,” You muse, the passive revelation he just dropped not at all lost on you. “A kid, huh? So, you’re, like, a proper DILF then.”

He chuckles, eyes downcast with a dash of that sheepishness. “Dunno about that. She’s long gone out the house by now.”

“How old?”

“Uh, she’ll be 29 come this December.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“What?”

“Older than me.”

His eyes pop. “Shit.”

You see a kind of cast fall over his face, like a cloud drifting its way past the sun, and you feel a twinge of guilt for digging that up. But something tells you there’s something about that concept he’s intrigued by, aroused by. He’s not blind, he knows you’re young. He knows how old his daughter is, what she looks like at her age. Maybe just didn’t quite put two and two together until you emphasized it.

You saunter toward him, your teeth sliding against your lower lip as you rest your hands on the counter at either side of him, feeling the heat of his skin radiating on your own and intent on waving off the cloud over his expression to bring back that sun.

“Good thing I like that sorta thing, I guess. Daddy…” You let that final world melt off your tongue as you look up at him, the solar flare in his eyes a perfect match for yours.

Joel’s chest rises as he inhales, blowing it out in a measured stream through his lips and shaking his head at you as his hands navigate their way to your sides, curling into the thin, stretchy cotton of your dress. “Oh, you little devil. Don’t go teasin’ me with that. Can’t be held responsible for what I do with it.”

“What?” You tease, fingertips tracing the softness giving way to muscle beneath the flimsy material of his t-shirt. “You ashamed to be putting the moves onto someone younger than your kid?”

Joel just shakes his head again, exhaling through his nose as it points to the floor. “Just makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

“Mmm,” You croon, tucking a finger under his chin and coaxing him to look at you. “But you are a dirty old man. Desperate to slide into some young, hot pussy. For a pretty little thing to call you ‘daddy’ while you do it.”

“Fuck…” He rolls off his tongue as his eyes squeeze shut and his head droops back.

“Does Trish call you daddy, too?”

Joel’s head plops back down, conflict warring on his features at the mention of your neighbor while you’re both tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge. “Shit, baby. You can’t—”

“Does she?”

He sighs, his pivoting pupils searching yours before answering, “No. She doesn’t.”

You pull a raspy little sound from your throat as you inch your face closer to his, but taking care that you can still study all of his wrinkles and micro-expressions.

“But that’s what you want. Isn’t it,” You state with no room for argument. “You want me to call you my daddy. Let you fuck me while I whisper it in your ear. And fall apart on your cock with it on my lips, where your come will probably be soon after.”

Your lips ghost over his, and you can see the shimmer in his brown irises, the sparkle of every last filthy thing he wants to subject you to for the good of his own pleasure. As you speak again, your lips brush against his, and you tilt your head back enough to capture his eyes.

“Now, which set of lips that ends up being, I’ll leave up to you.”

The tension snaps like the bite of a rubber band, and you gasp in shock as Joel’s hand flies up to your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks until your mouth is in a pout.

“Said you wanted to see if your neighbor was all talk, didn’t ya?”

He all but forces you to nod your head with his hand as you blink rapidly, him nodding along with you with his own head, almost mockingly so with you in his unyielding clutches.

“Yeah? So how’s about you stop runnin’ that pretty mouth, get on your knees, and find out for yourself.”

He maintains his grip on your face as you lower obediently to your knees, your hands slipping down the panes of his body as you go, until they sit at his thighs and you’re sat on your heels with Joel leaning slightly over you to maintain his hold in the new position.

“Good girl. Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.”

With him already pressing your cheeks together, your mouth pops open with little effort, your tongue following suit. You detect movement inside his mouth, and then he’s hovering over your face with a glint in his eyes. A thick strand of saliva drips from his mouth directly onto your waiting tongue.

You let out a brief, open-mouthed whimper as the fluid hits your tastebuds, but stay put as his spit trickles to the back of your mouth.

“How does daddy taste, babygirl? Good?”

You nod assuringly, the saliva pooling at the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl. Now swallow for daddy.”

You do so eagerly, closing your mouth to swipe your tongue against the roof and push every drop down your throat, before opening back up for him in a display of subservience.

Joel’s thumb tamps down on your tongue, stroking with minor pressure over the muscle with something like a proud smirk. “So obedient. Daddy likes that. ‘Specially when you were so mouthy a second ago.”

“I’m versatile,” You manage to enunciate with Joel manipulating your face to his liking.

“Yes, you are,” Joel praises, eyes flitting back and forth between your mouth and your blown out pupils. Without any preface this time, he shoots another wad of spit directly to the back of your mouth, and you gulp it down with as much relish as the first. Joel exhales a laugh and descends on you, slotting his mouth against yours with a decadent moan, his tongue dragging against yours as if to say good job.

You laugh into it a little bit, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck to hold him to you. He tastes fresh, like cold water and toothpaste and something else that seems to be uniquely Joel.

His kiss is commanding. Domineering in a manner that’s almost passive, intuitive. He leads, you follow. You hear the jingling of a belt, and your lips already feel plump and debauched from his tongue and teeth. When he breaks apart from you, it’s to lay his forehead against yours, peering directly into the insatiable avarice that he’s provoked inside you in an unprecedented amount of time.

You hear the grate of his zipper as he lures you in further with a teasing, “Now how’s about we see just what you can offer me .”

He pulls you in for one last tongue-caressing kiss, leaving you breathless as he props his elbows onto the counter to his back, an impressive bulge protruding within his boxer-briefs though the undone fly of his jeans.

“Right here in your kitchen?”

“Right here in my goddamn kitchen. ‘S where we eat all our meals,” Joel informs with a shade of seriousness, reaching down to pinch your chin in his fingers and successfully enrapturing your attention. “You be a good girl and choke down what daddy gives ya. Then daddy’ll have his fill. Unpack that little lunchbox you brought just for him, spread you out over the counter so he can feast as he pleases. And then he’ll pack it right back up for you, ‘cause he knows how hungry you are, huh?”

