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kurooh · 21 days

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MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.

xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags

— MIYA ATSUMU

“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”

atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.

he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.

“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.

“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”

“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.

“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”

you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”

“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”

he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.

your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.

“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.

frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.

gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.

“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”

“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.

luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.

“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.

“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”

— MIYA OSAMU

“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”

“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”

your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.

in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.

“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.

“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”

“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.

somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.

“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”

your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.

“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.

“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”

it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.

“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.

you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.

“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ

“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.

spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.

“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.

“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”

“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.

“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”

tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.

“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.

tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.

he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”

“oh, i fucking will, princess.”

although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.

your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.

he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.

tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.

“hold me?”

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“h-haji, this was a good call..”

“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”

“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”

“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.

“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”

he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”

“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.

“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?

“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”

you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”

he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.

“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”

“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”

hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.

the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.

he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.

“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.

shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.

“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”

he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.

“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.

“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?

“you’ll take it, all of it.”

“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.

you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.

it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.

you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”

the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.

incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”

he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.

“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.

“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”

“like i need some more.”

rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”

your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”

2K notes · View notes

strang3lov3 · 6 months

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Invisible Line

Summary- Boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Roman Roy x F!Reader | 5.8k words

Tags- one bed trope mothafuckas!! mutual masturbation, unprotected piv, cream pie, oral (f receiving), come eating, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, power imbalance, needy and desperate reader, light degradation, manipulative Roman, Roman’s not the nicest but he does let you snuggle him

A/N- This is my first Roman Roy fic, so please be gentle 🫣 I know he’s got his issues with sex, so just play pretend with me. My usual Joel readers, I haven’t forgotten about you, he’s cumming soon 🫡🍆 but if you were feeling so inclined I’d appreciate it if you gave Roman a chance 🥺🩷

I had a fucking team of editors for this fic!! Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal, @papipascalispunk, @beefrobeefcal and @pinkypromisepascal for polishing this baby up

Fic notifs, Masterlist, Ko-Fi

You’ll never get used to the type of hotels you now stay in. All the lights glittering, floors shining, ceilings so high. You’d call it luxurious, but to your boss, Roman, this is considered modest. You’re always reminded that you and he come from two very different worlds.

As his assistant, you’re accompanying him on his “bullshit amusement park safety meeting in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere,” as Roman had so graciously put it. He’s got such a way with words. He’s exaggerating of course, always so hyperbolic. You’re not in the middle of nowhere, you’re in Nashville, Tennessee. It’s early June and the air is finally beginning to cool for the evening.

“We’re fully booked,” the receptionist says to you after first explaining that no, there’s no mix up of sorts, you had only booked one room and not two adjoining rooms like you’d thought.

Just fifteen minutes earlier, you helped Roman with his bags and such up to his room. Roman carried the heaviest of his own bags to be a gentleman, call it his soft spot for you or whatever, but just to be a dick, still had you carry his briefcase that he was more than capable of carrying on his own. It is your job, after all.

When you arrived with him to the spacious room, decorated with abstract wall art and odd sculptures, Roman wasted no time in flopping on the single king sized bed. After seeing no door to connect to an adjoining room, Roman sent you back to reception. “Well, better figure it out,” he said, waving you away, his eyes never once looking away from his phone screen. “I’m set here, so thanks. You can go fuck off. Have a nice evening and all that. Enjoy masturbating in your crispy white bed sheets, courtesy of Hyatt hospitality.” Always so vulgar. You’re not shocked by it anymore.

“Nothing?” you ask the receptionist. “There’s no way. I just need a single queen, I don’t care what floor it’s on. Isn’t there something?”

“Bonnaroo,” the receptionist explains, once more typing on her keyboard to double check and see if there’s a room for you. “Yeah, I’m sorry, we don’t have any other rooms available. Bonnaroo weekend is always when we’re busiest. People book months in advance. I wish I could help you,” she frowns apologetically.

You’re not upset. It’s your own fault. And you’d seen Bonnaroo posters around the lobby advertising the shuttle that transports people from the hotel to the festival. And you’d seen the headliners, too. Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, LCD Soundsystem. Friday and Saturday tickets are sold out. You’re not surprised it’s all booked.

“No, I know,” you reply. “It’s my fault.”

You sigh deeply, and the receptionist types into her computer, prints a piece of paper and hands it to you. “This is a list of hotels nearby. Call around, they might have something.” She wishes you good luck, and you pull out your phone to begin making the calls, only then realizing your battery is at 2%. Now you have nowhere to go but back to Roman’s room.

–

You knock on Roman’s door and wait. Nothing. You knock once more, nothing again. You’re about to knock for a third time when Roman finally opens, his shirt a few buttons undone and his belt loosened. “What do you want?”

“Can you let me in?” you ask, “I need to use your phone, please.”

Roman’s taken some getting used to. You never quite know where you stand with him, what exactly he thinks of you. Moment to moment, you never know which Roman you’re gonna get – the flirting Roman, the occasional sweet and tender Roman, or the cold, sarcastic, uncaring and taunting Roman.

“Can you let me in?” Roman mocks, opening his door wider and guiding you into his room with his hand on your lower back. Taunting Roman. His touch makes your tummy flutter. Something about his unpredictability thrills you, excites you. You’re attracted to it, and you don’t know why.

