#long way home drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whosashan · 1 month ago

Note

hello! good day to youuu, can i make a request for the lads men? in which reader is not the mc and here's the prompt: having to beg them to do something with you then seeing them doing it with mc willingly, sorry english is not my first language but pleaaaseeee 😭 i love some angst.

Bitter

Pt. 2

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Watching the one you love partake in what you once pleaded to share—a quiet betrayal—feels like an arrow through the heart, swift and merciless. (angst, no comfort)

A/N: Thank you for the request, it came out more as a drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Xavier

What a bitter, gutting thing it was—to stand in the shadows and watch him shine for someone else. To see the light in his eyes, the easy laughter, the quiet devotion as he did for her what he had never done for you.

The one thing you once begged for. The one thing he had denied you.

But not her. Never her.

She was fate’s beloved, the one woven from the same celestial thread as him, bound to him in ways you never could be. You had always told yourself to be rational, to be understanding. Xavier came with a past. He came with baggage.

And inside that baggage, nestled close to his heart, was her.

The woman you would envy until the world turned to dust.

And yet—how could you ever bring yourself to hate her? When she was made of kindness, of soft edges and warm light? When she looked at you with nothing but affection, oblivious to the ruin she left in her wake? She was an angel. A blessing. A curse.

And fate, it seemed, had always been on her side.

So there they were, walking side by side, woven together so seamlessly it was almost poetic. Almost cruel. Her bags in his hands, the weight of them carried so effortlessly—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, when you had asked for the same—just a simple day together, just a moment of his time—he had sighed, shaken his head, told you he was too tired. That work was too much. That he simply couldn’t.

But now, watching him with her, you couldn’t help but wonder—did she take his exhaustion away? Did her presence breathe new life into him in a way you never could?

The answer settled deep in your bones, cold and unrelenting.

Your friend beside you said nothing, only looking at you with that quiet, suffocating pity that made your stomach turn. Because there was nothing to say. Nothing to soften the truth you had known all along.

You were not his first thought in the morning. You were not the name on his lips when he passed a garden of wildflowers. You were not the presence lingering in his mind when the world grew quiet.

And you never would be.

You had spent so long fighting against it. Xavier loves me. He chose me. The words had been your lifeline, a fragile, trembling thing you whispered into the silence. But even your friends never seemed convinced.

And now, neither were you.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do.

You turned away.

No confrontation. No desperate pleas for an explanation that would only come laced with half-truths and empty reassurances. What good was honesty when it had never been yours to begin with?

When he came home that night, his lips still curved with the ghost of a smile, he found an emptiness he had never felt before. Your things, your presence—gone, as if you had never been there at all.

And in your place, only a single note remained.

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. Because clearly, it was never me."

And Xavier, poor Xavier, would stand there, reading those words over and over, grasping at the fraying edges of something he had never truly held onto.

But then again—

Xavier had never noticed his wrongdoings.

Not until there was nothing left but the weight of his own ruin.

Zayne

Zayne—or Dr. Zayne, as she called him—had always been a good man. A gentleman in every sense. Caring, affectionate, endlessly considerate.

But never for you.

His tenderness felt practiced, his affections routine. As if he wasn’t loving you, but fulfilling some unspoken obligation. A kindness given not out of devotion, but out of mere habit.

And you had tried to ignore it. Swallowed your doubts, convinced yourself you were overthinking.

Until you saw them together.

Her.

The one fate had tied him to. The one who never had to ask for his attention, because it had always belonged to her.

Her laughter lit up rooms before she even stepped inside. Her eyes gleamed like sunlight catching on water—brilliant, hypnotic, impossible to look away from. And neither could he.

And then, there was the picture.

A simple post, one she likely uploaded without a second thought, oblivious to the quiet devastation it would bring.

There she was, sitting in his office. Smiling. At ease.

Sharing lunch with him.

Something you had never been allowed to do.

You had asked once—just to drop by, to see him, to spend even a sliver of time together in the place he spent most of his days. But he had refused, brushing you off with a gentle but firm, “I don’t want distractions.”

And yet, there she was, sitting across from him, urging him to eat the food she had made, as if she had every right to be there. And maybe she did.

They had known each other forever. That was what you told yourself—Of course, they’re close. Of course, they understand each other in ways I never will. You had tried to accept it. To be understanding.

But then you saw the way he looked at her in the picture.

The softness in his eyes. The quiet, unguarded devotion.

Like she was the only one who could unravel him, the only one who could slip past his carefully built walls.

You had spent so long trying to do the same, but you never even made a crack.

And so, that was the moment you made a promise to yourself.

You would not be someone’s second choice. You would not collect the scraps of his affection while she—effortless, radiant, destined—was given everything you had ever wanted.

And Zayne noticed.

He noticed in the silence. In the missed calls that went unanswered, the messages left on read. In the bouquets left wilting at your doorstep, the petals curling at the edges.

Roses.

Her favorite flowers.

Not yours.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Zayne was never the gentleman you thought he was.

Or perhaps, he was. Just never for you.

Or maybe—maybe it was fate itself that was cruel.

Rafayel

Something inside you cracked, splintering like fragile seashells beneath careless hands—shattered beyond repair, beyond mending.

It wasn’t a sudden break. No, it had been slow, creeping in like the tide, eroding the edges of your love bit by bit, pulling pieces of you away before you could even notice you were unraveling.

And now, the final wave had come, and it had taken everything with it.

Because there he was—your Rafayel—kneeling beside her, smiling in a way you had longed to be the cause of.

The sight alone stole the breath from your lungs.

You had spent so long pretending not to notice. Ignoring the way his gaze always sought her out, the way his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to her. You had swallowed the ache, told yourself it didn’t matter.

"That’s just the way he is," you had whispered, time and time again.

But it had never been the way he was.

It had only ever been the way he was with you.

And now, you knew why.

Rafayel hated cats.

You remembered the way his nose had scrunched when you had once tried to feed a stray by the docks, the way he had flicked his fingers as if to ward the creature away. “Little beasts,” he had muttered, half-amused, half-disgusted. “I don’t understand how you humans tolerate them.”

You had laughed then, nudging him playfully. “You’re just jealous they’re cuter than you.”

And yet—here he was.

Crouched beside her, cradling a trembling kitten in careful, delicate hands, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His touch—usually teasing, fleeting, always just out of reach—was steady, warm, tender.

For her.

Not for you.

Something cold curled around your ribs, sinking deep, making it harder to breathe.

It was never about the kitten.

It was never about the things he couldn’t do.

It was about the things he never wanted to do for you.

And watching him now, so unguarded, so effortlessly kind, made you wish you had never met him at all.

Rage and sorrow burned through your veins, curling beneath your skin like a sickness. You wanted to rip that stupidly charming smile from his face, wanted to demand why he had never looked at you like that.

But there was no point.

So you turned and walked away.

Ignoring reality, just as you had once tried to ignore fate.

But fate never ignored you.

And something in the air told you—Rafayel wouldn’t either.

Sylus

Sylus had never been an easy man to love.

Sharp edges, cold precision—every move calculated, every word spoken with intent. He was not a man swayed by sentiment, nor was he one to entertain trivial affections.

You had known this from the start.

And yet, knowing had never stopped you from wanting.

So you learned to take what little he gave you—stolen moments in the dead of night, whispered conversations where he let the ice thaw just enough for you to believe there was something beneath it. But always, always, he kept his distance, his affections measured, restrained.

"This is who I am," he had told you once, when you asked why he never let himself soften. "I don’t have the luxury of being gentle."

You had believed him.

Until now.

Until you saw him, standing there in the dim glow of a high-rise restaurant, his head tilted ever so slightly toward her. The woman fate had written into his story, the one whose presence seemed to unravel him in ways you never could.

His fated one.

And in front of them, two untouched glasses of wine.

Wine.

The very thing he had refused to share with you.

"I don’t drink with others," he had said once, his voice clipped, final. "It's a pleasure reserved for my time alone."

But now, here he was. Sharing a glass with her. His fingers resting idly against the stem of his glass, his expression unreadable yet undeniably present. He was here. Fully. With her.

A man who never entertained distractions, utterly enthralled.

The way he looked at her—it was something different. Something you had never been granted. There was no calculation in his gaze, no careful restraint. No cold, distant amusement.

Just quiet acceptance. As if she had been meant to sit beside him all along.

And that was when you knew.

You could tear yourself apart, try to become everything he had ever wanted, and it still wouldn’t matter. Because fate had already made the choice for him.

And it wasn’t you.

Still, you lingered a moment longer, letting the pain settle, letting it carve its lesson deep into your ribs.

And then, without a word, you turned and left.

Because you, too, could learn to be cold.

Caleb

Caleb had always been warm. That was the problem.

He had a way of making you believe you belonged there—tucked into his arms, held close by quiet promises and easy smiles. He made you think you mattered.

But there was always her.

His childhood best friend.

Not bound by fate, not chosen by some cosmic force—just there. Always. In every story he told, in every old memory that made his eyes soften with something you could never quite reach. The one who had been with him before you, the one who had held his hand through storms you’d never even known existed.

And you told yourself it wasn’t a competition.

Until the night you saw them.

The neon lights of the karaoke bar cast the whole street in a soft glow, music and laughter spilling from inside as you walked past—until something, someone, made your steps falter.

Through the open doors, past the booths and glowing screens, you saw him.

Caleb.

Standing there, microphone in hand, singing.

With her.

The sight knocked the breath from your lungs.

"I don’t like singing in front of people," he had told you once, shaking his head with a sheepish smile when you begged him to join you for just one song. "It’s embarrassing. I just—I can’t, okay?"

But now, here he was.

Swaying slightly, smiling as their voices blended together in a song you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t perfect—his voice cracked in places, he missed a beat or two—but that didn’t matter. Because he was trying. Because he was enjoying it.

Because she made him feel safe enough to do what he had never done for you.

Your stomach twisted.

It had never been about singing.

It had been about you.

You should have walked away then. Should have swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back, should have spared yourself the cruel spectacle of watching them.

But you didn’t.

You stayed long enough to see the way he laughed when she nudged him playfully. The way he looked at her, unguarded, free. The way she reached for his hand without hesitation—because she knew it would always be there, waiting for her.

And for the first time, you realized—maybe you had never been holding his hand at all. Maybe you had only been grasping at the space he left behind.

Something cold settled in your chest.

You didn’t wait for him to notice you.

You just turned, and left, without a sound.

And Caleb, too caught up in a song meant for someone else, never even saw you go.

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seongwars · 4 months ago

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Word Count: 497 Warnings: yandere!Caleb, dad!Caleb, dash of fluff, hints of breeding kink, baby trapping and coercion, 2 swear words, mention of pregnancy, not proofread Summary: Caleb comes home from another expedition

a/n: I had to take a break from writing strangers by nature because i was making myself sad so uhh here's a caleb drabble

“Daddy’s home!”

Your four year old jumped up from his Legos, bolting to the door with your chubby toddler hot on his heels. The front door creaked open just in time for Caleb to brace himself as the boys launched into his arms.

It wasn’t easy, being the wife of the fleet’s colonel. Caleb’s expeditions often kept him away for weeks at a time, leaving you to hold down the fort with your two boys and the endless chaos they brought with them.