You whine from your throat and nod, “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s daddy’s good girl,” He coos. “Now take it out. Tell daddy if it’s gonna fill you up as full as you thought.”

When your hands come up to curl around the band of his boxers there’s a swirling of anticipation in your belly. You draw the suspense out for yourself, keeping your eyes on Joel’s as you tug down, his shaft bobbing in your periphery. And fuck, even just at the edge of your vision, you can tell he is impressive.

“Go on and look, babygirl. He’s all ready for ya.”

You indulge yourself then, drinking in the sight, the size of him. He’s thick, girth like you’ve never seen before on a normal person who doesn’t pull his cock out for cash. He’s long, too. Swathes of skin bulging with purple-blue veins over the rock-hard swell of him, culminating at a plump, dark red tip that’s already weeping for you.

Your mouth is far ahead of you, saliva flooding from under your tongue to signal up to your brain, I’m so fucking ready.

You subconsciously lick your lips, earning a fleeting laugh from Joel above you. “Whaddya think? Look like it’ll make a good snack ‘fore we get to the main course?”

There’s a severe lack of eloquence being crafted in your mind, forcibly being shoved out in favor of Joel. Big. Joel. Big. Lick. Taste.

Before you can filter it out, you just blurt out, “Big.”

That makes Joel chime a laugh again. “Very astute. What a smart girl daddy’s got here.”

“You were being modest outside my apartment,” You point out with a smirk. “You’re proud of how big you are.”

“Lotta talkin’ goin’ on here, babygirl,” Joel chides, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock that somehow only serves to make him look larger. “That really what you wanna be doin’ right now?”

You shake your head and nudge his hand to replace it with yours, almost comically small around the thickness of him. Joel hums out a moan as you employ the dribble from his slit to slick down his cock.

“Can I…spit on it?”

Joel’s chin drips down as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Can you? Baby, you think you gotta ask?”

You make a shallow shrugging motion as you pull at his cock with your fist. “Just trying to be a good girl.”

“Well, ‘f you ask me,” Joel replies, his voice crawling a little deeper in tone as you continue to stroke him, “a good girl always spits, then swallows.”

“Yeah?” You ask, your own voice verging on coyish innocence.

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, an edge of authority infused into the word in response to the naïveté in yours. It stirs something in your belly, something that preens and purrs and waits not-so-patiently for more of that dictatorial timbre—and maybe a firm hand to go along with it.

You find yourself yearning for the strong, steady press of his fingers against your cheeks again.

Not wanting to taint that “good girl” status as laid out by Joel, you accumulate the saliva in your mouth as you poise his length at your lips, and then round them to expel a healthy dose of spit onto the head.

Joel moans again, petting a hand over your hair as you work the lubrication down his cock. “Mmm, hand looks mighty small ‘round that big cock, don’t it?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, your speed increasing with the enhanced wetness. Your fingertips don’t touch, and that knowledge has your pussy tingling under your dress. There’s just so much of him.

Noises continue to spawn from Joel’s mouth as you pump him, twisting around the head and enthralling yourself with the precome spilling from his tip.

“Put your mouth on it, baby,” He directs, a hint of that dominance injected into the command, which you take as an indicator that he’s done with teasing, he wants to fuck something.

Fortunately, your mouth is more than willing, saliva still pooling in anticipation. You stroke him at the base as you stick out your tongue, giving him broad licks up the underside of the head and dipping into the slit. The groan Joel emits spurs you on, encasing the tip in your mouth and sucking.

“Fuck me, babygirl. So fuckin’ good. Take it deeper.”

You moan around him as you loosen your jaw and dive down onto him until he nudges at the back of your throat. The tickle has an eye-watering cough vibrating around him, but you tuck your lips over your teeth and fight through your gag reflex.

The length you still have left to take has you whimpering as you bob on him, keeping him buried toward the back until you have to release and gasp in a large breath.

“Little too big for you, darlin’?” He remarks with a tilted smile, his thumb running over your damp cheek.

You vehemently shake your head, taking him in again as you stroke what you can’t suck.

Joel groans loudly, tossing his head back as his cock drags along the back of you. His fingers grip your hair as his head falls back down, his lips glistening. “Gimme that tight little throat, babygirl. Can you do that? You ever deepthroated a big cock before?”

You whine and let him slip out of you, dripping with saliva and making up for your absence with quick, long strokes. “Not as big as you, daddy. Not even close.”

“Just let me do the tip then, babygirl. I know it’s big, but you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Y’can take it. I won’t go too deep.”

You nod, mumbling against the reddened tip, “I can do that.”

“Good girl,” He praises, nudging at the back of your head until he’s as far as you can take him without actually entering your throat. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes as you gaze up at him, and him down at you. “Just let it in. Deep breath through your nose and let daddy take your throat,” He soothes, flexing his hand in your hair.

He watches as you inhale, and then rocks his hips forward, stretching your throat open around the head of him. You choke out a whine and Joel shivers at the friction of it, white-knuckling the counter at his back with his free hand as his eyes clench shut.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby. That’s— fuck.”

He pulls you free to inhale more precious air, an expression of lust and admiration on his face as he takes in your debauched features. “So good. Doin’ so good for me. Let daddy in again.”

You suck in another breath and sink down on him, your clit beating between your legs as he breaches the tip of his cock into your throat again. It makes your brain go misty, struggling to inhale through your nose. You’ve never felt something stretch your throat like this, but it’s intoxicating. You’ve been choked before and found pleasure in that, but this is different. A complete obstruction of your airway, just for the sake of proving your sluttiness to a near-stranger.

“God, so fuckin’ tight for me. Such a tight fuckin’ girl for daddy,” He forces out through gritted teeth, gently rolling his hips to fuck your throat with his tip. Your throat constricts as you stave off your reflexes, and you know he feels it because the man goddamn whimpers.