Your phone charges by a nearby outlet as you sit at the desk with the room phone as Roman paces around, rifling through his suitcase to find his pajamas. They’re simple looking clothes, pale blue bottoms and a plain white shirt, but you know the cost of the outfit is equivalent to someone’s rent. He changes in front of you, something he’s always done. You’re not exactly sure why he does that or what he’s trying to do, but you do your best to not steal any glimpses of him as you begin calling the numbers on the paper, though the task proves to be difficult. Flirting Roman?

The first hotel on your list is The Hermitage, which is a bust. The Joseph is also a bust. Conrad Nashville, same deal. You’re keeping your voice as low as possible, hoping Roman doesn’t overhear your conversation. The last thing you want to do is give him more ammo. You sigh as you cross out the names on the paper one by one with one of the hotel’s branded pens.

Roman’s on the bed, smirking, rolling his eyes. You can see it in your peripherals. “You fucked up, didn’t you? Forgot to book yourself a room?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, now calling the fourth and final hotel on your list.

“You shut up,” Roman says. “Told you to double check.”

You wave a hand in his direction to quiet him. After asking your now three times rehearsed ‘Do you have any rooms available?’ and being met with an apology and a no, you reply to the person on the other end of the call with a “Yup, Bonnaroo, understood. Thank you.” Sighing, you hang up the phone and bury your face in your palms. You know what your only option is here, and you’re scared to look at it, to look at Roman. You know that even if you don’t verbally ask, your eyes will say it all.

Roman slides off the bed and makes his way to you, then nudges your foot with his own. “Am I doing you a favor tonight?”

“I uh…”

“Oh, of course I am. Good thing I’m feeling generous, huh?” Roman’s lips are curled into an almost-sweet smile when you finally look at him. “Bed is mine,” he enunciates. “You can take the floor, I don’t care. Or push those chairs together or some shit.” You look at the chairs he’s referring to and nod. Roman goes back to his bed, and you pull your own set of pajamas from your suitcase, then change in the bathroom. Once out of the bathroom, you push together the chairs that Roman was referring to.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. No, no, I was just joking – we’ll share the fucking bed. Yeah?” Roman pats the other side of the bed. “I’m not cruel like that, Christ. Making me feel like some fuckin’ sort of - sort of sadist. Not gonna bite you.”

“Won’t you?” you tease.

That was the wrong thing to say. Your blood goes cold as Roman glares at you, displeased with your teasing. Reminding you of your place, that even though Roman can joke, make however many unsavory comments as he’d like, you can’t always do the same. Cold Roman. But then Roman cracks a smile, flashing his pretty white teeth and winks, his eyes sparkling. The boss-employee dynamic between you and him is always inconsistent, things going from professional to unprofessional, from friendly to friendlier.

He pulls the covers down the bed, once more patting the space next to him, indicating his invitation for you to join him. You round the bed and slide under the covers, the sheets feeling cool against your bare feet and legs. “You’ve got ulterior motives, don’t you? You fucked up the booking on purpose.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “No, Roman.”

“You totally did,” Roman says as you adjust the pillows behind you, “You’re trying to entrap me. You’ve weaseled your way into my bed so you can sue me later for harassment or some shit but I’m telling you, it’s not gonna happen. Trust me when I say that it’s in your best interest to behave yourself.” Roman drags his finger down the center of the bed, bisecting it evenly. “Don’t cross this line. Not even your fuckin’…pinky finger. Got it?”

“Understood, Mr. Roy.”

“Attagirl,” he chirps. “Wait, ew. Jesus Christ, Roman, you call me Roman. Not that Mr. Roy shit. God, that’s gross.”

You’ll take any chance you can to get under his skin after all he does to you. Flipping over on your side, you face the window and watch the city lights dance before pulling out your phone and silently scrolling through Instagram. Roman does similar, though he doesn’t reciprocate the courtesy of doing so quietly. He watches videos at full volume, shaking the bed with his giggles.

You shift to your other side, now facing Roman, who lays on his back. Your phone rests on the bed as you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks. You don’t often see him look relaxed like how he does now – how sexy he looks in those thin pajamas of his, his biceps toned and his bulge protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants. His usually sleek hair is slightly messy, and you wonder how those silky strands would feel between your fingers as you tug on them, with him holding you close in a tight embrace and his lips connected to yours, swallowing your moans.

You tell yourself not to think about it, about him. Don’t think, don’t think, god, do not think about him. Don’t think about his thick bulge or his hands or their wrinkles, the bluish-green veins that climb up his knuckles. Don’t think about his waist, don’t think about his soft tummy, or the thin line of hair leading down his groin and beneath his pants.

Roman’s looking at you, wearing that sly, cocky grin of his, pleased with the knowledge of what he does to you. He shuts his phone off and turns off the light on his nightstand, the faint glow coming from the open curtains now the only light.

He doesn’t take long to drift into a slumber, though you do, still thinking of the things you shouldn’t be. Images of Roman still dance in your mind for hours, you watch the time go by when you check your phone’s lock screen. You hear his voice in your head, that two word instruction from him playing over like a broken record. Behave yourself. And god, you can fucking smell him. He smells clean, like he always does, with notes of Caroline Herrera’s Bad Boy filling your nostrils – a cologne with a truly obnoxious bottle and an even more obnoxious name. Roman picked it out one time you were with him while he was shopping, just to piss you off. You’ve never hated the smell, though, and you love it even more on his skin. But he smells like sweat too, just a bit. So masculine and slightly musky, you can almost taste him.