But moments like this made it all worth it. Seeing the way the boys lit up as they reunited with their father made all the waiting worth it. Not to mention the nasty, sloppy, back bending, toe curling, eye rolling, reunion sex–hence your five month baby bump.

Despite the exhaustion etched into his features, Caleb still made time for all of you. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t miss a parent teacher conference, who insisted on reading every bedtime story no matter how tired he was.

On Saturday mornings, he’d stand in the kitchen, attempting to make dinosaur shaped pancakes while the boys watched in awe.

“Daddy, how do you do that?” your four year old learned forward on the counter with his elbows. Beside him, your two-year-old waved his chubby hands in the air, babbling his own version of the question.

“It’s all in the flick of the wrist, buddy,” Caleb grinned, flipping the pancake.

Sometimes the “dinosaur” ended up looking more like a blob, but to the boys, it was nothing short of magic. They clapped and cheered as Caleb plated his creation, declaring it a Whateversaurus Rex or the dinosaur of the day as conjured by your husband.

And so, yes, you’d let this man keep you pregnant. How could you not? Every time you thought about saying no, about maybe slowing down and letting your body recover between pregnancies, he’d look at you with those adoring puppy eyes and pull you into his strong arms, leaving you utterly undone.

But you didn’t notice the way his eyes darkened when you said yes again, or the way his touch lingered just a second too long on the curve of your belly. To you, it was devotion, a husband marveling at the miracle of life, his love for you and your growing family.

But to him, it was victory.

Because Caleb wasn’t just a loving husband. He was a man who refused to let you slip through his fingers. The thought of you walking away, of a life where you weren’t his in every sense of the word, was unthinkable.

Everytime he had you folded into a mating press murmuring “just one more for me, baby" he was ensuring that you stayed right where you belonged—bound to him in every possible way as he fucked his seed over and over into your cunt.

You belonged to him. And he’d make sure it stayed that way forever.

#love and deepspace #caleb lads #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #caleb #caleb drabble #lads drabble #lnds drabble #caleb x reader

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emisluvr · 7 days ago

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‎ ‎caught ◜ᯅ◝ p . js

박종성 as your roommate that you walk in on ! ⭑ ── wc. 713 ୨ৎ mature drabble ✧ w. smut ( 18+ mdni! ) , masturbation, pet names , unprotected p in v , semi - public setting , dirty talk

you and your university roommate jay had always had an undeniable tension between the two of you. maybe that was why you both refrained from talking too much.. because of the heat in the air.

oftentimes, you’d find him around the dorm shirtless after a shower, water still dripping down his abs, or you’d catch him glancing whenever you bent over to pick something up.

you keep pretending you don’t notice, until one night, you do.

you come home late from the study hall, quietly closing the door behind you as you set your bag on the kitchen counter. you walk over to jay's room, initially thinking you’ll just greet him so he knows you’re home. what you didn’t expect, however, was to walk into something much more.

the door to his room is slightly ajar, and muffled groans drift out. "shit, y/n.." you hear as you inch closer to his room. your hand pushes the door open.

"jay—" you cut off, the first thing you see is him laying on his bed, back slightly arched from the pillows behind him, one hand behind his head while the other is fisting his cock as your name escapes his mouth.

you pause, debating if you should just leave without saying anything or at least apologize. he acknowledges your presence but doesn’t stop. his hand is still sliding up and down his throbbing cock, though the pace slows.

"fuck—i was thinking about you.. couldn’t stop," he mumbles, breath still ragged as he was close to his release before you interrupted. you stay frozen, not moving, just watching how his rough hand glides over his length. and you can’t help but wonder how it would feel inside you..

"eyes up, baby. get over here," he says, letting his hand slip off his cock as it barely falls forward, clearly aching, desperate to cum. you walk over to his bed, not wasting any time as you pull your sweatpants down so they lay discarded on the floor.

you don’t bother taking your panties or crop top off—too impatient and desperate for him. you straddle his lap, sitting just above his cock so your clothed pussy presses it down, earning a groan from him.

he curses under his breath, helping to strip your crop top off before his hands land on your hips, gripping the flesh as he watches you slip your panties to the side and slowly sink down on his cock. you let yourself adjust, the warmth and tightness of your pussy enveloping him, and then you start to lift yourself up, sinking back down repeatedly.

"f-uck.." your voice cracks, his stretch feeling nothing like you’ve ever felt before—painfully good and addicting. your upper body falls flat against his, your arms growing weak as you try to hold yourself up on the bed while his cock drills into you.

your hands rest on his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, pulling your bodies even closer to each other as his hips jerk up to thrust his cock inside you.

"feel that, doll? this pussy was made for me.." he groans, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over, making you cry out into his chest.

"m-mm, jay!" you whine, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around him. your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure, the knot in your stomach tightening with the way he stretches out your gummy walls just right.

"shit, so tight.. can’t believe i waited this long to fuck you," he grunts, savoring the way your cum starts to seep out on his cock, the wet sounds of his hips slapping against yours and your wetness stringing between your thighs.

"so messy for me, yeah? gonna cum, princess.. fuck—" he groans, his cock twitching inside you before he pulls out just in time for his cum to drip all over your ass.

both of you are breathless, trying to come down from your highs. you try to lift yourself off his chest, but he pulls you back down by your back.

"this was a mistake.." you mumble, curling into him as his hand lands in your hair, lightly massaging your scalp before he says, "sure, mistake we’ll make again tomorrow."

and you both knew that was true.

୨ৎ taglist (open!): @murassl @chuhees @heebear @kisuumei @bangchanwifey @h0onviv @kikidoul @highway-143 @kyanmeai @nithxhoon

#⠀𝓮⠀✧⠀𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅’𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾 #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #park jongseong smut #jay smut #jay x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts

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sparklingchim · 26 days ago

Note

do you accept request? If you do, can you write something about the "men can't hold baby on their hips" trend with lwh Jungkook? I saw this trend a lot on the internet and I think it would be cute to see it on lwh Jungkook? For reference just a random video from the trend:

https://www.tiktok.com/@thesabrinatan/video/7382056896070552874

pairing: dilf!jungkook x reader

summary: you teach jungkook how to hold nabi on his hip, and he miserably fails.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“Why are you holding her like that?”

“Huh?” Jungkook utters, peering down at Nabi he’s holding to his side. “What do you mean?”

“Why is she resting on your...oblique?” You learned that word from Jungkook recently. He wouldn’t shut up about it during one of his gym rants. He was just trying to show off, you know... boys, but you actually learned something.

“She’s on my hip,” he says defensively, adjusting her slightly, which somehow makes it worse. She tilts, just a little. “This is how people hold babies.”

You giggle at the light frown tugging at his lips but still disagree. “No, it’s not. You’re supposed to anchor her. You’re just… I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“Okay, show me then.”

You scoop Nabi into your arms, shifting her naturally onto your hip. One hand under, one hand free. Easy. Comfortable. She even gives a little happy noise like she’s judging him with you. Her tiny fingers clutch at your shirt, her cheek smushed against your shoulders.

Jungkook watches for a second, then immediately holds his hands out. “I got it now.”

You give Nabi over, and he tries again. This time really concentrating. He attempts to hip-hold again – elbow out, wrist awkwardly bent, Nabi sort of... perching?

“I’m nailing this.”

“No, you’re fighting for your life.”

He huffs. “Why is this so hard? I literally work out for a living.” Jungkook brushes his free hand over your side, fingers grazing the dip of your waist. “I don’t have this.”

“It’s okay that you have a different bone structure, Koo,” you say. “Nabi doesn’t even mind.” You glance down at Nabi, who’s currently playing with the string on Jungkook’s hoodie. Her big, innocent eyes look up at him like he’s her entire universe – which, to be fair, is true.

You can’t help but smile as she giggles softly, her tiny nose scrunching in amusement. Jungkook looks at her, eyes softening. “You’re the only one who gets me, huh, baby girl?”

You take a step closer, adjusting Nabi for him just slightly, nudging her back into a more natural spot, resting your hand on his to guide the hold.

“You just wanted to touch me.”

“You touched me first,” you shoot back. “You literally caressed my waist mid-complaint.”

“That was anatomy-based,” he says. “Very educational.”

“Mm-hmm.”

#darly asks #anon #fic: long way home #dilf jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff

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myownwholewildworld · 18 days ago

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gif by @\pedrospascaled

“for emergencies only” — an oldman!joel miller drabble

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel has a lil' accident, but you know exactly how to help. or joel cums in his boxers a bit too early and you feed him a blue pill for endurance. a/n: uhm... yeah, hi? i promise you this fic wrote itself, i almost had nothing to do with it. i am so fucking feral over this man, can't flush him out of my system. lord have mercy... 🙇‍♀️ tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp. filthy smut. joel cums in his boxers like the old man he is. mortified!joel but you make him feel good i promise <3 use of viagra. kneading the bulge, kissing the bulge, worshipping the bulge. pussy eating. face/nose riding. squirting. fingering. your slick is his hair gel (scent marking? idk). blowjob. you go cowgirl on him because the poor man can't do extraneous exercise, protect his bones. unprotected piv. creampie. age gap, no age gap, your choice. petnames. no description of reader other than afab. w/c: ~4.2k

Joel let go of a big sigh, knees cracking as he sat down on the couch. Even taking a shower was damn exhausting at his age—he preferred it when you scrubbed his back in the bath, massaged his biceps and forearms, gently squeezed his dick while the movement created rippling waves in the water.

He’d only managed to comb through his dry, silvery curls, to throw a worn shirt and some loose boxers on, before he needed to take a break. He was getting too old to go on long, extenuating patrols. Perhaps Joel should take up Tommy’s offer and solely focus on managing the construction in Jackson. He’d have more time with you that way too.

His mind was drifting away, thinking about all the things he would do to you in his free time, when his most delicious desire materialised in front of him. His precious little thing—you.

“Why are you so lonely over here, handsome?” you teased, lips curling into a sinful smile.

You lost no time, sitting beside him, snuggling up to his side. Joel’s arm draped around your shoulders instinctively, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your collarbone.

“I dunno, someone didn’t want to join me in the shower…” he pouted slightly, a laugh tearing up your throat as you poked his ribs with one finger.

“I told you to wait for me, but you’re a grumpy old man who has no patience,” you reproached jokingly.

His eyes rolled back in exasperation, but you were right. He’d just wanted to hop in the shower as soon as he got home, ready to dust off the fatigue of the day.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, shrugging.

His hand slowly moved away from your collarbone up to your neck. Carefully, his fingers dug around your throat, just enough for you to look up at him and gape for air—the sweet pressure on your trachea making you gasp like a little fish out of the water.

“Give your old man a kiss, will ya?” he husked, bowing down his head.

You reached up to him, mouth agape, almost touching his lips. You froze there, your sight simmering with need, awaiting his permission… and when his eyes flicked with lust, you closed the distance and pressed your lips on his.

The kiss quickly became sloppy, your spit coating the stubble around his mouth. Muted, needy moans bubbled up your windpipe—an irresistible call of nature, silently begging him to give you what you wanted, what you needed.