He rips you off of him by the back of your head, panting as he rakes his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Fuckin’ Jesus. ‘Bout to bust my goddamn load, darlin’. Shit.”

Warmth blossoms in your stomach at potentially being this gorgeous man’s undoing. You watch his chest rise and fall as he reigns in his orgasm, his cock bobbing up and down, the purpling tip seeping with precome and cascading with your spit.

You automatically lean back in and place a tiny kiss to his slit, giggling at the resultant undulation of his stomach under his shirt. Joel breathes out a laugh of his own and holds a hand out for you.

“Come on. ‘S my turn.”

A little dazed, you take his hand and let him haul you up off your smarting knees, pulling you right into his chest.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” He mutters as he captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth with fervor. You collapse into it, sighing into his mouth as his tongue mingles with yours, not a care in the world about the presence of his own fluids coating your tastebuds.

You relinquish your hold on his lips, the bottom one sliding through your teeth, and mutter against him with a grin, “This is fun.”

He laughs lightly, stroking a thumb along your jaw. “Yeah? You havin’ a good time?”

“Mhmm.”

“Haven't even served the appetizer yet,” He mumbles, squeezing at your hips. “Hop up on the counter.”

He maneuvers you back and helps lift you up on the kitchen island, his hands gliding over the tops of your thighs once you’re seated.

“Been thinkin’ about this pussy since I met you in the hallway,” He shares, heat in his eyes as he looks up at you from your acquired high ground.

“Really? Slipping out of one woman’s bed just to pop a boner over another one’s pussy ten seconds later? Such a slut, Joel Miller,” You chastise, leaning back on your hands and parting your legs wider.

“Well, as you can attest to now, there’s plenty of me to go around,” He justifies with a little wink, before craning his head to whisper against your ear, “She’s never deethroated me like that neither. So what does that make you, babygirl?”

“Hmm,” You hum, pretending to actually ponder his words as he kisses along your neck. “Good at what I do?”

He snorts, nipping at your jaw, “‘S a nice way of puttin’ it. I’d’ve just called you a goddamn slut right back.”

“Mmm. Kismet, huh?” You banter back, your fingers curling against the countertop at the charged sensation of his breath over your skin.

Joel grins against your cheek, his hands slowly shifting up your dress. “Fuckin’ kismet.”

His fingers journey up higher, higher, until they hit the crease of your thigh…and he stops.

“Fuck. You’re definitely a little slut. Showin’ up to a stranger’s house with no panties?” He emphasizes his words by dipping a finger between your soaking wet folds, drawing a shiver from you.

“W-waste of time,” You stutter out, subtly rolling your hips down onto his finger. “Already knew what was gonna h-happen. Where they’d end up.”

“I’ll say,” He agrees, his finger disappearing from your center as it drags wetly back up your inner thigh with the rest of his fingers, gripping your thighs with both hands. “Already drippin’ off my fingers.”

He parts your legs with something akin to reverence, and when you’re spread out for him, fully on display, he groans as his forehead drops down onto your thigh.

“God, look at that. So fuckin’ juicy for me and I ain’t barely touched you yet. You really like chokin’ on my dick that much? Make you all drippy and desperate for your daddy?”

“Yeah,” You whimper, feeling your hole clench at his words.

“Perfect,” He sighs out, pressing up on the back of your thighs. “Feet on the counter, darlin’. Lie back.”

“But this is your kitchen counter —”

“I know what it is. What, you think a man don’t got bleach in the house? Now lie back.”

“I don't think you’re supposed to use bl—oh, fuck.”

Joel puffs out a devilish laugh into your clit as he swirls the tip of his tongue around it in dizzying circles.

“Shit, god,” You exhale, feeling a full-body shiver roll through you this time as you dance on the balls of your feet against the counter. “Ok, I’ll shut up now.”

“Don’t shut up,” He mumbles, unlatching for just a moment. “Wanna hear exactly what I do to you,” He adds with a mischievous lilt to his voice before sucking your clit back into his mouth.

“Yeah, okay. Fuck,” You sigh out, your hand blindly searching between your legs until it locates Joel’s head and grabs. Joel moans into your pussy, pulling a gasp from you in return as it pulses through your clit.

Joel’s fingernails dig into the meat of your thigh as he brings two fingers to tease down the folds of your cunt and prod experimentally at your entrance.

“Fuck, yes, please put them in, daddy,” You whine, hips seeking to suck them inside you and making Joel breathe out a laugh again.

“I got you, babygirl. You just lie back and let daddy make you feel good.”

You pick your head up from the counter, seeing the twinkle in his eye and the top of his head adorned with your fingers in his hair, and you feel your face collapsing in pleasure as he slips his fingers inside you while holding your gaze. You drop your head back on the counter a little harder than you should, and if your cunt wasn’t clamping down around his fingers right now and your clit bearing the hot, broad brunt of his tongue, you might care more. But the soft throb at the back of your skull syncs up flawlessly with the thrust of him pushing your walls open, and it just works.

You lose yourself in the slip of his tongue over your sensitive nub, your slick folds, the trace of him around where you’re stretched open around his fingers, sucking kisses at your stuffed entrance. It’s disorientingly hazy in your mind, the reality of it all. You just met this man, know next to nothing about him, whether he’s a liar or just a single father with a heart of gold and a dick of divine proportions.

But Joel crooks his fingers just right as he fucks into you and you don’t fucking care about any of that. Just care about the press of him against your most sensitive spot, how you’re fucking screaming “daddy” for him and bucking your hips against his face.

He hooks his free arm around your thigh to hold you in place, and you glance up to see pure, unadulterated hunger in his eyes as he devours you. You catch glimpses of his mustache webbed and glistening with your slick as his mouth works you over.