Your hand has moved on its own accord underneath your shirt and between your breasts. You’re not sure when it happened, but you become acutely aware of it when your knuckles brush against your nipple and you gasp.

Roman stirs in his sleep, but he’s dead to the world. And you’re good at keeping yourself quiet – at least you think you are.

You turn your head to look at Roman, pinching and twisting at your nipples. Alternating between soft and hard, gentle and rough touches. Roman’s got his arm draped over his head, his palm so close to you. You imagine it’s that hand, his hand, squeezing and groping the soft flesh of your breasts, pretending that tingling feeling when you drag your thumbs over your sensitive buds is his tongue, all hot and wet. You let yourself breathe, the quietest moans escaping your lips.

And then you let your fingers dip lower, your fingertips skating down your body, feeling your sides and the soft curve of your tummy, your hips. Your hand goes lower and lower, your thighs parting as you find your core but not moving your legs wide enough to cross Roman’s invisible line. Tracing your lips first, your fingers travel closer to where you need to feel them the most. You’re wet, so fucking wet as you press your middle finger against your hole, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit.

You shift in the bed, spreading your legs wider and now circling your clit with your middle and ring fingers, dipping them into your entrance once more to gather your arousal and drag it up through your folds. Massaging yourself, you still pretend it’s Roman’s hand as you take in that sweet feeling that’s quickly beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each circle of your fingertips on your clit, fighting yourself to keep your hips as still as can be.

Romans voice startles you. “For a second I wondered if we’re near a fuckin’... earthquake, or uh– fault line or something, but you’re just rubbing one out next to your boss. Wow. Do you always shake the bed this much when you masturbate?”

You gasp, “Roman.”

“Or just when you’re next to me?” You’re not really sure what the right move here is. You could pull your hand from under your pants, but Roman’s already caught you red handed. Leaving your hand between your thighs is not the right move either. “Funny,” he adds, “I thought we just had a conversation about behaving. Didn’t we?”

“I know, I–”

“I mean, you get brownie points for not crossing the line in the bed, I guess,” Roman lifts the covers of the bed, then reaches for your knee and gently pushes it back on your side of the bed. “But you are crossing all sorts of other lines. You must think you’re sneaky. I heard you moaning, you know,” he accuses. He mocks you then, all snark and derision as he lets out exaggerated and breathy moans you’re almost sure you weren’t making. Roman, oh, Roman! Yeah, right there, Roman, please…

“Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” he asks as he reaches for your jaw with one of his hands, turning you to look at him. He pinches, fingertips digging into the softness of your cheeks. No hiding now. “Is that what gets you off?”

“No,” you stammer.

“Liar.”

The air feels thick and Roman’s hazel eyes are dark, inky black, perhaps from the lack of light or maybe, you think, his own arousal? No, probably not. He looks genuinely pissed and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, his intense gaze making you squirm. But you can’t seem to look away, either. He allows a silence to hang heavily between you both as he stares at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. And that’s when you notice it – with the hand that’s not holding your jaw, he’s stroking his cock underneath his pants. You can see the bulge, the shifting of his hand.

“You’re touching yourself too,” you point out.

“Yeah, now I am. I’m a man. You made blood rush to my penis with your fucking moans and your Roman this and Roman that,” he huffs. Pulling down his pants and letting his cock spring free, he continues, “So my dick is hard. It should be your problem to deal with, but I’m bailing you out yet again. Always cleaning your— fuck,” he stutters, “Your messes.”

You have no clue what’s happening here. Roman lets go of his cock for a moment and he reaches for your arm, guiding you to start moving your hand once again. “Get it out of your system,” he says. “Go on. You didn’t have an issue fucking yourself next to me five minutes ago, did you?”

Cautiously, as with Roman you know full well that this could be a trap, you begin to move your hand with his guidance. “Yeah, good girl,” he whispers in a hushed, almost imperceptible tone, one that you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “God, I can’t believe you,” he says more clearly this time. “You better make it quick. We’re getting this over with, and we’re not looking at each other. Call it your punishment or something, just fuckin’— take care of yourself.”

Roman adjusts so he’s flat on his back and resumes stroking his cock. His eyes are screwed shut and you’re watching his chest rise and fall, fully breaking the rule he just set. But you can’t help yourself, he looks so gorgeous like this. His pubic hair is longer than you would have expected Roman to have, but gorgeous nonetheless. He’s not the longest but his head is wide and round, with thick veins climbing his shaft.

“You’re watching, you fucking creep,” he says in a breathy tone, his words slightly broken. He’s not looking at you, only at the ceiling above. “Breaking the rules. You have a hard time with that, don’t you? Look, I can follow rules. Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit.

Roman rolls his eyes at that, then flips on his side to finally look at you. A flicker of what looks to be relief quickly washes over his features, but quickly disappears. He reaches for your shirt, hiking it up your torso and tugging – up, take it off. You do as he asks, taking off your top and exposing your breasts to the chill of the air in the hotel room.

“I hope you know that I’m not gonna touch you,” Roman says.