How could he resist you? Joel simply couldn’t, especially when your hand landed on his knee and the making out session came to an end, the tip of your nose tracing his jawline before you pressed a kiss to his beating jugular and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Your palm squeezed the back of his hairy knee, slowly sliding it up his thigh whilst he manspread on the couch. His brown eyes tracked your every move, his legs’ muscles tensing as you playfully approached his groin. A pull in his soft tummy made him flinch when you reached the dip between his crotch and thigh, his cock hardening at the seductive tease.

A throaty moan rumbled through his chest when you tightly gripped the flesh of his inner thigh, thumb lazily stroking the outline of his shaft over the boxers.

“You’re a bit starved for touch today, aren’tcha?” you nudged him, lips pressed against the shell of his ear.

His cock twitched.

“And whose fault is that?” he snapped back, nerves on edge.

You simply giggled, shaking your head as your hand finally cupped his growing bulge. Gently kneaded him, massaging his aching balls over the fabric. Joel could feel the warmth of your touch seeping through the boxers, compelling him to grow bigger, harder, thicker.

Your palm rubbed against the covered length of him, then dropped to his sacks again—and, irremediably, his hips bucked up, bare heels dug in the wooden floor. He thoroughly enjoyed it when you cupped his balls like that—lovingly, languidly, exquisitely, taking the weight off him so he could find some bliss.

Seeing you so locked in on his pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips… It just added to your appeal, another reason to love you. Because he did—fuck, yes he did, with all his fucking heart.

Suddenly, you squeezed his balls a bit too harsh, holding your grip as if your life depended on him, kissing his jawline. The unexpected squash on his testicles forced a moan out of him—and something else.

A firing pulse took a hold of him, surging down from his spine directly into his balls, and inevitably his cock throbbed with releasing strength. Joel couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to. He first felt the sticky warmth soaking his boxers, and his eyes quickly shot down to his lap.

There was a wet, growing spot on his underwear. He’d fucking cummed in his boxers like an inexperienced teenager—or the old man he was, despite how adamant he was to deny it—and he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

Embarrassed wouldn’t even start to cover it. Joel was fucking mortified.

His mouth ran dry, heartrate throbbing in his eardrums like a shameful cacophony. This had never occurred before—cumming way too early in his loose boxers, the proof right there for you to see, staining the grey fabric. It happened so fast, so intensely, Joel hadn’t had the time to rein in his own orgasm.

His face flushed with abasement; the tips of his ears hot as embers. Unwrapping his arm from around your shoulders, Joel leaned back, his head slacking back and resting on top of the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his free hand tight in a fist, before a trembling sigh escaped his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look at you.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby,” you replied reassuringly, your tone too sweet for the circumstances you both were in. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, forcing his hand out of his face. “This just proves how much you love me, so much you can’t even resist me. It’s hot.”

Joel finally had the courage to look you in the eye, a cocked brow showing his disbelief.

“Hot? You think it’s hot I just came in my boxers with a lil’ tugging?” he repeated out loud, unable to believe what you just had said. “I’m not even hard, sweetheart. It’s… humiliating.”

You nodded to his question, your top teeth sinking in your plump bottom lip. Your eyes locked in on his as your hand travelled down his frame, your thumb stroking the obvious wet spot in his underwear.

“Mhm,” you cooed with a playful grin. “Very hot, not humiliating. And I can fix that. Fix him so we can have a good cuddle.”

“I don’t think I can…” you silenced him with a kiss before you got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen without another word.

A minute later you were back, towering above him with a sinful little smirk, one hand hidden behind your back.

“Open your mouth,” you requested.

“Huh?”

“Just open it for me, please?” you dragged the last word, blinking rather exaggeratedly.

Joel huffed his disagreement, but ended up obeying. His tongue slid out, patiently waiting for whatever you had in mind. With a flourish, you opened your fist to reveal a blue pill. His eyes lighted up in understanding—he thought he had run out of viagra.

“I always keep a secret stock,” you confessed, reading his mind. “For emergencies only.”

Slowly, you set the pill down on his tongue, your thumb caressing the tip of his wet muscle before you retreated to let him close his mouth. Before Joel could swallow, you bowed down to kiss him, your tongue pushing the pill down his throat with a little needy moan.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, the pill secure in his belly now. It was just a matter of time, but meanwhile…

“Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,” he growled, the taste of your sweet cunt haunting him. “You deserve to be eaten out—so thoughtful of your old man. It’s what you enjoy most, right? Having your swollen pussy drooling all over my face, leaking into my mouth…”

His words had an immediate effect on you. Joel knew exactly how to get you off—not that you needed any more encouragement. Your clit was already palpitating, your hole gushing for his attention. The promise of a good pussy eating was everything you’d hoped for after feeding him that viagra pill.

You straightened your back, ready to get started, and Joel slithered off the couch until he was sat on the floor, his achy back leaned against the bottom part of the sofa. He sat back a little, his head resting on the edge of the couch while your pants and underwear dropped to the floor.

“Someone’s eager,” he taunted when you kicked off your clothing to one side.

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you exhaled sharply.

Joel curled one long, thick finger at you to invite you to sit on his face, and that was exactly what you did.

You knelt on the sofa, his head right between your thighs, and you anchored your hands to the back of the furniture. His warm breath fanned your pussy, a shiver running up your spine. His broad, calloused hands ran up the back of your legs, coaxing your ass cheeks apart so your slit would crack open for him.

“My sweet girl… You’re already so wet,” he tutted at you, pecking your perineum, the tip of his aquiline nose tickling your entrance. “You really like your old man, don’tcha?”

You were about to answer when Joel lapped your entire seam in one smooth motion before his mouth latched onto your pulsing clit. You sobbed audibly, head lolled back, fingers curling tightly around the cushion of the backrest. Only managing a hushed “mhm,” Joel suckled on your throbbing nub again, pulling the hood back with his tongue.

A myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids when Joel gently nibbled at your bud, his middle finger sliding in your tight hole to rub that precise spot inside your cunt. He ate you out diligently—sucked, licked, bit, flicked your clit… rinse and repeat. Your pussy fluttered around his finger, your moans louder than they should have been considering the thin walls of the house. Sensing your desperation, Joel’s finger slipped out with a pop, to quickly fill your drooling entrance with his tongue.

It was too much—deliciously so. When you thought you’d had the best head ever, Joel always outdid himself. His wet muscle thrusted in and your pussy reciprocated with stuttering squeezes on his tongue. He didn’t falter, not even for a breather—as if he was trying to pull something out of your cunt.

“Jo-Joel…” you mewled, half whimper, half prayer.

You were so drenched, you could feel a flood forming in your womb—a heap of your arousal waiting to drip into his mouth. A tight coil low in your belly with a strangling force, so intense your shut eyes were tearing up, the drops of your silent cries sliding off your temples. Joel didn’t leave a spot unattended, worshipping your puffy pussy lips, your gushing hole, your thudding clit with his tongue and teeth.

Unable to rein in your own lust anymore, you dropped one hand and fisted his hair, forcing him to stay put, still between your trembling thighs. Your body was asking to take control, to let go of the tethers of decency—not that you had much left anyway.

“Wanna ride my face, hm?” Joel muttered with a shaky laugh.

“Mhmmm,” you moaned, shaking your head yes, your bottom lip twitching.

“Go on, baby, use me,” and then he rolled your bundle of nerves between his teeth.

That was the last straw—his words, your undoing. So you did exactly that. Still anchoring his head to the couch, you rocked your hips on his face, just once. His nose traced the entirety of your slit, catching on your clit, and you whined. A second later you were completely sat on his face, almost smothering him, while you rode not only his face, but specifically his nose.

Looking down, you saw his forehead reappear when your hips moved back. Every time you glided over him, the coil tightened and the flood dropped further down in your uterus. Stilling, you circled your waist on his mouth, and then resumed the riding.

It happened too quickly. Suddenly, the dam in your pussy just gave way, and you squirted all over his face while the most wanton moan tore up your throat, your vocal chords feeling raw from so much screaming. The biggest wave—no, tsunami—of your life washed over you, your thighs quivering like crazy while you locked them shut around his head.

Joel eagerly drank everything you offered him, groaning below you like a thirsty man who had not tasted water in days. For a long minute you couldn’t control the spasms of your cunt, dripping onto his nose, mouth and chin, your slick running down his neck and wetting the neck of his shirt.

Heaving, all your muscles finally relaxed, and you dropped to one side to release Joel from the imprisonment of your thighs. A side glance at Joel told you that he was licking off your juices from anywhere his tongue could reach, and that vision made you whimper again.

“I… Uh…” you mumbled, incapable of finding the words to describe what had just happened. “That was… the best head you’ve ever given me, you handsome old man.”

“You mean the best head you’ve ever had, full stop. Right?” he joked while he planted his hands on the edge of the couch to push himself up and sit besides you, his knees loudly cracking.

You laughed, nodding vehemently as you curled up to his side. His face was still wet from your cum, so you swept off some of it for him, kissing it away. The curls freely hanging over his forehead were damp with your slick too, and just that sight made your clit throb again. Raking your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, you combed it back with the product of your arousal.

“You don’t need hair gel if you’ve got me,” you said with a smile, and Joel tsked before letting go of a hearty chuckle.

“My personal hairdresser,” Joel quipped.

His laugh died in his mouth when your taunting hand flew to his bulge again. This time, he was extremely hard. Balls loaded and heavy, cock drumming.

“How’s my toy doing? Ready?” It was a rhetoric question, you could feel how ready he was.

“All… yours,” his words hitched, eyes darkening with a burning desire.

Without wasting another second, you knelt before him on the floor, his thighs spread open to house your frame. You couldn’t resist to lean forward and kiss the wet spot on his underwear, stealing a quick taste. Licking off the stain, you gazed up at him.

Joel was watching your every move with predatory attention, his tight fists resting to either side of him. Trying to convey calmness, but you could feel the eagerness simmering under the surface.

You buried your face in his bulge again, rubbing him over the fabric with your mouth, lips and cheeks. Kneaded him with worshipping heed, pulling the textile between your teeth, drunk with the crispy, sticky sound the wet boxers made when they unglued from his damp cock. Feeling his heartbeat, you inhaled keenly—his scent swarming your senses.

You could spend hours like this, with your face tucked away in his groin, feeling the length of him hardening against your cheek. But you were anxious to shove him down your throat.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his old man’s loose boxers, and Joel lifted his hips off the pillows just enough for you to pull them down his legs, tangled around his ankles. His dick sprung free, swaying in front of you like a tasty lollypop. Cockhead flushed and painfully red, the vein on his underside visibly pulsing, his heavy, full balls tightened up into the base of his dick. And then the cum he’d been so embarrassed about, topping his mushroom head and sliding off his shaft.

It really was a beautiful sight. You pushed his girthy length against his soft tummy and lapped at his balls first, to then find your way up his shaft until your lips sealed shut around his angry cockhead, cleaning off all his nutty spent.

Joel groaned above you, shifting his position ever so slightly, and was gentle enough to caress your cheek with his thumb before he gave you a soft smack.

“Careful not to choke, sweetheart. Take it easy,” he growled, words dying off when you pushed him down your mouth, the hoarse curls at the base tingling your nose. “Easy does it.”