The passion, the intensity in his gaze has the pleasure in your belly spinning and swirling, and you know that he knows it.

“Daddy, I-I’m—”

He doesn’t even lift his mouth from your quickly spiraling pussy, he just fixes you with a look and nods.

Your fingers yank at his hair as your back arches against the laminate, feet bowing up on your tiptoes, a thousand and one words flooding your brain that you could say, if only your vocal cords were operational at this exact moment. You just see a flash of white across your vision, eek out the tiniest squeak, and feel yourself transcend for a few blissful moments.

Joel growls against your pussy, fucking you through your release with abandon until your body all but disintigrates against the countertop, your clit still pounding like a drum against Joel’s voracious lips.

He drifts off you and flops his sweaty curls against your leg as you hear him laughing a little, panting a lot.

“Oh my god,” are the first words you’re able to string together in the aftermath. Joel chuckles against your thigh, tonguing kisses up your skin and nuzzling his nose into the crease of your thigh and pussy.

“Could fuckin’ live right here,” He muses, placing a delicate kiss on your outer lips.

“I wouldn’t complain,” You sigh, muscling yourself up onto your forearms to admire the pussy-eating-glow Joel has in spades on his face.

He holds his two slicked fingers up in the air and beckons your forward with them. You heed his call, pushing yourself up until you’re sitting up, albeit rather unsteadily. Without a word, he brings them to your lips, and you open. It’s so fucking easy to open yourself up for him, you’re learning. He studies your lips as you suck yourself off of him, substantially more coated in your wetness than when you sent him that filthy picture last night. And just for a little fun, you swirl your tongue around the tips of them, in between them, just to see his eyes glaze over a bit.

He slips his fingers free and cups the back of your neck, eyes still preoccupied with the shape of your mouth. “Bring those lips over here, babygirl.”

You indulge him, indulge yourself, and revel in the press of his plump lips against yours again. His mouth moves so silkily with yours, an expert at drawing out the tension of these in-between overtures, sucking the taste of you right off your own tongue.

Resting your forehead against his, you whisper, “Can I tell you a secret?”

His eyes close as he nods, “Mhmm…”

“The other night…when I was listening…”

He pops one eye open in curiosity. “Mmm?”

Your teeth toy with your lip before you reveal to him, “I came. To the sound of your voice. The sound of you coming.”

His eyes fall closed again with a broad grin. “Goddamn. Do I got a little voyeur on my hands?” He asks, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing as his mouth finds your neck again, gradually winding you back up.

“Not intentionally,” You sigh out, your head lulling to the side with the drag of his lips. “Just couldn’t get over how sexy your voice was, even when I could barely hear your words. Just the tone of it.”

“Well, I’ll talk all you want me to, babygirl.”

“Good.”

He hums into you, flexing a hand at your hip. “I would really like to fuck you now. ‘F you’ll let me.”

“Hmm, let me think about that…” You tease, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck to pull him in and taste him again.

“Bedroom,” He mouths against your lips, helping to lift you off the counter and back onto your feet.

“Yeah,” You agree, letting him tug you along behind you up the stairs.

Your dress is on the floor in record time, your tits falling free of their confines when your bra follows, and Joel is shrugging his shirt off his shoulders when he herds you onto his bed, straddling you at the shoulders and waist.

“Look at these goddamn tits, baby. Where you been hidin’ these all this time?” He groans, burying his face in them and sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Th-th-think we were a little busy, don’t you?”

“Never too busy for tits like these,” He asserts as he trades sides, the bud popping from his mouth plumped and shiny.

You allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of his mouth on your breasts, his tongue and teeth stimulating your nipples, his hands groping the flesh of them. His exposed cock grinds against your thigh, leaving streaks of precome in its wake.

“How do you want daddy to fuck you, babygirl?” He asks, kissing his way up your chest.

You push through the haze of pleasure in your head, second-guessing what you’d already decided to say when you’d both arrived at this moment. “You’re gonna think I’m weird.”

Joel studies your face with a faint smile. “Maybe. Try me.”

After a brief silence, you decide to throw caution to the wind. Just ask for what you want. He can tell you to fuck off if it creeps him out.

“Fuck me like you fucked her.”

A flash of devilishness sparks in his eye, his smile burgeoning as he considers your words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna see how much my imagination got right.”

You see his tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he processes, eyes not straying from yours. Only growing more ravenous. “Okay,” He finally agrees, giving you a small nod. “Hands and knees, babygirl.”

Joel pushes off the bed, wriggling himself out of his lingering clothes as you eagerly get in position, peeking over your shoulder to get a nice view of this gorgeous specimen getting naked for you. Joel spies the attention quickly with you not exactly striving for subtlety, and he winks at you as he strips off his boxers.

And something about that small gesture sets off the butterflies in your stomach. Which is all well and good, you suppose, granted that given Joel’s size, they were destined to be disrupted rather imminently anyway.

Joel settles in behind you on his knees, his hands naturally gravitating to the curve of your hips as his cock bobs obscenely in the space between your bodies. He pushes and pulls at the flesh of your ass, parting it in front of him to reveal yourself to him from a different angle this time. The muted fuck he breathes out at the sight ruffles those wings in your belly again.

His middle finger slips down the center of your ass, gliding over the pucker of your asshole and descending toward your soaked opening, and your eyelids shutter closed with a sigh.

When he speaks again, it’s softer than it has been. Like the reverence that manifested when he spread your legs on the counter has found its way back to him.

“Now, I fucked her with a condom. You want me to use a condom?”

You swallow and exhale through your nose. “We should.”

“Yes we should,” He echoes, and his finger pushes into you with ease.

“Don’t.”

His finger freezes. “Don’t?”

“No, not—” You try to clarify, huffing a breath out through your mouth this time. “Don’t use one. Fuck me bare. I’m clean. And on birth control. You’re…you’re clean, right?”