“I know,” you breathe. “I know you won’t, I just, I just…”

“Just what?” Roman asks, still stroking his cock. You take off the rest of your pajamas and adjust yourself slightly, then spread your legs wide, the invisible line be damned as your knees fall back toward your chest and you rub your swollen clit. God, how you need his fingers inside you. You’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, but it won’t satisfy you in the way you think Roman could. “Spit it out,” Roman demands.

Fuck it. You’ll deal with whatever consequences later. In the boldest of moves, you reach for the hand that strokes his cock and bring it to your pussy, guiding Roman’s middle and ring fingers to your entrance and pushing them inside.

Roman wears a twisted sort of smile as he curls his fingers inside you, now playing his own game with you. He taunted you with an accusation of ulterior motives, but it was all talk, like how most of Roman is. He suspected this before, but now he's certain: you have nothing but need for him. Amused by it, he’s now playing his game with you. As you moan for him he wonders, how much can he toy with you, drag this out? How much will you beg for him? Your hand is wrapped around his cock now by your own choice, he wonders how low will you sink, and how high will he feel by the end of whatever this is?

You’re inching closer to him. Desperate.

“Your hand is wrapped around my cock,” he whispers. “And you buried my fingers inside your cunt. Is something not clicking in that head of yours?”

“So good,” you breathe. You work his shaft, twisting your hand up and down. He’s thick, veiny, his head feels smooth in your palm. Roman’s touch is firm as removes your hand from his cock to hover it beneath your chin. “Spit,” he tells you. You’re so pliant, and do as you’re told, spitting into your own palm, Roman putting it back where he wants it. “Wow. I pull my cock out and you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”

All you do is nod.

“God you’re soaked. Are you always this soaked for me? Just walking around all day, panties fuckin’ ruined?”

“Sh– shut up.”

Oh, you’ve still got some bite left. Roman wonders how quickly he can make that diminish. “Poor thing, did I hit a nerve? You wanna fuck me that badly? Are you really that desperate for your boss?” You say nothing, just inch even closer to Roman now. You hook a leg over his hip, moving your cunt towards what you need most from him, slowly guiding him in your hand ever closer to your entrance and hoping he’ll remove his fingers from you and replace them with his cock. And thank god, he does it. He pushes your hand away, gripping his member and notching the tip in your entrance. Fucking finally.

But he only collects your wetness on his tip, then spreads it down his shaft. He pushes his pelvis forward, rubbing his cock against your hooded clit and making you shiver.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he taunts, now dragging his cockhead down your dripping seam.

“Roman,” you whine.

“Roman,” he says, mimicking your whine, exaggerating how pathetic you sound. “Is that all you can say?”

“Fuck me,” you gasp. “Just fuck me, Roman.”

“Yeah, I know. You know my name and how to nag me to fuck you. I get it. What you’re not getting is that I don’t care. It’s not gonna happen tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that… Just gonna fuckin’ play with you like this,” he hums, now pushing his cock up against your clit again, tapping you. “Yeah, you’re good. This is… this is good. I’ve been so bored recently, you know? Wonder what happens when I do this,” Roman stops tapping his head against your sensitive clit, now sliding himself left and right across your sex. He bites his bottom lip when you gasp and squirm.

“I wonder if I could make you come just doing this,” he muses, continuing to tease you. “I know I could. I could blow my load on your pussy right now and make you clean up a mess for once. Is that what you need? For me to show you what you’re meant for?”

Maybe, you think. Maybe not. You don’t know what you think. You need his cock. Roman pushes himself forward, fitting just his head into your hole again. And you think it’s coming, the fullness, the pressure, the ache and the stretch and the burn. He’s bent on his two prior rules, but compromise never comes. He doesn’t give in to you. Roman’s grinning, giggling to himself as he draws his hips backward, denying you. Watching how you struggle for him, how you whine and squirm and push your hips towards him. “Is it?” he asks.

“Fuck, is what?”

“Is that what you need?”

“Yeah, I need you to fuck me. Roman, please. Need it – need you inside.”

Roman pushes out an exhale somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. That’s not what I asked at all. Is listening really that hard for you? What do they call that, tunnel vision but for hearing. Tunnel hearing? I don’t think that’s right.”

“I’m sorry–”

“Google it for me.”

“Roman.”

“What the fuck do you think I hired you for? Google it. For me. Thanks.”

Roman lifts his dick again, rubbing it against your clit and then lining himself up again, all as you scramble for your phone and quickly open Safari. ‘Funnel visipn bur for hearin g’ is what you type, the combined sensations of Roman’s teasing and the too-bright screen making your task difficult. “Audi-auditory exclusion,” you manage to tell him.

“Lemme see it,” Roman takes your phone from your hand, squinting at the screen. “Auditory exclusion is a form of temporary loss of hearing occurring under high stress,” he reads in his phony serious tone, still teasing you, bumping into your clit and then notching himself at your entrance, again and again and again. Giving you just a taste of what you know he could offer you instead. He’s opening Wikipedia now. “Auditory exclusion happens as a result of the physiological effects of the acute stress response, specifically an increased heart rate.”

“Fuck me, Roman, fuck me, please, I’m begging, please, please…”

“Begging’s nice, good. Very good. Very cute. But uh–” Roman points to your phone, “I’m busy reading here, so maybe quiet down. I really don’t want to hear it,” he laughs breathlessly, but nothing about this is funny to you. You’re in tears now. Tears of anger, frustration, shock. Roman lines up with your slick hole, just as he’s done repeatedly before. He notices your tears, “My god, you’re crying for it. So desperate, aren’t you?” he mocks your pout, wiping away your tears. You tell him you need him. “Need me? What a strong word. Yeah, I know that you need me. Message clear. God, you repeat yourself a lot. Fucking annoying.”