With your mouth full, you gave free rein to your instincts. Took him out completely, a bridge of saliva linking your lips to the tip of his cock, and then shoved him down your throat again. You gagged and whimpered at the same time, precum and spit overflowing from the corners of your mouth. How the end of him hit your uvula, breaching past it… it was the most elated you had ever felt.

Your pace quickly picked up, and soon enough you were bobbing your head on his lap to the point that tomorrow you’d have a stiff neck. But it would be completely worth it. Sucking him off, your tongue swirled around his leaky cockhead to then nip at it. Closing your mouth, you slid his tip over your clenched teeth and lips, making a mess of your face.

“Eaaaasy… Fuck, stop,” Joel tugged at your hair.

You had been so lost in the moment, you looked up at him bewildered. You didn’t want to stop, you could never have enough of him. But realisation quickly hit. His balls were twitching against your chin, a sign that Joel was about to lose it.

“I could have my dick in your mouth all day and night, sweetheart, but I need your pussy now,” he husked, half plea, half threat.

Joel relaxed against the couch when you got up to your feet and straddled him, your knees sunk in the pillows to either side of his legs. Reaching behind you, you grabbed at his throbbing cock, gliding it over your entire slit until it hitched in your entrance.

Biting your lip down to stop a slutty moan from coming out, you locked eyes with him. Watching his façade tumble down every time you descended on his lap was one of the most beautiful sights. So slowly you impaled yourself, taking in how Joel’s face loosened up, his hands firm on your hips—how the crows’ feet kissing the corners of his chocolate eyes would smooth out, how his cheeks would flush, how his nose would do a cute little scrunch, or how his lips would part, letting out a heavy sigh.

Joel tried to fuck up into you when you lifted your hips and you tutted at him, pinning him down so he wouldn’t move.

“Nuh-uh. I’m doing all the work tonight, baby. You just lean back and relax, let me fuck you,” you warned him, an edge to your tone advising him to refrain from complaining.

He’d been on patrol out all day—you knew how tired he was, how his old man’s bones would crack with the gentlest of moves.

“But—”

“No, no buts. If you stay still and behave, I’ll let you come inside. Be good for me, please,” you cooed, your mouth moving against his with every suggestive word.

Joel finally grunted in agreement, and the smile on your face couldn’t be wider—even your cheeks hurt. Despite how badly you wanted to say “good boy,” you didn’t press your luck. Joel was quite dominant, but you enjoyed these subtle shifts in your relationship when he was very tired. So tired you could boss him around with no reprimands.

Once he had settled down, you began riding him, his reassuring hands kneading your hips for encouragement. At first it was slow-paced, his cock lazily swallowed by your labia only half-way through. With every pump, you let him slide a little bit deeper, sweet desperation building up behind his adoring eyes.

And after a few minutes, you were bouncing up and down on his throbbing shaft with heavy, quick dives. You laced your hands behind his neck for support, your forehead resting on his, your sweats mixing. Every time he exhaled, you inhaled his needy groans, high with the passion burning between you two.

His cock filled you up to the brim, especially when he was fully seated in your crying cunt. His tip would kiss your cervix, sending firing signals up your spine, numbing your mind. He was so girthy, your inner walls parted like the Red Sea to greet him, to house him. Every time he pulsed inside, your pussy squeezed him hard—as if they were talking to each other. Joel was the perfect fit to you, in every fucking sense.

His cockhead dragged along your anterior wall, putting pressure on the exact spot that always had you gushing. You were so close to nirvana, you could almost touch the sky with your fingertips. Understanding how close you were—probably because your pussy was uncontrollably fluttering around him—Joel took it upon himself to tip you over the cliff of your pleasure. One of his hands flew to your clit, pressing tight circles on your nub as you, quite literally, jumped on him like a demon possessed—and your whole brain short-circuited right there and then.

“Come for you old man, sweetheart. Squirt all over my cock, drench my lap. Wanna feel her sing around me, milk me fucking dry until my balls are completely empty,” Joel husked against your lips, his thumb quicker on your clit now, pushing back the hood to expose your bundle of nerves to his incessant touch even more. “Can you do that for me, hm?”

You did exactly that the moment Joel stopped petting your clit and, instead, he gently tapped at it with four fingers, the squelching sound driving you crazy. The clapping of skin on skin driving you wild. You finally came, screaming at the top of your lungs, while your hips stuttered above him. Incapable of maintaining any pace now, you sat on his lap—his thudding cock buried down to the hilt in your quivering pussy, the best orgasm of your life hitting you at once.

Your entire body was quaking, your pussy flitting arrhythmically as the last squirts left your insides. Joel was throbbing inside you, grown to a point you thought he might explode. And with the last bit of energy, you clamped down on him as strongly as you could, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” Joel moaned loudly, head tilting back against the couch.

He pulsed one last time, and then finally filled you up. His cum flooded your pussy with long, thick ropes—so much that it was soon gushing out, mixed with your own arousal. It was warm and comforting, knowing that his seed was safe in your cunt. You squeezed once more to completely drain his balls, and he gifted you with some more drops.

You hummed in approval, so satisfied you almost felt sleepy. Joel smacked your right buttock and then hugged you around the waist, feeling your weight on him like a blanket. Neither of you moved, his cock still snug inside your pussy, your breathings loud and heavy.

“We still have a couple of hours before they serve dinner in the community hall. Can’t go anywhere in this… state,” Joel snickered, kissing your cheek.

“Gonna have to take care of this for you, ain’t I?” you whispered, batting your eyelashes at him before you grinded your hips on his lap. Your clit twitched in response, overstimulated. “I need a minute though, I feel like my whole nervous system is on fire right now.”

“Take as long as you need, sweetheart. I could be here all day right until the last minute,” he muttered, his hands gliding over the sweaty skin on your back.

“You’ll need to at least take a shower before we leave. I made a mess of your hair,” you laughed, nudging the vein on his neck with the tip of your nose.

“No, I like this hair gel better. I ain’t washing my hair.”

Your eyes shot up to him. The mere idea of him leaving the house with your slick dampening his hair, him being in public bathed in your pussy scent… while talking to others, fully claiming him as yours… Right then, you brain chemistry was changed forever.

Your clit throbbed, and you purposefully clutched around his still hard shaft.

“I’m ready again.”

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yanderedrabbles · 3 months ago

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Yandere YouTuber

Short drabble request for @labodabi

I see him as a commentary YouTuber. Always on podcasts talking about the latest fashion or TV sensation. A good looking guy, always perfectly groomed and styled. Falls into that soft boy category - fluffy hair, lots of sweaters, a rescue cat that's always in the video out-takes. Approachable, comforting.

You interact for the first time when you make a video response to one of his controversial takes. You're no established youtuber, your channel doesn't even have any videos before you post about him. You don't add any fancy graphics or music. Just you and your slightly busted ring light, ranting at him for totally misrepresenting your interest.

But people are totally into it. You're passionate. You're funny. You're a breath of fresh air compared to the over produced, over budgeted videos that crowd the homepage.

He invites you on his podcast. Secretly, he expects you to back down. Be camera shy. You're just a no name with a phone camera and he's a guy who gets a million views within a day of uploading. It's got to be intimidating, right?

Nope. You're just the same in person as you were in your video. Not scared to challenge his opinions, not afraid of the lights and team of editors. When the video finally goes out, people eat it up.

User17899: OMG THE CHEMISTRY

sakura blossom: theyre so cute together im putting money on a hard launch in a week or two

YouTube Daddy 69420: he's so into them. just look at his eyes

And with such a great response, it's only natural that you get invited on again. That you start featuring in his full length videos. That he starts tagging you in every Instagram post.

You have no intention of being an influencer. But damn if the money isn't good. If the PR packages aren't sweet.

You move to the same city as him. Let him teach you the ins and outs of the biz. And he eats it up. Takes every opportunity to be your 'internet big brother.'

Yeah, right. Some sick big brother he is, going home and jerking it to pictures of you together. Shooting all over his screen just so it lands on your face. A real great guy.

It's only when you start build your own following that the toxicity really comes out. He wants you reliant on him, on his fame. Having your own channel blow up is just annoying. It gives you too much leverage - you don't need him for views anymore, you can walk away whenever you want. He can't stand it.

That's when he starts being sneaky about things. Starts hitting your videos with copyright infringement and DMCA takedowns the second you go live. Starts contesting your monetisation. Starts using bots to mass report your posts. All anonymously of course. Or through a shell company. Hey, he's been in this biz too long to make a rookie mistake.

And when you're at your wits end, when rent is due and you're broke from trying to get your videos back up, that's when he steps in. Says you guys can collab and he'll give you more than half of the sponsorship money.

Smiles all sweet and charming when he leans in and says, "There's lots of ways to pay me back, so don't worry about it."

You naive thing. He was never going to ask for money in return. No, what he wants is much harder to come by and all the sweeter for it. You think just 'cause he seems like a good guy that he's nice all the way through? That wearing nail polish and doing mud masks on cam makes him any less of a man? Any less hungry? No way baby.

And when it's time to pay up and he's pushing you to your knees, fingers practically ripping his belt buckle loose, you think he's going to stop just because you ask him to? When he has you exactly where he wants you? No matter how polite he is on the surface, he's still just a man.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #Yandere youtuber #Yandere oc x reader #x y/n #yandere male #male yandere #yanderecore

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theorist-fox · 4 months ago

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Simon tries something new

Little drabble to get me out of the block.

Word count: 630

18+

CW: smut, simon spits in your mouth :)

Simon's homecoming sex is always slow.

Too much adrenaline to digest, too many memories to bury so they can never be dug out again.

It's kisses on your neck until your skin melts under his tongue. Lean fingers working you open until his palm is soaked and your breathing uneven.

Soft legs around his waist, your arms holding his head to your face, kissing the aches of his mind away.

It's rare for him to change from his usual unhurried pace, to break through that comforting tempo he's so used to—like the rhythm of a tune that calls him back home. Like a siren, coaxing his soul away from the bloodshed and back into his body—and his body back to you.

A big hand leaves its gentle grip on your waist, curling firmly at the base of your jaw to hold your head steady against the plush pillow.

He collects a glob of spit in his mouth. It falls into a string, slowly, until it sits at the slit of your lips.

It startles you, at first—brows fluttering to your forehead. But even in the haze of sex you manage to recollect yourself just in time.

A shaky exhale from your nose, and then you lick your lips deliberately, slow as anything, gauging a reaction from his eyes.

He watches how your throat bobs when you swallow it down.

He watches when you open your mouth again, pink tongue hanging out. Inviting, warm.

He cums right afterwards with a muted curse.

Doesn't care if he's sensitive as can be when he fucks you through his orgasm, then through yours, until your legs are trembling so fiercely that he thinks he's shattered you like the finest porcelain.

A stolen kiss, sloppy and wet. One where his lips taste yours fully, where your teeth clack as they're in the way.

Simon doesn't pull out. Waits a tick instead, hiding in the curve of your shoulder, long enough for his blood to return to where he needs it, still inside of you—so tight in the afterglow of your orgasm that he thinks he might cum again if he's not careful.

He fucks you a second time, ensuring your lips never part from his.

When he rolls onto his back, taking you with him, he lets you take the lead. Impaled right on his lap, hips dancing like waves on the shore, mouth parted to breathe softly and slow.