Joel’s finger starts to move again, but slowly, fucking into you at a glacially agonizing pace that has your breath hitching in your chest, building that heat in your core once again while barely even trying.

“I’ve been clean since the last time I fucked someone bare. But I don’t know about after. You okay with that?”

You sigh, “This is fucking stupid right? We shouldn’t.”

Joel nods behind you, quietly slipping in a second finger along with the first and evoking a near-undetectable moan from you, while he commiserates your own sentiments once more.

“It is stupid. And we shouldn’t.”

“God,” You moan, floating your head back onto your shoulders as you gradually rock your hips back to meet the maddening thrusts of his fingers. “Just…fucking do it.”

Joel’s fingers still inside you once more, shoved in all the way up to the webbing between them, as he bends over you, cupping your hip in his other hand and ghosting his lips over your ear. “I need you to be real sure, darlin’. ‘Cause once I start, once I feel this perfect pussy wrapped around my naked cock, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”

Joel twists and curls his fingers inside you, and your toes curl along with it as you gasp at the press of them against your sweetest spot. You swallow thickly again and affirm, “I’m sure that I wanna feel your bare cock inside me.”

Joel’s forehead makes a home between your shoulder blades, moaning as he places a kiss where his lips land on your spine, and grinding out a wrecked and reedy, “Fuck. Alright. Then daddy’ll fuck this cunt raw.”

You whimper as Joel’s fingertips massage at that spot inside you, his other hand coming around to circle your clit, all pretense of dragging out your pleasure abandoned.

“But I need to feel you come around my fingers again first, babygirl. Be a good girl for daddy.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, vestiges of your activities downstairs culminating with the torturous tease of his fingers winding you up for the last several minutes, and now the sweet, slippery, calloused drag of his skilled touch rubbing at your clit. All in all, it takes him less than thirty more seconds before you’re tiptoeing the edge.

“I-I’m—” The words don’t even have the opportunity to claw their way out of your mouth before you’re shattering on him for the second time this afternoon, pulsing around his fingers in a silent scream as he mutters the sweetest encouragements into your skin.

His hand is wet when he uses it to stroke down your side, squeezing and smacking your ass lightly as your legs tremble under you and you float back down to earth.

“That’s a good girl. All soaked and ready for my cock now, huh?”

As your brain cells continue relearning how to assemble words, you just nod, muttering some mottled version of yeah that sounds alien even to your own ears. But the incoherency makes him laugh, which makes you smile, and it helps ground you.

Joel takes his cock in hand and slicks it up with the wetness clinging to your folds, your stomach seizing when he grazes your sensitive clit. It sits between your lips as Joel leans over, rifling through his side table and coming up with a small bottle of lube.

When you protest slightly, he insists, “Just wanna make this feel as good as fuckin’ possible for you, baby. I know you’re already drenched. But you’ve seen how big daddy is. Need all the help we can get.”

He’s liberal with the lubrication, anointing your hole and his cock and lining himself up. And at the first light press, his size feels insurmountable. Skin stretching, pulling apart in every direction as his head makes room for itself. You whimper into the side of your arm, biting into the flesh as the pain flares.

“I know, baby,” He coos in your ear, his inching forward more akin to centimeters as he takes his time entering you. “Daddy’s real big, huh? Too much for this tight little pussy?”

“It’s just so…” Your words trail off in a moan as he slips further inside, almost fully seated within your walls. “God, it’s so fucking big.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Fuck no,” You gasp out, your hand reaching out to dig your nails into his hip to prevent him from retreating.

“Mmm,” He moans, sucking your lobe into his mouth and tugging with his teeth as he bottoms out inside you, feeling you clench around him as he brushes your cervix. “Knew you could take it all. Slutty little thing.”

“F-feels like I’m splitting in half,” You let out shakily, your fingers trembling where they indent his hip.

“Well,” Joel grunts out as he withdraws to the tip and pauses to whisper in your ear, “I guess good ol’ Trish was right,” and then slams the full length of him back into you again.

The scream you release grates against your vocal cords, has your fingernails threatening to pierce through the cotton of his duvet, has your knees sliding further apart on the bed, dropping your ass down. Firm hands dig into your hips and haul you back up just in time for Joel to fuck into you again. And again. And again. Until the rhythmic slapping together of your skin perpetuates the illusion in your mind that it’s failing to keep tempo with the sound of it reverberating off his bedroom walls. Or maybe your hearing is just failing you in favor of zeroing in on the stretch of Joel’s cock inside of you.

That must be it, because you don’t even realize that you’re still screaming, still shouting obscenities about his size, his pace, just him, until you register Joel in your ear, growling at you, “Yeah, let me fuckin’ hear it baby. Let me hear how you take it. How big is daddy’s cock inside you, babygirl? ‘S’it as big as you wanted?”

He must categorize your half-intelligible slurs of, “Yes, fuck, so fucking big, daddy please ,” as plenty satisfactory, because he just keeps going. One of his hands buries itself into the hair at your scalp and pulls, yanking your head up until your view shifts from pillows and sheets to stark white ceiling. A grunt pushes its way past your throat as the arch of your neck compresses your skin against your throat and Joel bottoms out inside you again, grazing the end of you in the most glorious, transcendent fashion.

“Shame there’s not someone in the next room over hearin’ what I’m doin’ to you, ain’t it?” Joel coos in your ear again, his thrusts going more liquid, like honey drizzling off its dipper into the jar. He slides languidly inside you to the hilt, dragging out with the suction of sweet molasses luring him back in. It devastates you in an entirely new way, has you hanging off his words with blanching fingertips. “Though, I’d wager you’re screamin’ loud enough to perk up some ears in the houses down the street.”