Fuck this. Roman’s still on Wikipedia and down some rabbit-hole not even related to auditory exclusion. He’s stopped teasing you, his cock just resting, nestled at your entrance as he scrolls. And you take your chance.

You reach for his shoulders and flip yourself so you’re above him, then sink down on his cock. Roman’s startled but he moans as he disappears into you and you sigh, finally feeling that stretch of his cock you’ve been craving since you don’t even know when – long before tonight. Roman watches where your body connects to his, seemingly shocked. He scoffs. “Oh, fuck you.”

Roman pushes your body off of his, he’s small but stronger than he looks. He flips you on your tummy and his touch is harsh but just what you need when he finally grabs your hips, placing his palm between your shoulder blades and forcing your chest down to the mattress. He was somewhat gentle when he was teasing you before, but all of that is gone now, as he lines up with your entrance and slams his hips into you, rocking you forward. He pulls out almost all the way before doing it again, harder. So many noises. You – gushing on his cock, moaning, crying out for him. Roman – his thighs slapping against yours, his grunts and his curses and breathy groans. The bed creaking with each of his thrusts. Roman fills you up better than you could imagine – fucking perfectly –hitting your walls, that sweet spot inside you.

“So fucking wet for your boss. What’s that say about you, huh?”

Roman grips your hips tight – too tight. He’s denting his nails into your skin and it hurts, his thumbs are digging into your lower back. There’s no fluidity to his thrusts, no steady roll of his hips. Just Roman, parting your insides with the harsh rutting of his hips. His heavy balls swinging, bouncing against your clit, his soft tummy warm against your back.

He sets a steady rhythm, a rhythm for his pleasure alone. Fucking you seemingly in two, exactly how you want it. Of course you want it this way. He can hear it in your muffled whimpers and cries, he wonders if the sheets are stained under your face, soaked with your tears. Roman holds your waist, forcing you up with your back against his chest. “Fuck,” you cry, and Roman wraps a hand over your mouth, the other is groping your breasts. Not that he doesn’t love the sounds you’re making for him, he just wants to give you another reminder of who’s in charge here – of how this is gonna go down, according to Roman.

He tugs your earlobe between his teeth, his nose nudging your cheek. His mouth travels lower then, he bites at your neck where it meets your shoulders, the stubble on his cheeks scratching your skin. He’s sucking at your flesh hard enough to leave a mark – for what reason, he’s not entirely sure. To punish and to hurt you, humiliate you, maybe even mark you as his. It’s possessive and primal in essence, how the way you need him so fervently makes him feel powerful in a way he often does not. And you’re not helping your case at all, with your squirming and your whimpers only egging him on. You tried to take what you need from him, but he’ll drill into your head that you’ll only receive what he’s willing to give to you.

He wonders what comes after this. If you’ll turn on your side in bed, leaking with his come and hiding yourself from him, or if maybe you’ll cling to him instead. He knows that he’ll lay next to you after this and wonder what you’ll be like for the rest of this trip. Will you be shyer, about the same as usual, or maybe even bold? He’ll experiment with you, see how you react to a cold shoulder or a shower of attention. See what you’ll do when he squeezes your ass, or when sitting next to him in the car, the helicopter, or at dinner when his hand finds your thigh and inches closer to your sex. Will you lean into it? Will you squirm and push his hand away?

His hands travel along your sides and down your torso, he can tell you’re loving his touch. You’re shameless in your reaction to him, your pussy squeezing him, your wanton moans. Curious, Roman reaches for your clit just to see how you’ll respond. He teases you, tries to write his name with his fingertips into you. Lewd sounds of skin slapping skin, the obscenity of your pussy’s slick noises. He’s not going to last much longer, that is quite clear.

He doesn’t care to try to make you finish first, as a gentleman should, although Roman nor anyone else would describe himself as such. You’re on his time. He knows how desperate you are to come, but he doesn’t care. He’ll get his first, something he doesn’t often get otherwise. And so his pace quickens, still biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck and shoulders. He bets that in all those late-night fantasies of yours about this moment, touching yourself in the dark, you didn't picture him being a biter. This much is evident with your pussy clenching on him and your short gasps showing your surprise.

He savors that feeling in every inch of himself – the power he holds knowing you’re aching not only to come on his cock, but to feel his touch, to experience him. It’s still just a game to Roman. Maybe it’ll always be a game. He’s not sure yet.

His cock twitches inside you, that warm and sticky feeling in his balls is beginning to crescendo. “I need to come,” you beg. “Roman, please make me come, I need-.”

“Shut up. I don’t care.” Roman fucks you with frenzied thrusts, and he doesn’t pull out to stroke himself above you, doesn’t ask you if you’re on the pill or if you want him to come on your ass or your tits or in your mouth. Roman shamelessly lets himself go and fills you with his hot spend. His noises are like music as he comes inside you, melodic grunts and moans coming from deep within him. And you take it all, everything he gives you because that’s what you’re meant for.