It's your turn now, he guesses, because suddenly lithe fingers are wrapped around his chin. Your thumb tugs at his lower lip as your hips slow to a more controlled pace.

"Open," you whisper.

Simon can only oblige. One look into your eyes is all it takes, his mouth already open before you even ask.

Your spit lands slowly on the flat of his tongue. He tastes it like you're dripping honey in his mouth, like that's his favorite thing to savor after weeks away from everything good.

His hand comes to cradle the back of your head only to pull you down, where he kisses you until his head spins because he doesn't care to breathe—doesn't think it matters.

"Like it when you tell me wha' to do," he says to your lips. "S' a nice change of pace."

You can hear the smile in his voice.

So, you smile too.

"Yeah?" You reply, panting softly against his mouth. "Then be a good one and fuck me like you haven't seen me in weeks, eh?"

Not the hardest order he's ever had to follow, he reckons, since it's the truth.

He breathes a chuckle, but otherwise agrees, stealing yet another kiss from you. Arms fully wrapped around your waist, feet planted on the bed, Simon fucks you like he hasn't seen you in weeks.

"Yes ma'am."

#I love him your honor #I missed you simon riley come back to me #the kids miss you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #fanfic #smut #cod smut #x reader #cod fluff #give the man some fluff #foxy

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intromortal · 1 month ago

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⟢ like it when i call you daddy? ⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon

oops! your boyfriend finds out you have a raging daddy kink. but he's more than happy to indulge you

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ daddy kink duh ⋆ shy reader ⋆ menace jungwon ⋆ fingering ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight edging ⋆ praise ⋆ brief cockwarming

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 3.5k words

✷ NIA — barely proofread pls it's 2 am bear with me. i was supposed to finish this yesterday but then someone tried to break into my apartment. hope your weekend was better than mine!

Uh oh. You know that look.

The look Jungwon gives you only when you're in real deep shit, the one that tells you he's not letting you off the hook or negotiating with you no matter what.

It's almost mean in the way only bright and soft eyes can be, like they're not meant to shape into anything that isn't cutesy. It's like he's scrutinizing your eyes as if they were little windows to your soul, no curtains blocking the light shining in. It's a look you've come to assume means 'danger ahead! Tread carefully.'

Mostly because if there's anything Jungwon hates, it has to be you hiding stuff from him. Whether it's silly things like the paper cut you got at work the day before, or how your tires need to be changed—you can handle that yourself just alright, but Jungwon wants to do it all for you—or the bigger, scarier stuff like doubt poking your chest when you spiral thinking about your future, unsure of what your place in the world is supposed to be, or if you have one at all. He hates it all. He wants you to rely on him, open up both your mind and heart to let him in. It's not a matter of needing him, Jungwon knows you're more than capable of doing it all yourself, you've done just that your entire life.

But that's all the more reason to rely on him if you ask him.

He wants to be your rock, your superhero in spandex like the ones you always make fun of when it's a Friday night and older Marvel movies are all that's playing on TV—he thinks being made fun of is okay as long as you're the one laughing. He wants to be your safe haven. A place where you walk in and feel the heaviness dissolve off your shoulders. He wants to be your home.

You shouldn't have to worry about anything because you've worried yourself sick over other people all your life, he needs to be your break.

Jungwon is your judgment free zone, he knows all your deepest secrets, no matter how embarrassing. He checks for spots you can't quite reach when you think something is off with your body—and he tells you that no, it's not a terminal illness, you'll be fine—no matter how disgusting. He has seen you dazed, hair messy and eyeliner somehow down to your cheeks after a night out. Even washed your face for you when you couldn't and patiently did your skincare because he knew you would complain about your skin feeling dry in the morning otherwise. He has made love to you in every way, in every position, no matter how unflattering. And he still loves you, still thinks you're the most gorgeous being walking on the sun dried tufts of grass that make up Earth. Though if you ask him, the sun is all the way down here and not up in the sky anymore, the one there is just a less impressive copy.

So when you keep things from him, it stings extra.

You lay underneath him, eyes as big as a fawn, staring right up into his scrutinizing gaze. And he's giving you that look, so you might as well start praying up to anyone who will listen.

"Oh? You like that?" Jungwon's hand slides under your shirt, slowly caressing the skin it was just tickling mercilessly moments ago. "Now, that's new. How come you didn't let me in your little secret until now, mhh?"

You don't really have a top 5 worst ways in which your boyfriend could find out you have an embarrassing, raging daddy kink, but if you had one, you imagine 'whimpering after he jokingly says 'be still and good for daddy' while play fighting' would be up there at the top.

"I… uhm. I don't….?" It sounds more like a question than anything else, and the wicked grin overtaking Jungwon's face only makes you want to shrink back into the mattress further.

He looks to the side, shaking his head slightly as his tongue pokes out between his teeth. The corners of his mouth are upturned, but it's not warm or playful like his smile usually is—it doesn't make the sides of his eyes crinkle like you love.

If keeping things from him is a no-go, outright lying might be ten times worse.

So, you bargain. "It's just… you know. Took me by surprise. You don't seem the type of—"

Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal of surprise as he grabs your thigh and drags you down the bed, crawling over you possessively. He reaches for your arm, bringing it to his lips so he can trail his way down with soft kisses, so unlike the energy emanating from him. He kisses your palm sweetly, it makes your head spin like you've been thrown off your balance. "I'm not the type to?"

He's encouraging you to finish your thought, but you have half the idea that by doing that, you'll only dig your grave further, so you choose silence.

"That's what I thought." Jungwon bends down, gaze still boring into your eyes and mouth hovering so close to yours you can feel the words before you can hear them. "I'm the type to do everything for you. I thought you knew by now."

Of course, you do. He makes it pretty clear every waking hour of the day. But the little title that has heat rushing right to your cheeks just thinking about it, is something you never found the courage to be open about, even to Jungwon. As silly as it sounds, the thought of giving someone else so much power, complete control over you feels impossible, even when it's what your deepest and most hidden self craves most.

"I know. It just felt silly and—oh."

"Keep talking. Don't let me stop you." Jungwon noses the skin of your neck, taking in your scent like he might forget it if he doesn't, like it's the last chance he has to do so. Jungwon's love is often like this, given to you in subtle but passionate gestures, ones he bestows onto you as if he might bleed out if he doesn't.

Your insides stir, heavy and hot in your lower stomach and the air almost feels too thick to breathe in, but you push through. Even when Jungwon's hand slides lower and lower until it reaches your shorts—if you can even call them that. "I thought, what if you don't like it. What if it makes me seem weird."

"I like what you like." You visibly shiver when he speaks into your ear, the warmth of his breath ticklish. He gently nibs the shell of your ear.

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, pretty girl. What you want, I give you. What you dream of, I give you." He looks down at you, his elbow bent to support his head. "Your deepest fantasies, I fulfill. Is that clear?"

You nod, looking at him with such sincerity and vulnerability in your eyes he almost coos at the sight.

"Good girl." Jungwon kisses your temple, and you don't know if it's the action itself or the praise, or maybe a little bit of both, but your muscles are more relaxed and your chest feels all fuzzy. The hand playing with the waistband of your shorts finally slides to cup your heat through your panties, his dainty but long fingers molding perfectly to your mound. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, gently smiling into the little nibbles he teases your skin with. They're hardly painful, his teeth not leaving marks behind. Not that they need to, your form quivering underneath his body is already enough. "Let daddy take care of his baby, yeah?"

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by the effects his words have on you. It only spurs Jungwon further though, because soon his hand is pulling your completely soaked panties to the side, slowly teasing your folds with his digits. "You're all shy, but she's so happy to see me." He smiles against your cheek, then dips down to litter your neck in open mouthed kisses, happily sighing when you adjust yourself to give him easier access.

"You're so lame," you say from behind your hand still covering your face.

"Oh baby, don't be jealous. You're both my princesses." Jungwon finally dips his fingers lower, teasing your dripping hole slowly with just the tips. He collects the wetness seeping out of you and spreads it all over your pussy, not even trying to dull the obscene sounds his action make. "You're so fucking wet, it's like she's talking back to me," he slurs his words, quiet as to not interrupt the ones coming from below. "And you wanted to deprive me of this?"

He keeps playing with you, relishing in the little sounds both you and your pussy make. His fingers move slowly, deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Jungwon, please," you whine, but the way his lips shape into a grin you can quite literally feel against your neck tells you he wants something from you first. And you have an idea of what it is.

"Wrong name, try again."

Of course.

You're not ready to give in yet though, so you decide to push his buttons for a little longer. "Please?"

The last thing you hear before Jungwon yanks his hand out of your shorts, much to your despair, is a venomous tch that has you seriously reconsider your previous actions. You know him well, so you know if you want to come you're gonna have to abide by his rules. Still, that doesn't stop embarrassment from growing in your stomach more, and more.

His movements are a lot less careful, making quick work of his fitted shirt and sweats, his boxers coming right off with them. Maybe it's the sight of his leaking cock, standing tall and angry against his lower abdomen, or maybe it's just wishful thinking, but despite your mind knowing better, your heart hopes for a few seconds that maybe, just maybe, you have irritated him past the point of punishment.

Jungwon grabs your shorts and panties, sliding them off your legs with a single movement and discards them somewhere on the hardwood floor of your room. It's fast and unceremonious, but the second his warm hand touches your thigh again you understand you got it all wrong. "That's okay. If you're too shy to call me daddy, I'll just have to fuck the shyness out of you."

You mewl when his hands slide up to the back of your knees, pushing them against your chest. The position is a little awkward, but you believe that's exactly what Jungwon is going for. "Here, hold your own legs up like this. Yeah, exactly like that. See? You can be good when you wanna be."

The stretch in your thighs burns, but it's close to nothing when the realization that Jungwon is making you hold onto your legs so you can't hide your face anymore sets in. Sneaky.

Jungwon, on the other hand, admires you with no reservation. Your cunt is completely exposed, like you've handed it to him on a silver platter, and now you have nowhere to hide. He has half a mind to sink down on his knees in front of the bed and eat you out until you're raw and cannot physically come anymore, but he said he would fuck you and he keeps his promises. Besides, he wants to see your face when you finally give in and call him daddy for the first time.

His knees dip into the mattress, the bed creaking with the weight put on it, but your own heartbeat thumps so loud in your ears you miss it. Jungwon takes his sweet time in reaching you, nothing like the urgency in his movements when he undressed you both. He knows you're waiting with bated breath for his next step, it's just another way to punish you for your disobedience. His hands roam your naked body, and he pushes your legs into your chest further, displeased with your loosening grip on them. He gives you a wordless, pointed look, and your hands immediately hold onto the back of your thighs harder.

"Pretty," Jungwon compliments your cunt, glistening and dripping right onto the bed sheets. His gaze is carefully scrutinizing every single part of you, but you know better than to try to shy away. "So, so beautiful. I don't know why you wanna hide from daddy."

"I'm not hiding," you whine in protest. Because, really, you're trying your best not to.