You moan at the thought, at the notion of people hearing Joel destroy you just like you overheard him doing to your neighbor. Right now, you couldn’t give a shit if the entire world knew how good this man is making you feel. Your friends, your family, the goddamn Pope for all you care. Just as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

You are absolutely, without a sliver of a doubt, irrefutably positive that you have never felt this full. Despite Trish’s own words, god bless her, you never could have prepared yourself for the battering ram that is Joel’s cock ravishing your cunt. In your experience, dicks of any size can be fulfilling; dicks of any size can be unfulfilling. But heaven help you, Joel has the length, the girth, and the motion down pat. Throw on top the scintillating monologue of filth spilling into your ear like the sweetest poison, and goddamn it, this man could have you professing your love for him within the hour.

“Love this fuckin’ pussy, baby. So goddamn tight around me. Tell me how it feels,” He growls through his teeth as he steps up his pace again, your head jostling with the thrusting of his hips and the strands of your hair stinging at the back of your skull.

“So perfect. So fucking perfect. Love your cock, daddy,” You sob, your hair slipping through Joel’s fingers and your head falling forward as he releases his grip, instead wrapping his hand at the slope of your shoulder into your neck to pull you backward into his pistoning hips.

“‘S it big? ‘S it as big as you wanted when you heard me fuckin’ someone else with it?”

“Yes, daddy! So big. Bigger than I ever could’ve—oh god ,” You cut yourself off as Joel hits you so fucking right inside, and suddenly words aren’t so doable anymore.

And for the first time in your life, you think a man is going to make you come three times in a single day. Hell, in an hour. A man you just fucking met, a man who 48 hours ago was nothing more than a velvety hum and a few dirty words on the other side of your wall. And now he’s made a space for himself inside your body, coaxing orgasms out of you as easily as he had you calling him “daddy”.

“Daddy, I’m-I’m gonna fucking come again,” You whine, and Joel is already sliding the hand on your hip in between your legs, circling your throbbing clit with his fingers.

“Little cunt is putty in my fuckin’ hands, huh, babygirl? Don’t matter what I give you–my mouth, my fingers, my cock–just a thirsty little bitch for any piece of me you can get. Come on, come for me again, darlin’. Come for your daddy. All over his big fuckin’ cock.”

With that, your eyes roll back as your pussy spasms around his hard length, your body convulsing as his fingers tease out your release from you. The pummelling of his dick inside your cunt, the magic of his touch on your sensitive clit has your orgasm seeming to float through every vein in your body, not stopping until it’s fried every one of your nerve endings in the process.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s–god, pussy feels too fuckin’ good,” He grits out, fingers and cock still doing their due diligence to draw out your pleasure as long as possible. “Tell me to come in this fuckin’ cunt.”

You whimper, nodding your head rapidly as your high finally starts to fizzle out and the pounding of his dick increases in intensity as he approaches his own climax.

“Uh-uh, I need to hear it, babygirl. Tell me to come in this stretched-out little cunt,” He grunts out, his voice going a little breathy as he struggles to stem his release.

“P-please, daddy! Please come in my little pussy, fucking need it so bad,” You sputter out, using what energy you have left to throw yourself back onto his cock.

Joel groans deep from his chest as his hips snap forward once, twice more before he’s shooting his load inside your already dripping, waiting cunt. Joel’s mouth descends on your shoulder, his teeth burrowing into the skin as his cock pulses.

Your racing heart begins to slow as the moments pass, Joel’s mouth unearthing from the craters excavated in your flesh, sucking lazy, soothing kisses to the impressions. You hum at the calming slide of his mouth, his cock softening but staying put right where you’re convinced it belongs for the rest of the day.

You let out a little squeak when Joel nips playfully at your shoulder, knocking your head against Joel’s as you mutter with a lighthearted grin, “Eat your heart out, Trish.”

Joel breathes out a laugh, capturing your lips in a lazy, sloppy kiss. Strong hands wind around your waist and pull you back against him, Joel sitting on his heels with his length still buried inside you and your heads craning to savor the afterglow.

“You’re somethin’ else,” He mumbles into your mouth, hand sneaking up to squeeze at your tit.

“As long as I’m something,” You tease back, intertwining your fingers with his over your breast.

“I’d really like to do this again.”

“I would too.”

“Might not even have to take my cock out of this glorious little pussy in the meantime.”

You laugh a little, nestling your forehead into the curve of his neck. “I meant more like…I’d like to do this whole thing again. In the future.”

He tilts his head toward you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Joel affirms his hold on you and plants a kiss on your head. “I like the sound of that too.”

You stay there, secure in his arms, his spend pooling where he’s lodged inside you. You gradually feel him harden once more and you fall onto your back, letting him unravel you all over again on his cock. Taking you a little slower this time, a little longer, fucking his come back into you with each heavy stroke and smearing it over his shaft, into the tufts of hair at his base, dripping down his balls. And after he brings you to orgasm a toe-curling, limb-tingling fourth time, he makes you tell him again. Tell him to spill himself into your body, fill you up with more than just his paralyzing length. And this time he spreads open your thighs, watches as you push it out of your ravaged hole onto his disheveled bedding, and showers you with praise.

You lie sated and exhausted on his bed as he wipes between your legs with a damp cloth and settles down next to you, pulling your back into his chest and draping his chin over your shoulder. Your bones relax into him as his breathing balances.

“That was… the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. No contest,” You finally admit, at risk of it going straight to his head.

“Me too,” He reciprocates, inhaling deeply as he squeezes around you. “All that fuckin’ kismet,” He chuckles in your ear.

You hum, unable to wipe the smile from your face as his breath dances over you. As he kisses down your neck, you sigh. “Remind me to send Trish a fruit basket.”

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blowedtvhead · 5 months

Text

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳

Dr. Veritas Ratio x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your stuck-up philosophy professor is impossible and makes your class incredibly difficult, so to get your grade up there's only one thing left that you can do.