Roman takes heaving breaths above you, pulling out and his spend spills onto the comforter. He doesn’t give a shit. And as you collapse down onto your hands and knees you think that’s that, that he really doesn’t care. That all of this was probably about Roman savoring the feeling of having control over another person, and that dangling pleasure over her head is how he’ll get it.

Roman climbs off the bed and you’re trembling. He flips you onto your back, pulls you forward by your legs so that your sex is centered with his face as he kneels at the edge of the bed. His mind has changed quickly – first he wanted to know what would happen if he didn’t make you come. He thought next about eating you out from behind, denying you connection as he tastes you, buries himself in your most intimate place. But you’ve done well for him, and it’s clear that you’ll take what he gives you at any cost. Roman watches you with hooded eyelids, offering you that connection as he brings his face to your center, licking a thick stripe up your cunt. Call it his soft spot.

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

Roman dives back into you, and you hesitate before reaching for his scalp. Tentatively, you do it anyway, just to see if he’ll react. He might smack your hands away, maybe he’ll place them down on the bed. You’re sure he won’t hold them.

He lets your hands linger. Your fingers tug on those sleek strands of hair as he eats you, his scruff chafing your thighs. His eyes alternate between fluttering shut and peering up at you as dips his tongue into your entrance, licking his spend from your folds. He brings a hand to your cunt, two of his fingers pushing into your heat as his tongue dances circles around your clit. He’ll never tell you how sweet you taste on his lips.

“Yes, oh god, Roman.” He’s kissing your cunt, lapping at your folds, his tongue teasing all of that sensitive flesh. His fingers curl inside you at the same time he sucks your clit between his lips, making you writhe for him. “Right there, Roman.”

You’re not sure if he’s indulging himself or you at this moment. He eats you like a man starved, he eats you like it's his artwork. Nipping at your folds, his fingers inside you never once faltering their movements. You grind against his mouth as his tongue flicks and swirls. After all that’s taken place tonight, it doesn’t take you long to come. You bite down on your moans as pleasure washes over you, and you come on Roman’s tongue, gushing into the palm of his hand. When he’s ensured that he’s milked you entirely, he pulls away and takes his place back on his side of the invisible line.

Roman had wondered if - once in bed - would you cling to him or turn away, but he doesn’t allow you that choice. Instead, he takes your wrist between his fingers as he turns away, curling on his side, effectively wrapping your body to spoon around his. He keeps your arm secured firm under his, tucked around his torso. Tender Roman. You’re on edge, he’s been relatively quiet this whole time, and you’re expecting some snarky comment or a vulgar insult. “I swear to god, I will smother you with my fucking pillow if you snore,” is all he says. His threat, albeit baseless, comforts you.

#roman roy smut #roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession fic #succession x reader #strang3lov3

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polaroidpascal · 7 months

Text

paradise city || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : guitarist!joel x f!reader

summary : when you and your friends go out to a bar to see a local band gig, you can’t help but notice how the guitarist’s eyes somehow keep finding you in the crowd.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, i imagine joel is in his early 40s, no age gap mentioned, mention of reader’s breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption, joel starts off a little shy but truly there ain’t nothing shy about this man, size kink (kinda?? a little bit??) oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dom!joel, joel gets a little possessive (you’ll see what i mean…), praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ofc

fic playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0afpHjoOFylI01OTbV5jol

(picture joel playing during the guitar solos in every single one of these songs 😁)

WC : 7.9k… (no one look at me. not a single soul.)

a/n : 100 FOLLOWER SPECIAL !! i apologize in advance for all the song lyrics i’ve scattered in this fic… i opted to make a playlist of the songs i think joel’s band would play but there were just too many good ones to pass up and i was losing it a little bit 🫠 also, shoutout to @joelsdagger for constantly yapping with me about this idea and letting me tease her about this absolute menace of a man and also @haileymorelikestupid for beta reading for me 🥹😭 it feels extremely fitting to post a joel fic on international women’s day where he fucks you so good, so i hope y’all enjoy !! <3

You and your friends have had a week.

Deciding you all needed a night to let loose and have fun together, your friend Erica found out about this place hosting a local rock cover band called Fetters Whiskey and thought it might be nice to come see them.

Earlier, you had all piled into the Uber and were headed out, a low girly chatter filling the car. The three in the back harped on about their spouses and all the little things that annoyed them.

“He left the dishes in the drying rack!” “She helped me clean a little too well and used all the cleaner, now we’re all out!”

The complaining did help them destress a bit.

You and Erica were in the second row captain’s chairs of the car, the three in the back doing their pregame de-stressing. “Makes you rethink the whole marriage fantasy, huh?” she jokes, looking over at you playing with the rings on your fingers.

You look up and breathe a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” you say with a weak smile.

“Well… have you had any luck finding anyone?” she asks sweetly, sincerely. Genuinely hoping someone has caught your eye.

You had a pretty nasty breakup a while ago, probably about eight months by now. You two had been dating for a while and the breakup honestly seemed to come out of nowhere, like some switch flipped one day and nothing was really the same. Your friends stuck by you through every up and down you had. You felt really lucky to have them.

“No. not yet,” you tell her.

“Well, maybe tonight’s your night,” she says with a friendly smile. “You deserve to unwind and let loose a little, y’know what I mean?” You breathe another laugh. “You do!” she exclaims, hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see,” you say, the rest of the car ride seeming to fly by, a part of you kinda hoping she’s right.