He grabs his length, leaking precum at the thick tip. You want to get a better look at it, so you try to take a peek, your back falling on the mattress again after a mere moment of struggle. That earns an airy, honest giggle from Jungwon, and it has your insides fluttering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of you, whatever he does makes you all tingly, whether it's because of fondness or lust. And by the quick look you got at his cock he's not much better off, you can't recall a time you have seen him this red and wet, ready to be inside you from just a little kissing and touching. Which is saying a lot, because Jungwon gets flushed quite easily.

The thought makes you feel a little less embarrassed.

Jungwon taps his cock on your clit a few times, each one sending a jolt of pleasure right through your spine. That tiny amount of stimulation is all he gives to your poor neglected bundle of nerves, and he moves his thick tip downwards, rubbing it repeatedly between your folds. All you can do is throw your head back, teeth poking your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

He sighs in delight as your juices coat him, mixing with his precum. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth twisted in a way that makes a dimple pop up on his cheek as he keeps rubbing his cock on your cunt, loving the sight of your nails digging into your thighs to leave tiny half moon indentations. Look at you doing the marking yourself.

"I already take care of you, make sure you're well rested, handle whatever I can to take the load off your shoulders," Jungwon says, never stopping his movements against your heat. "I fuck you so good all the time, take my time with your pretty pussy when I have the chance. Take such good care of you both." He falters for one second, when he accidentally lowers his tip just a smidge too much and ends up rubbing it over your clenching hole. He keeps his cock there, pushing in so slightly you almost miss it, just to take it out and repeat the motions. "I wanna be a part of all your fantasies, would do anything to make you come as hard as I can." He sinks into your heat more this time, just enough to let the stretch of his tip pushing in register for you. "So why won't you be a good girl for daddy and address me by my title? I know you want to."

Jungwon's hips slowly push his cock into you, his mouth open in a silent moan as inch by inch you welcome him into your snug cunt. He's been obsessed with the feeling of that first thrust inside you ever since the first time he slid into you, it's the one thing he always takes his time with, even when he's mad or frustrated and ready to pound into you until you can barely feel your legs anymore.

That's usually what the dangerous look he gave you earlier entails, but this time it's different. His pace doesn't suddenly increase once he fills you to the hilt, reaching so deep inside you, any more would feel like too much. He keeps it slow, but steady, enjoying the way you clench against him, enjoying the view you're giving him with your body bent to accommodate him. He fucks you deep, the position you're in allowing him to reach so deep inside you stars dance across your vision. His pelvis rubs against your clit so deliciously a tiny bit of spit dribbles down your chin from the corner of your mouth. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge, and it's mouthwatering.

It's so good, you can feel yourself building up to the peak you want to reach so badly in no time, forgetting why you're in the position you are in the first place.

"Jungwon—" you whine, and he stops his thrusts almost immediately, his deliciously thick length pulling all the way back, his tip the only thing left in you. The loss is unbearable, and you wiggle your hips as if to coax more of his cock back into you again, all to no avail.

"No, no, no baby, who am I?"

You feel like crying, and a single tear does slip out of your eye, gravity making it fall somewhere on the bed. Jungwon doesn't care though, not when you refuse to give him what he wants to hear.

He moves his hips teasingly, as if to bait you to give in, he fucks you gently with just the tip, over and over again, careful to not give you too much. "C'mon baby, I know you can do it."

You clench around his tip, silently begging for more. More that will never come if you don't give in, and you know it. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you want to give in so badly.

So you do. "Please, daddy."

Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but Jungwon hears you loud and clear, and it's enough for him.

His hips plunge against yours, and you gasp when you feel his thick cum fill you up so unexpectedly. He barely moves, coaxing spur after spur of seed as he empties himself inside of you. Your walls flutter against his sensitive cock, and your hips twitch when he suddenly moves his thumb over your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles on it while he keeps fucking his own cum inside you.

"Good girl, milking me dry like this, yeah baby, keep doing that." His voice is rough and thick, sending pleasure right to your belly. You feel so full, so warm, as his movements never falter, even when his cock is raw from overstimulation.

"Daddy, 'am close."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. Coming again, need you to come too." Even more cum fills you up at the name, and when Jungwon buries himself all the way in, thumb still circling your clit, and presses down with his other hand right on the bulge on your tummy, searing white blindness hits you for a moment as you come undone around him. His moans sound beautiful as you rhythmically clench around his thickness in your ecstasy, his thumb still working you through your orgasm.

It keeps going for longer than it ever has, your toes bent as if it's the only thing keeping you grounded while waves of pleasure keep crashing through you.

Jungwon slows down, but never pulls out of you completely, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. You're not holding onto your legs anymore, and his body gives in on top of you with one last teasing thrust, crushing you a little with his weight.

"Hey," you protest, still in the process of catching your breath.

"Mhh." He nuzzles his forehead against yours, uncaring for the sweat sticking you together. "That was good."

You giggle, a light feeling washing over you, spreading from your chest to your limbs in soothing waves. "Yeah, I think you liked me calling you daddy a little too much."

You feel lightheaded, in a good way. And in Jungwon's arms, you know you're as safe as you could ever be. It fills your heart with longing, even if he's right there with you.

Jungwon wraps his arms around you, spinning you both around on the messy bed sheets, quickly switching up your positions so you're on top of him, your head resting right on his chest.

His heartbeat, slowly going back to being steady, gently lulls you to sleep, even when the sun outside shines in through your window and casts the shadows of the windowsill plants over the tangled mess your and Jungwon's legs make up. He kisses your forehead once, then again, slowly aligning his softening cock to slide back into you. "Maybe. You should've done that sooner."

#✷ mortal works #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon drabble #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen hard hours

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madamechrissy · 6 months ago

Text

✞ Forgive me For I have Sinned ✞

✞ Pairings: Priest Gojo x Fem Reader

✞ Word count - 5.7k

✞ Content/Warnings- You keep having dreams about Father Gojo, and he decides to try to save your slutty soul <3 NSFW, sacrilegious, confessional fucking, rosaries as bondage, lots of filling you w/love and light, oral (both receiving) fingering, explicit church sex, reader is a lil bimbo and innocent fr, Gojo has a HELL of a God complex (canon tbh) overall kinky asf

A/N- Booking the tix to hell-who's coming with!? I based off this drabble of mine: Priest! Gojo (you can read it first if you want!) Reader and Gojo are in their mid 20s. Enjoy!

It was hot outside, a scorching summer day, the type that made you want to jump in an icy cool lake naked, but in the sanctuary of this pristine church which is kept rather cool, you still have a drip of sweat beading down your collarbone. You’re wearing a pretty red summer dress, your little hat right next to you in the pew, as you watch him with avid attention.

Father Satoru Gojo.

The entire church is in love with him, enamored by him, there are admiring whispers even amongst the most vigilant catholics, the ones who would judge you for coming not in your Sunday best. They hid it well enough, acting as if they only cared so much because his sermons were so powerful, because he was so young and profound already.

But you know better, and they know better deep down, that Father Gojo was just gorgeous, a face chiseled to perfection, tall and broad shouldered, swoon worthy by all accounts. His husky voice and insane presence that shines brilliantly like a million diamonds certainly helps, but his face itself is so pretty it’s angelic.

When he looks at you with those brilliant blue eyes, swirling like a moody storm, all glittery behind those snowy white lashes? Well you feel…

You’re going to hell.

Last night you’d had this insane dream of him, where he has asked you to serve him on your knees, just as he would offer that eucharist and wine to you, but instead it’s his cum you’re swallowing. And you’re a good, God fearing girl, so, you certainly should not do or think of such things! And worst of all, with your priest, Father Gojo. He has vows too, yet you’d committed much sin already.

Just last night you’d awakened throbbing, having dreamt of pleasuring him, on your knees before him, and you’d been soaking wet and dripping down your shorts, even the sheet had a wet spot. You’d rubbed your swollen little clit in circles, gasping and arching your back, feeling fevered as you committed such sins, as picturing Father Gojo had you climaxing all over your own fingers.

You’d been so ashamed this morning! You’d splashed cold water on your face, staring at yourself in your mirror, shivering as the cool water dripped down your skin, knowing you should stay home, find some new church. You are full of impure thoughts and sin, and it’s all because of him, how could you confide in him that you feel this way, think this way?

What would he do if he knew? Cast you out or…

Stop it.

But as you’re crossing your legs, shifting your hips, you see Satoru Gojo’s full, pouty lips part, his eyes directly on you. You pause then, eyes wide, you must be imagining it, your sin surely is carrying over too far… but you test it, crossing your legs once more, and sure enough, his eyes follow your legs up, between your thighs, surely seeing your panties.

That gives you a fucking thrill you can’t describe, as does him licking his thumb, going to another page as he continues his sermon, women all over are fanning themselves, enamored by him. But perhaps none so much as you, picturing what’s under that cassock, under those white robes he wears, what that long, lithe body would feel like against yours.

You imagine your dream vividly later when he’s giving you the eucharist, placing the biscuit on your tongue as you hold your mouth open on your knees, then you see it, the hunger mirrored in his eyes. You tremble when he brushes a thumb over your lower lip, and your eyes drift to his lap, where you clearly see he’s hard. You gulp it down, looking up at him and taking the wine now.

Father Gojo looks down at you, white hair falling over a brow, finding your beautiful eyes are affecting him as much as your stance on your knees, his thumb finds your chin now, imagining shoving his cock between perfect lips. Surely, you are here to tempt him, to ruin him, you are sin itself, haunting his dreams, making him hard in the middle of church, right in his own service.

You look at it then, his cock under the cassock that’s becoming too tight, before licking your lip, eyes back up to his hungrily. You look like such a good girl, but your eyes tell another story, a story of wanting to get fucked hard, to be filled by him, wanting to have his cum all over your pretty face. He imagines that as the wine drips down your lips now.

Fuck he’s going to hell if he stays around you, surely even he has rules to uphold even if he certainly is God’s chosen. But… perhaps since he is God's chosen, it’s his duty to help a little sinful girl like you. And as you rise, holding his hand, and your breasts brush against his chest, you’re far too close, he vividly pictures yanking them out of that dress, tempting him to no end.

Of course you ask for confessional, and he’s dying at the thought of being so close to you, when all he thinks of is how good you look, how good you smell, and he is left to wonder, do you taste that good? Your pretty neck, your delicate collarbone, your pussy? Surely he should not think such things, but as he looks at you through the lattice of the confessional separating you both, he cannot stop his mind.

“Father Gojo… I fear my confession is most wicked.” Comes your breathy little voice, only serving to make Father Gojo’s thick length harden, picturing what your little moans must sound like when properly fucked.

“Go on, my pr- my child, you may tell me anything.” He says, coughing a bit, because he’d rather call you a pretty little slut, and he has no clue why the devil likes to try him so hard. It’s all your fault, truly. Pretty little thing.

“Okay… but…” You take a breath. “I have dreams of someone fucking me, someone I should not.” You say nervously, and watch him shift in his seat, you can smell his cologne so much in here, making you thirst more for him.

“It’s natural to have thoughts, my child.”

“No, Father Gojo… I’m playing with myself, thinking of him. Of… sucking him, or of him laying on top of me.” You hear Father Gojo making a choking sound, and you panic. “I’m so sorry! I…”

“Ahem, no, no… continue.” Father Gojo’s cock is straining, he can already feel precum sticking to his tip, picuring you touching your pussy, he bets it’s so pretty, bet it tastes so-

Sinful girl, aren’t you?