Warnings: slight age gap (dr. ratio is probs late 20s-early 30s and reader is early 20s), dubcon, dom!dr ratio, sub!reader, blowjobs, petnames (darling, slut), cum swallowing, praise kink, degradation kink, doggy style, missionary, vaginal sex, sir kink, cervix fucking lowkey, and creampie

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Is this basically literary porn (especially with a title like this)? Yes. Yes, it is. I do not regret anything. Lmao, I put a LOT of effort into this (more than I thought I would)

Your philosophy professor is among the most conceited and arrogant people you have ever met. Whenever he gives a lecture, he refuses to slow down when asked and expects everyone in the class to understand what he just taught everyone. He’s an impossible teacher. At first, you were excited to take his class since it’s hard to get into (given you need special permission to attend). Not to mention his striking good looks, which at first captivated everyone. However, his personality did not make up for his good looks.

Your grade is not good, and you need a way to change it. Dr. Ratio didn’t give any extra credit opportunities, but maybe if you meet with him, he’ll change his mind.

So, you wait until after one class so you can corner him. Usually, you would email him, but he’s not the most reliable with that, meaning cornering is the only practical way.

As everyone files out of the lecture hall, you walk over to him. His deep eyes look over the notes he showed earlier as he huffs a bit. His long fingers grip the thin paper as if he’s handling a soft feather. You’re starting to rethink your decision, but by then, Dr. Ratio had noticed you staring at him.

“Miss Y/N?” he asks. You look at his face, and his eyes watch your face change to one of embarrassment and insecurity. “Is there something you need?”

“Uh, I…wanted to ask…” your nerves make it difficult for you to speak up. His expression shows one of boredom. His eyes tell you that time is precious. You take a breath, trying to gain some confidence. “I wanted to ask if we could meet to discuss some things.” Your voice was faulty, but you made your point. Dr. Ratio gives you a small smile.

“Is that right?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say more confidently. “I’m willing to meet at any point whenever we both have the time.”

“I see,” he says and leans back away from you. He thinks for a bit before saying something. “How about now?”

“Huh?” you’re shocked by his presumptiousness.

“I have nothing more today, so we talk in my office now. If you’re free, I’d hate for you to miss your other classes,” he says. His eyes burned bright under his shaggy blue hair.

“I’m free now,” you reply almost meekly.

“Perfect. Why don’t we head to my office then?” he suggests. You nod and become flustered while walking behind him, following him. You didn’t expect him to agree just like that, not to mention you’re going to be alone with him in his office. He leads you up to his office and opens it to reveal a quaint little space. There are two bookshelves on the back wall across from the door, a desk with two chairs that lean against the window, and a small sofa on the other side of the room across the windows. He uses his hand to gesture inside, which you do. You hug your bookbag and softly sit on the chair that faces the windows. Dr. Ratio closes the door before sitting across from you at his desk.

“So, what would you like to discuss?” he asks, his hands clasped together on the desk.

“Well,” you start. “I wanted to ask if I can get some extra–” he cuts you off.

“I don’t give extra credit. I said that on the first day,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I-I know, but I really want to get my grade up and pass with a decent grade,” you plea. “I don’t want my GPA to drag down.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but–” you cut him off this time.

“Please, I’ll do anything. I really need to pass this class,” you plea still. He chuckles.

“You really should not use the phrase ‘I’ll do anything,’” he tells you. “It might give someone the wrong impression.” Your face grows hot when you realize the implications he’s talking about. You think about it briefly, concluding that there is no way that would even work.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things…” you trail off, making the awkward silence even worse. You look down at the desk, contemplating how to drop his class without making it affect your transcript. Dr. Ratio eyes you for a bit; your innocence intrigues him. Your presumptuousness not only caught him off guard initially (in a good way), but now your lack of expertise in conversation in his presence is amusing in some way. He laughs again.

“How about this…” he gets up from his desk and walks closer to you. He stands right beside you before continuing. “You can try with everything you have to try and really convince why you deserve a higher grade, hmm?” Your eyes widen largely at his proposal. “And I mean everything.”

“I…” you can’t the shakiness of your words.

“Of course, you don’t have to, but who’s to say you’ll get a better grade?” he says, half joking. Everything up til now seemingly has been happening so fast. However, you do need this grade desperately. You look up at him, and his frame seems much taller now that he’s so close. Your embarrassment and cute demeanor really are quite something.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask. His gold eyes stare down at you, the cogs in his mind turning to figure out what he would like you to do first. After some deliberation, he figures it out.

“Why don’t you use that cute mouth of yours?” he asks. You look up at him with surprise.

“Al-Alright,” you agree, put aside your bag, and slowly slide off the chair onto the floor. You make eye contact with him again, and he gestures to you with his chin for you to do what to prepare. “Professor?” you ask meekly.

“Yes?” he replies.

“Shouldn’t we lock the door?” you ask.

“Smart idea, Miss Y/N,” he compliments, making you grow warm. He swiftly moves to the door and turns the latch on the lock. He notices your reaction to his compliment. “Oh? Like being praised?” Even warmer now. “How cute.”

He returns to you, and the tent in his pants makes you a bit nervous, but you are not turning back now. You take his belt off and unzip his dark blue pants, revealing his boxers. You cup his bulge and prepare yourself. Your professor huskily breathes out when he feels your hand touch him. You move his cock out from his boxers and let his clothing fall to the floor. His cock leaks tiny beads of precum, and you lick your lips. You shift in your position, your thighs clenching. You look up at him as you begin to lick the tip. His gold eyes look down at you, his dark hair almost covering his eyes.

You swirl the tip with your tongue and watch his face grow red and his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me,” he mutters. “You got to earn that good grade.” You hum in response, and the vibration of your mouth makes your professor shudder a bit. You open your mouth more and take his cock farther into your mouth. Your eyes prickle with tears as his cock reaches deep into your throat. You motion back, and his tip is at your tongue again, causing you to tease the tip again. You use your hand to jerk him off while your tongue is preoccupied. Your professor smiles darkly and clicks his tongue.