The bar is crowded.

You walk in, snaking the group between the crowd and making your way near the stage towards the back of the bar, men and women alike all brushing bodies the closer you get to the stage, drinks in hand, friends chattering away, everyone waiting for the show.

Two of your coworkers disappear to fetch everyone a drink while you and the others stake claim on a little area near the stage. A couple of guys are on the stage setting up the instruments and making sure everything is plugged in right, the lights dimmed enough to not really draw much attention to them. It’s not long before the others join them on stage and start playing. The girls return just in time, handing out the drinks as the music starts.

The band is pretty good (you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you’re more than pleased with how good they sound). They play some fan favorites like Wanted Dead or Alive and I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll, and they mix in some random fun songs like Play That Funky Music.

The drummer is clearly in his own world, head moving at a velocity you would think could give him whiplash. And he’s absolutely killing it, hitting every beat with fervor. You can feel the strikes of the sticks on his drums in the center of your chest.

Another guy seems to be the swiss army knife musician: pretty good at almost everything, filling in wherever he’s needed depending on the song. One minute, he’s playing his keyboard and the next, he’s busting out a trumpet, and the next, he’s busting out a guitar. And no matter what he’s playing, he’s playing it with passion.

The lead singer clearly loves all of the attention he gets. He’s feeding off the crowd’s energy like a cat lounging in the sunlight, basking in every cheer and whistle and fist pumping in the air from the crowd. He practically lives at the edge of the stage, crouching down to sing with the girls but backing up to sing and dance with his bandmates too, bringing them in on some of the harmonies and tying the whole show together.

But by far the unsung hero of this group is the lead guitarist. He hides off to the corner, leg posted up on his amp with the body of his guitar resting slightly on his thigh. He looks down at the instrument carefully watching his fingers strum each cord perfectly, furrowing his brow in concentration during his solos and lifting his head up to the sky. He looks like he feels every note in his blood, expressing it through the expert strum of his fingertips on the strings. He doesn’t have a mic and the singer doesn’t make him sing alongside him very much, but you catch him mouthing all the words and getting into the singing as well.

He’s a particularly pretty man and your eyes linger on him more than the others, always finding their way back to him, and always during the more raunchy lines of the different songs…

Well, I am imagining // A dark lit place // Or your place on my place

I’ma paint his town red // Then paint his wife white

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears // By now, no doubt we’re heading south // I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth

…but who can blame you when he has such a reserved, cool vibe. Plus, did you mention that he’s really pretty too?

And maybe it’s the couple of drinks getting to you more than you thought, or maybe you’re just crazy, but it seems like every time you look at him, he’s looking away from you. Like he’d been staring and you caught him. You swear he starts to look ever so slightly more flushed, but it’s practically impossible to see with the colored lights flooding the scene. No, you think, that’s crazy. You’re standing in a crowd of people, there’s no way he—

“Hey, I think the guy on lead guitar keeps checking you out!” Erica exclaims over the loud music and singing crowd.

You turn and look at her, eyebrows raised before you turn back to the stage. He does it again, averting his gaze the second he sees you look and you feel a flutter in your chest. He really is checking me out, huh?

You keep staring at him, waiting for him to look back in hopes that you’re looking away. When he lets his eyes wander back to you, you’re still staring. This time, though, he doesn’t look away. His eyes won’t let him now that you’ve caught his attention — like a fly in a spider web.

He turns his body ever so slightly, facing your direction more than anyone else as he plays the rest of the song. The lights focus on him, colorful spotlights of red and blue illuminating his face as he positively shreds his guitar solo. His fingers expertly tap dance across the neck of his guitar, his other hand working double time to strum on beat and hit every single note. You watch in a complete daze as he finishes, sealing off his musical escapade with the smuggest wink right to you.

He put on a show. All just for you.

Something stirs in your belly, a low heat kindling as the band continues to play. Their next song — god, their next song… — really puts the icing on the cake.

The jack of all trades band member busts out a sound board, the sampled sound of a snare drum filling the space, a warped, funky-sounding instrumental following.

You let me violate you // You let me desecrate you // You let me penetrate you // You let me complicate you

The guitarist shares a mic with the guy on the sound board, offering back-up vocals for the song. He’s getting a little bold now, you think.

I broke apart my insides // (Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell // (Help me) the only thing that works for me // Help me get away from myself

He’s locked eyes with you the whole time, changing the tides of who is winning this staring battle for dominance. Each second his gaze stays on you, you feel smaller and smaller, completely at his mercy. He backs away from the mic, preparing to play and licking his lips in a manner obviously made to make you even dizzier than you already are.

I wanna fuck you like an animal // I wanna feel you from the inside // I wanna fuck you like an animal // My whole existence is flawed // You get me closer to God

He glances back at you from his guitar, a smirk decorating his face before he turns to keep playing the song. You’re in a complete daze. He’s clearly won this battle, and you don’t even know what to do with yourself anymore.

You have to have this man.

Erica caught a some of his little show for you, watching him wink at you and the way your features fell to a focused stare at him. “Girl, get a room next time!” she teases and all you can do is smile back.

When the set is over, you and your friends walk back towards the bar, not wanting to leave just yet. You claim a few of the tiny standing tables, again gathered with Erica at one while the other girls try to cluster around another.