Surely that’s all this is, not… him wanting to sin! Father Satoru Gojo certainly is perfect, he’s God’s perfect creature, so if he wants this, it must be on you. Sin in a perfect little body with a perfect little face, and a voice that drives him to utter distraction. Surely, Father Gojo must try to save you.

“Father, I cannot stop thinking of him, he’s in all my dreams. What should my penance be, how many hail marys?”

Father Gojo has to stroke himself to adjust his huge, throbbing cock now, as he watches you through the lattice, biting your full lower lip, your head falling back, hair cascading. Hair he wants to pull as he fucks you from behind, making you arch your back to take more of his cock.

“I have to ask how you’re doing it… so that I can tell you your penance, so that I may try to save you.” He says, husky now, and you whimper softly, shifting on the bench, your pussy throbbing around nothing, picturing his cock filling you.

“How I do it, Father Gojo?”

“Yes, it’s… important to confess.”

“Well, I take my fingers, and I find my pussy with them, I roll them around my clit over and over, I get so wet that they slip- Father are you okay?” Satoru can’t stand it, he’s stroking his bare cock under his robes, resting his head against the wall, struggling not to cry out as he’s pumping.

“Ahem… indeed I am. So you finger your little pussy then?” At his words you’re a blushing mess, breaths coming more rapidly, your hands gripping the bench, dying for friction as you’re soaking your panties.

“Y-yes.”

“Do you slip your fingers in?”

“I… no! Um… no.”

“And you cum?”

“I… yes. I do cum. Imagining him.” You’re watching those robes rise and fall, then you know it, Father Gojo is stroking his cock right next to you.

“I see… I think I can help alleviate some of this, perhaps give you some guidance so that you do not afflict yourself so.” You want to touch yourself now, when you hear those breathy pants, your fingers clinging to the lattice.

“Yes, father, I need your guidance.” Cock, fingers, mouth… fuck you’re a full sinner, aren’t you!?

“Then come here, let us have our first attempt at saving you.”

Now you’re standing in front of him in the itty bitty room, face to face with Satoru Gojo, your Priest, and fuck if your nipples don’t tighten up, if your tummy isn’t clenching with desire. You’re nervously fiddling with your hands as he leans back, spreading his long legs as wide as they can in the tight quarters, his glittering blue eyes dilated as he licks his lips, making them glossy.

“You must show me how, and do not fret, sweet girl, it’s through god’s will of course, through me.” Father Gojo says, your breaths come faster as you slip up your sundress, and his eyes hungrily drink the sight of your bare thighs in. He leans forward, sliding those panties down, eyeing your glistening cunt now, his breath almost hitting it, making you jerk.

“Father… I cannot show you…”

“You can, I am here to help, have no fear.” He notices you’ve drenched your panties, a wet spot formed, sticky little strands of your arousal apparent as he pulls them down, hands touching the smooth skin of your thighs.

You put your hand on your pussy now, the other nervously holding up your dress, and you run your fingers in circles on your clit, crying out softly, as he lets out a low, guttural moan. You’re getting wetter as you play, as his large, sexy hands clench, the veins popping up out of the thin skin, and you’re trembling, imagining his long fingers working you instead.

Satoru is close to cumming as he watches your pretty face, your brows drawing together, your lips parted, eyes so dilated your pupils are taking over, just a thin ring of your iris left. Your lashes are lowered, and his hand stops yours now, as it’s playing with your soppy little cunt, you tremble before him.

“I see, I must help you, guide you. To get this… affliction taken care of. Yes?” You nod eagerly, then Father Gojo pulls you to his lap, and you’re straddling him, your hands sliding up to feel his strong shoulders under his robe, and he is touching your pussy instead, making you whimper. “Need me to save you, pretty little sinner?”

“Please save me. Please. Ah!” Satoru sinks two long fingers deep inside your eager little entrance, you gasp at it as he slips into your gummy walls, drippy and so tight. He’s paused, moaning and looking right into your eyes, you drown in his blue gaze, as your cunt drools down his hand. “Father Gojo… please…”

“Begging for it, are you? So tight, it’s so… have you had anything inside this perfect little pussy?” He huffs, feeling how you’re squeezing his fingers, then he hits some spot that makes you see stars, pumping up and down over and over. You cling to him, eyes fluttering shut. “Answer me, be a good girl for once, would you?”

Good girl for once.

There’s no hope for you.

“Nothing… no one… just you, Father Gojo. Mmm!” You’re covering your mouth as he keeps pumping, and he moans, dreaming of breaking you in all the ways he could, taking your innocence for himself. It’s surely what god is wanting, and who is he but god’s disciple himself? He thrusts those fingers knuckles deep, watching you fall apart over him.

“There, you’re loving this, fingers stretching your pussy, don’t you?” You nod weakly, gushing down his hand, you can hear the squishing wetness of your pussy as he now slides a thumb, rolling it over your clit.

“F-father Gojo!”

“Sinful girl.” He huffs, as you’ve buried your face against his neck, rocking against his hand, those long fingers fucking you so good it’s painful, moaning.

“Mmm! Father Gojo, I will… be good… for you…”

“Will you?” You nod weakly, as Satoru rolls your clit expertly, and you feel the pressure building, you’re panting, ready to combust. “I feel it, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, hips grinding, now you’re soaking his robes, he’s picturing sliding his cock inside you, breaking you, until your sins are cleansed, and you’re picturing him taking you, defiling you in every way your hectic mind can picture. Both of you are about to cum, you’re not even touching Satoru though, you want to, fuck you want to.

“Close, m’close… p-please…” You’re begging for release, seeing stars as he works your now sloppy cunt.

“I've got you, you can let go, you're safe with me, let me see your sins so I can cleanse them.” He urges you on, bringing you higher and higher with those long, slick fingers.

“Father, it's... I'm gonna... mmm!” You're so close, soaking the sleeve of his robe now. And he's so ready to slide into your eager cunt, looking up at you behind snowy lashes.

“Show me how you sin, let me watch you cum, so I can... help you.” He whispers, and you fall apart then, pulsing around his fingers, and he groans as he watches you, pressing up so deep. You’re gushing so much arousal, he can smell your sweet scent, as you scream out into your little hand, shaking.

Satoru is now sliding his fingers out, you whine, wanting more, especially when he is sucking your juices off his fingers, making you gasp. His cheeks hollow, his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you, your mouth drops open, breaths making you quicken, your heart pounding in your ears as you try to come down.

Your thighs are trembling over him, entire body lit up from cumming so hard, his snowy lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, before fluttering up, looking at you, your arousal coating his lips. “Oh my God.”

More sinning.

“You’re not being a very good girl.” He admonishes, but then his lips quirk up. “But, you taste too sweet to be bad. Or perhaps you yourself are sin.” Father Gojo whispers to you now, and you’re leaning closer, rolling your hips, making him groan, his hands gripping your little waist as your heat brushes against his cock. “Has it alleviated some of your… need, my child?”

He’s smirking at you, in a way no priest should! You sigh then, shaking your head. “No, Father, it’s only made it worse! You must help me more, I’m afraid now I’m thinking of sinning even more, and who I’ve been dreaming of.” You say then, it’s a whisper, as the room is hot from your breaths, smelling like sweet arousal.

Satoru blinks then, thin white brows going together, jaw clenching. “You’re thinking of fucking your own priest? That is a sin.”

“I know! It’s a terrible affliction. Oh Father, I’m going to hell.” You whisper, blinking back tears, still reeling from the aftershocks of cumming. Satoru arches his hips now, brushing his cock against your pussy, and you nearly scream out, head falling back, exposing your throat to him, and he pictures his hand wrapping a rosary around your neck, pulling tight.

You’ve dreamt of him too!? Surely this must be a sign.

A temptation.

But does he want to fight it? Your taste is all over his mouth now, as he feels your sexy little body against him, his hands brushing against your breasts, watching your nipples perk up. You look at him with intoxicated eyes, lips parted, your tiny hands clinging to his robes as you grind again, and he shudders at how fucking good it feels, your heat on him.

“I see… Well you must come to me tomorrow, and we will have to try harder, to save your soul.” He says huskily, you nod eagerly, as he helps you off him, his cock close to cumming, already twitching, he slides your soaked, ruined panties into his robes, you surely do not need them anymore.

“What if I have another dream father!”

“Do not touch yourself, I will help you when you come in, that’s so we can try to save you, yes?” You nod then, leaning close to his lips.

“Father, is it a sin to kiss your lips?”

“Not if you feel a calling, surely God wishes you to.” He murmurs, and you peck a sweet kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on him, before forcing yourself out of the cramped quarters, body on fire, leaving Satoru to finish stroking his cock, cumming as he shoves your panties against his face.

******

You’re dreaming of him again, of Father Gojo, this time his snowy white hair is brushing against your thighs, his tongue is lapping up all the dripping wetness, his big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. You wake up throbbing, crying out, seeing how wet you are, as the ceiling fan whirls, failing to cool your overheated flesh. Father Gojo’s fingers made it worse, your affliction!

The next day you’re painfully turned on, pussy aching for more, you followed his instructions and did not touch yourself, instead you forced yourself to go back to sleep, now you’re in the nearly empty church, knocking at the door of Father Gojo’s office. You hear his deep voice speak.

“Come in.” You nervously walk in, you are wearing a shorter blue sundress today, and no panties. You know Father Gojo will see how sinful you are, but when you see his perfect face, and him wearing a thinner, lighter white robe, your pussy is already making your thighs sticky. “My child, lock that door, so we can have privacy… we would not want your confessions judged.”

“Yes, thank you Father.” You lock the door with a click, stepping to him, your heels clicking on the wooden floor of his room. He’s sitting in his chair, fingers steepled, studying your body carefully.

“Do you have any updates on your affliction, pretty girl?”

“Pretty girl…” You’re blushing worse now.

“I feel I must call you what the lord is telling me. Is that alright with you?” You nod nervously, standing before him, the desk separating you. “So how were your dreams last night?”

“They were of you again, Father Gojo. I’m so sorry!”

You cover your face in embarrassment, hearing the soft thumps of his shoes as he comes to you, taking you by your wrists, big hands enveloping the delicate wrists entirely. Your head tilts back to look at him, he’s so tall and big… you’re drinking in the sight of him, his black rosaries hanging across his broad chest.

“You must tell me these dreams, so I may help you. Perhaps they’re some sign that we must see.”

“You… you were licking me, between my thighs.” His nostrils flare slightly, those swirling blue eyes thirsty as he studies you, your thighs shift, his hands still tight on your wrists.

“Your slutty little pussy, I was licking it?” Your pussy is clenching, tummy coiling, at his nasty, sinful words, from such a pure man. You nod then. “I see, there’s no choice, we must see what enacting your dreams does. To try to save you.”

“Y-yes, father, I think so too.” You whisper, hands sliding up and down his chest, watching his Adam's apple bob under that white collar. “Does it ever get uncomfortable, Father Gojo?”

“At times. Take it off for me.” He turns and you undo the collar, when he turns back you see it, his strong neck, the muscles corded, you bite your lower lip, earning him pulling it from your teeth. “This dream, describe it, so I can help you.”