“You’re not going fast enough, darling,” he tells you. The petname makes you wince. “Don’t make me fuck your mouth myself. I won’t be as gentle.” With his words, you find a new confidence and once again lower your mouth so his cock goes deeper. “That’s a good girl.” You moan at his words again and use your hand and mouth to begin a rhythm of going up and down his cock. His husk is breathing, and low moans are urging you on. The sound of his cock reaching your throat makes your head spin. You can’t help the moans that are coming from you.

“Jesus, fuck,” your professor curses. “Talented aren’t you?” His head tilts back, and his hand grips the edge of his desk. You don’t stop your motions even when your spit begins to leak from your mouth and onto the floor. His cock begins to twitch within your mouth, and you know he’s about to cum. He grabs your chin and stops your mouth. He motions for you to open your mouth while you spit strings along his wet cock. Your hand pumps his shaft as he shoots his load into your eager mouth. His smile is dark as he inspects his cum in your mouth. “Swallow it,” he commands. You do so without any more prompting. Your throat stings while your seating position makes your thighs burn.

You catch your breath as you stand up. Your professor clicks his tongue again.

“You’re not done, you know,” he says. “I intend to take you in more ways than just one.” You didn’t expect him to say that. “Turn around and lean against the desk.”

You do as he says and lean your palms against the cold desk with your plush butt out for him. He fondles you before grabbing your shorts and panties and swiftly pulling them down.

“You take direction so easily, don’t you?” he asks from behind you, his words beside your ear. “Maybe you’re dirtier than I initially thought.” He moves his hand to the front of your body, traveling down to your exposed pussy. He rubs two fingers over your pussy lips, finding it dripping with wetness. He kisses your neck and holds your hip with his other hand, and thrusts his cock into you. You knock slightly forward from the shock, but your professor’s strong arms hold you steady. “My darling little slut.”

You moan, feeling his cock inside you and his hand on your clit.

“Pro-Professor,” you moan.

“Call me Veritas,” he whispers.

“Veritas,” you repeat. Hearing his name fall from your lips is almost like the perfect aria.

“That’s a good slut,” he says, and the combination of words makes you quiver. He moves his cock out of you and slams back into you with his waist clapping against your ass. You whimper at the feeling. Veritas wanted to get you used to his cock, but he wanted to fuck you so badly and make you his. He grips you tightly and begins his fast assault of thrusts. You cry out, feeling his cock going in and out of you at such a rapid pace. The sound of his snaps snapping into you becomes louder with every thrust.

As you moan loudly, Veritas curses behind you.

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re so hot and tight, shit.” He can’t help the moans that slip from his mouth either. “You feel so fucking good.” His fingers begin to circle your clit almost to a similar rhythm to his thrusts.

“Ah! Ve-Veritas,” you moan. Your thighs start to spread to give his cock and hand more access to you. You seem to love his cock as much as he loves your pussy.

“Feels good?” he asks, amused.

“Mm! Fuck, yes!” you cry. He circles your clit faster, expert fingers playing the bundle of nerves easily as if he’s playing an instrument he’s all too familiar with.

“Want to cum, darling?” he asks. His thrusts shift, and he can hit a spot within you that weakens your knees.

“Ye-Yes! Please! Please let me cum!” you beg. His chuckle feathered your neck.

“Then cum all over my cock,” he tells you. His fingers pinch your clit, and your elbows shake. You quickly cum all around his cock, coating it sweetly. You loosen from his grip and fall to the desk under you. Your heart is beating a mile a minute with heavy breaths, and your pussy is still gushing your orgasm. Veritas admires your fucked out self. You shift your body so your back presses against the desk and see your professor’s expression. He is obsessed with how he made you feel and how you made him feel. You notice his hand is gripping his still-hard cock that is covered in your essence. His hair sticking to his forehead, giving him a glow. You want him even more.

You grab your top and force it off yourself. He watches you remove your clothing, eyeing you like his prey. You remove your bra just as fast, and he loves that you’re so willing. He leans down and kisses you for the first time. His fingers find your nipples and rub them, making you moan into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss your neck and shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling on his button-down shirt.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he whispers. His cock slowly pushes into you like before. Your pussy quivers at the feeling of cock pushing through it’s overstimulated walls. He kisses you as he moves his cock to pick up a rhythm for you both. His kisses are wet and needy as his tongue explores your mouth with precision. You hum and moan as you feel Veritas reach deep into your pussy. His hands continue to grope your chest and pinch your nipples. He’s so good at everything. One of your hands finds his blue locks and clutches them desperately. You feel your body heat up from everything. He breaks the kiss once again as he moans in your ear.

“Ah, shit, you’re pussy’s so hot,” he says. “Fucking Christ.” You hug your legs around his waist, keeping him close.

“It’s all for you, sir,” you say between broken moans.

Oh. Sir? That changes everything.

“Call me that again,” he commands, his thrusts cease immediately.

“S-Sir,” you mutter. He kisses you again. His hips move back up again, and every thrust kisses your cervix, knocking you back. The sound of your hips meeting and the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked fills your ears. More than your or Veritas’ moans. His pace becomes erratic, and his cock begins to twitch within you. His hands grip your body tighter as he chases his orgasm. He bucks his hips deep into you once more and cums hard inside you. His low moan resonates despite his mouth being preoccupied.

You both pull apart from the kiss to bask in each other’s afterglow. Both looking into each other’s eyes. Still hardly believing what just transpired truly transpired.

After a few minutes, your professor pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you both wince from the loss. His cum drips and drools out of you when his cock is entirely out of you. He caresses your thighs and hips.

“Did I do well?” you ask. He chuckles before answering.

“Most certainly,” he replies. “Though if I’m being honest, I think a few more private sessions like this would benefit your grade highly.” You giggle.

“I am certainly willing to do that,” you answer.