You’re a flustered mess, especially after his fingers yesterday, and all the dreams you’ve been having. You take several breaths now. “You were licking me.”

“More descriptive.” He murmurs now, sitting you up on his desk, shocking you, then he slides up your skirt and smirks, wicked priest that he is, blue eyes darting back up to yours. “No panties, your soul is so slutty.”

“I… well… Father Gojo!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit with his thumb, watching you writhe on his desk now, as he sits back in his black chair, scooting up, his breath right against you.

“You wanted this, to be bare in front of me, didn’t you pretty little sinner?”

“Y-yes, I told you, I’m going to hell, mmm!”

He’s kissing your thighs, your hands enwrap in his silky white hair now, his breaths higher and higher, eying your perfect, glistening pussy. He’s dying to feel you dripping down his tongue, dying to drink your sweet nectar flowing when he’s opening up the lips of your pussy, and you’re making those pretty sounds, you’re so pathetic already, he thinks.

“No, I will save you, don’t you believe in me, pretty? I alone speak for God, I’m the honored one.” His words along with his eyes, those glittery blue storms that see right through you, as if they know your every sin, wreck you now. He surely must be the honored one.

“You’ll save me, I know you will.” You whisper, caressing his cheek now, and he moans softly, just urging you on more.

“That’s a good girl. Now tell me, what did I do in this dream?”

“You licked me, here.” You touch your slit, and he slides his tongue up it now, making you gasp, his tongue is so hot and wet, you’re gushing just from that. Satoru moans, kissing right over your clit before swiping his tongue again. “Father!”

“Shh, lest they hear your sinful mouth.” He whispers, and you clench your teeth, nodding as you watch him, he is placing your feet on either arm of his chair. “And you did not play with yourself?”

“I swear I did not, Father Gojo! I listened. Please…” You arch your hips up, full pussy in his face, and Satoru begins to devour you now, spreading your lips and flicking his tongue on your little swollen clit over and over. You have to slap a hand over your mouth, his rosary is cool against your inner thigh as he works your pussy, just like your dream.

Satoru’s tongue is wicked, for such a holy man you think, and it does the most wicked things to you, no dream could prepare you, even his fingers had not. He sucks your clit into his hot open mouth, moaning as your juices coat his tongue, looking up at you as you cling to his hair with one hand, the other muffling your cry as you feel yourself begin to cum.

Soon you are cumming right on Father Gojo’s face, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, pussy pulsing around nothing, and he’s drinking you up, so lewd in the quiet church office. You’re jerking now, as he leans up, half his pretty face shining with your slick, making you flush at how much there was. Your hand eases down, now just gasping for breath as you look at him.

“And now, my child, how is this affliction?” He whispers, leaning up and laying atop you, pressing you into the wooden desk. You lean up, kissing him once more, earning his moan, tasting yourself all over him, he grabs you by the throat then, long fingers wrapping as he pulls back. “How hard do I have to work to save your slutty little soul, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Father Gojo. It was so amazing… but I just want more, I fear I’m having more lustful thoughts of you now.” Your hand slides down now, cupping him where he’s thick and hard, and he squeezes your throat harder now, his thumb on your racing pulse.

“And what else is in that little brain of yours? What lewd fantasies of your priest, hmm?”

“Sucking your cock, that’s what.” He groans now, pulling you down and putting you to your knees. You look up eagerly, now Satoru is undressing, and you finally get glimpses of his body, of hard muscles and planes as he’s taking off his robes, now opening his pants for you, revealing a huge, thick cock. You gulp as you drink in the sight of it.

“And do you know what to do, how to serve me, my child?” He asks, you shake your head. “Yet you’ve dreamt it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then it’s surely meant to be, hmm? First, slide down your top.” You do as he says, and he moans as he sits back in his chair, gripping your bare breasts. “My God, you’re made to ruin me. Come here, open your mouth.”

You do as he says, and Father Gojo now guides you by your hair, hair he wraps around his fist, guiding you down on his cock. His curved pink tip is leaking white pearly substance, which you tongue out, earning his grown, his head falling back. You suck him eagerly, swirling your tongue, as his eyes watch you, lidded and dazed, tasting his saltiness and sweetness eagerly.

“You’re far too good at this, are you sure you haven’t been sucking cock, like a sinful brat?” You pull back with a pop, saliva dripping down your lips.

“No, I only want to serve you, Father.”

“Mmm, you’re so precious.” He whispers, before shoving your mouth back on him, and you’re bobbing up and down as he pulls your hair, using it to glide you up and down his length. Your eyes water, your nose starts running as his cock is choking you, your pussy throbbing even more. “Fuck…”

“Father, did you cuss?” You ask, pulling back, with a shy little grin, earning Father Gojo’s smirk.

“I’m allowed to, it’s all God’s words. Now are you finally satisfied, or do we need to go further? Do I need to break your pretty little pussy?” He murmurs, his words like a drug, running his thumb across your lower lip. You nod then, weakly, and his lips part, eyes studying you. “Then ask me, on your knees so pretty, like you’re praying.” He puts your hands in prayer position, blue eyes lighting up.

“Please, break me, Father Gojo.” He pulls you up now, kissing you deeply, tongues so unpracticed and messy, you’ve never really even kissed, but now you feel him, filling you once more with those two fingers as he bends low.

“Turn around and bend over, sweet sinner.” You turn, and now Father Gojo has slid your dress down, leaving you in just your heels, his big hands gliding down every line and curve of your bare body. “I said bend over.”

He smacks you sharply on your backside, making you gasp then whine out, as he presses your upper back between your shoulder blades, your face against his desk. He then takes your hands, putting them behind your back and wrapping them with his black beaded rosary. You whine out at the sensation, he pulls it so tightly it’s digging in, shoving the cross in your palms.

“Hold on to that cross while I fuck your innocent little pussy. Feel it against your skin as I do.” He says, whispering in your ear. You nod, feeling the sharp cool silver digging in, as the beads dig into your bound wrists. “Good girl, spread those thighs.”

You do as he says, and then his tip is in, stretching you, and you’re shivering, breaths coming faster and faster. Satoru shoves his cock inside you, tearing at your little barrier. You cry out at the pain, and he pauses for a moment, moaning, letting you adjust. “H-hurts…”

“Just a moment of pain to fill you with my light.” He murmurs, sinking deeper, and your walls are fluttering around his cock, earning his groan. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Did you want me to take it, your innocence?”

“I’ve w-wanted you, so long… played with… a long ah- time.” He moans now, sliding back out and in, you’re so wet and ready the pain eases quickly, as he takes you from behind now, pulling on your neck, pressing your bound hands firmer against your back, whispering in your ear.

“You sinned so long, playing with this pussy thinking of me?” You nod weakly, hiccuping on a cry as he’s pumping now, taking you over, stretching your tight cunt out so much, your skin burns, but you crave it.

You’re going to hell, surely.

But it seems worth it to be stretched by his cock so well.

“Y-yes… a long time. S-sorry Father…”

“Just Satoru when you cum all over my cock, hmm?” You nod weakly, then he fucks you harder now, thighs smacking your skin, his pelvis smacking your now sore ass cheeks, balls smacking your clit. “Ah, and you’re close already and your first time? You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Satoru!” You scream out so loud he’s palming your mouth with his huge hand, taking over your face, shoving his cock in and rolling his hips, making you climax so hard you cannot see. You weakly drool out of your lips onto his hand, as he feels your velvety walls fluttering around him.

You are made for this, for his cock, to take him. Your sweet virgin pussy is getting so filled by Father Gojo’s huge cock, but you’re already taking him so well. Father Gojo knows then that your dreams and his must be for a better purpose, to fuck you and fill you with all of his light, surely. You’re taking him more and more, cumming so hard your cunt is drooling everywhere.

He lets your face go, looking at your fucked out expression, your mouth is wide open, that drool dangling out the corner, your eyes are rolled back, lashes fluttering, your ass arching up for more. You’re such a sinful creature, but he knows your innocence was made for just him, clearly. You would not have anyone else, he would surely see to it.

It’s God's calling.

You’re pounded and stuffed by his huge cock, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, ass jiggling with the force, then Satoru pulls your chin to face him, he’s so fuzzy, you keep shutting your eyes.

“Look at me, my child, now.” He whispers, and you open your eyes, staring into his weakly as his thrusts slow.

“Y-yes, Satoru…” He moans at the use of his name from your pretty lips.

“I’m saving you, through… mmm… God’s wisdom.”

“Thank you, thank you!” You’re trembling, he’s rolling his hips and that tip is dragging on your spot, you struggle to focus on his pretty face, the sun from the blinds filtering in behind his head, and then he looks like an angel. The cross is digging in so much your hand is bleeding just a bit, but you truly couldn’t care, his cock feels too good inside you.

“Do you want me to… fill you…” He’s crying out then, grabbing you so tightly you can’t breathe. “With God’s love… and light?”

“Please, fill me Father- ah!” Satoru starts pumping faster and faster, yanking on your rosary so hard it breaks as he begins to cum, the beads flinging and clattering all over the wooden floor, the cross still digging into your broken palm.

“Going to put… so much… light in you… fill you-” He moans loudly then, and you feel hot liquid pumping inside, bringing you to cum with him, as it coats your walls, hot and sticky. “Feel it? Feel me filling you with it?”

“I do! I do… Father Gojo… feel it.” You whine out, rolling your hips to milk him for every bit of his hot white ropes.

“Oh… Mmm…” He’s pumping more cum inside you now, but you’re so wet and still convulsing, so it’s dripping down his cock with your arousal. Satoru exhales, pulling out and then wiping you up, turning you gently, gulping as he kisses you once more. “You were sent here to destroy me.”

“Father, I’m afraid… I only want to do it more.” You whisper, he groans, cupping your face, as you bring up your hand to him, where the cross has left red marks on your palm, he traces it, the perfect symbol of the cross, with little blood drops streaking. You wince in pain.

“I see, it’s a sign we must continue.” He says, and you nod eagerly, as he holds your hand in his.

“We must, Father Gojo.”

*****

The next Sunday, you’re sitting in the very front for the sermon, watching as Father Gojo is licking a thumb and turning a page, his blue eyes darting to your thighs, today you’re wearing a pink summer dress. Father Gojo has stolen a pair of your panties, he thinks you don’t notice, but you do, so you decide not to wear any again, opening your legs for a moment.

Father Gojo gets a glimpse of your bare, glistening pussy right in that church, making his cock hard in front of a room full of hundreds of his followers. Luckily the brown stand in front of him covers up such evidence, as he looks over at your face when you cross your sexy legs, you smile up at him, blinking innocently.

But you’re not innocent, not anymore, are you? No, you’re the worst sinner he’s tried to save, and he thinks he’ll have to work harder to save you. And when you’re riding his cock in the confessional later that evening, and he’s biting on your breasts, you’re riding him so well, moans muffled in the tiny room, he’s not sure he can save you truly, you’re too full of sin.

Father Gojo enjoys your slutty soul and your soaking wet pussy on him far, far too much, especially filling you with his cum light.

Serving Father Gojo is perfectly fine, it's God's will after all 🙏 Nanami and Geto drabbles coming some time too <3 Reblog if you're a sinner <3

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60569476

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