“So…” she starts, giving you a look of anticipation.

“So…?”

“What the hell was going on between you and that guitarist?” she asks, her tone of voice high with excitement.

You laugh, looking down and shrugging your shoulders. “I honestly have no idea,” you say, shaking your head and blushing a little thinking about his little performance. “I thought I was crazy until you said something.”

“Well, whatever it was, you should go for him!” she encourages.

“Please,” you scoff and laugh, “you’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m serious! While you were having your little… whatever you were having, I was watching the whole band, and the other guys weren’t doing what he did. And he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at you.”

You stare at her, a blush creeping up on your cheeks and that small fire in your belly growing a little bigger, a little hotter.

Erica looks up over your shoulder, “Oh my gosh, there they are!”

As if on cue, the band walks through one of the back doors. Having just put away their instruments and whatever other equipment they brought. They saunter in, hair wet from the sweat of performing and lifting all their stuff back into their van. Trailing behind the rest is that damn guitarist. He scans the crowd before he sees you, his expression opening with a bit of an urgency as he quickly finds the bar to grab a beer.

You turn back to Erica, mouth dry and nervous. “Please, you have to go talk to him,” she practically begs.

“No, I- I can’t. I don’t even know what to say,” you plead. “I’m so out of practice.”

“Oh, quit it. I saw you looking at him first. You had him going before he got bold with you. You still have game, go get that man!” she says.

“I don’t know, Erica—” you start, but youre quickly caught off by a tap to your shoulder. You turn around and it’s him.

“Hi,” you say, desperately trying to hide the nerves threatening your vocal chords and smile genuinely at him.

“Hi there,” he says. God, his voice is so deep. You couldn’t hear it in all of its beauty before, but it has a bass to it that rumbles in your bones.

You stare blankly at him for a second before you finally pipe up, “Um, that was a good set you guys played.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles, looking down at his beer and leaning against the edge of the table.

Erica watches with wide eyes before announcing, “Well, I’m empty. I’m gonna go get a refill, okay?” She winks as she walks away leaving you and this mysterious guitarist alone together.

You turn your gaze back to him and fully take in his features now. His eyes have their own glow to them that persists even with the dim stage lights littered around this bar. His hair is patchy from sweat but still sits pretty. His strong features demand your eyes and you’re unable to look anywhere but him.

He extends his hand out to you, “Name’s Joel.”

“Hi, Joel,” you say, shaking his hand and telling him your name. He echoes it and it sounds beautiful off his tongue. “Listen, I--”

“Y’know, you’ve got one of those faces that stands out in a crowd, anyone ever told you that?”

You shake your head, “No, not necessarily.”

“Well trust me, we’ve played our share of shows and none of them had a pretty girl like you in the audience catchin’ my eye every two seconds.”

You blush, starting to gather your mind back from the sudden thrust into a conversation with who you think might be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life now that you’ve had time to really study his features up close. “You’re no different yourself,” you offer.

“How so?”

“I’m just saying, you’d think the prettiest member would be the one front and center, not tucked in a corner by an amp.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between your own not breaking contact as he takes another sip of his beer. “I don’t want just anyone lookin’ my way, I guess. You gotta work to see this pretty face.”

“Pretty, indeed,” you agree, stepping ever so slightly closer to him. “You put on quite a show up there.”

He leans down just a bit, closing the gap between the two of you even more, “Well, I did have quite the eager audience, didn’t I?” he asks.

You stare at each other for a moment before Joel starts, never breaking eye contact, “Listen, I don’t really do this… but I also don’t get distracted like I did tonight…”

You inch closer to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah… your friends bring you here?” he asks and you glance at the other table where Erica lingers around your other friends and they’re all looking your way, trying not to be obvious and failing miserably.

“No, we took an Uber.”

“Well, what do you say to savin’ that money you’d pay for an Uber and lettin’ me take you home instead?”

Am I really gonna do this?, you think. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you may want, but the way Joel is looking at you, the way he put on a show just for you, how he spotted you in the crowd to strike up a conversation… Erica did say I need to unwind and let loose…

You grin back at him, “Whose home are we talking about?” you ask.

“I think you know, darlin’,” his tone drops low and deep.

A shiver runs up your spine, that ever-growing fire in your belly burning hotter and hotter. “Come on,” he says, taking your hand in his, making it look miniscule in comparison, and walks you towards the back door he came through earlier. You glance back to the bar, the girls still watching and Erica flashing you a smile and a thumb’s up.

Joel leads you to his truck, opening the passenger door for you. You see the backseat loaded with what must be his personal equipment before his door creaks open and he sits inside, the whole truck bobbing from the sheer size of this man.

He pulls you closer across the bench seat until your legs are touching, his hand snaking around your waist as you relax against his figure and his hands trace your sides.

“I meant what I said, y’know. That you stand out in a crowd.”

You turn to look at him as he quickly glances at you and you slowly bring your arms up, one landing behind his neck while the other cups his face. You slowly, softly, tenderly kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck leaving open mouth kisses all over. He tilts his head to the side just a little, humming at the feeling and settling his hand right at the swell of your hip, pulling you even closer into his side and squeezing just a bit.

The drive isn’t long at all. He pulls into a parking spot lining the side of the road and once the car is safely in park, he grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply. You hum into his mouth, not expecting the sudden movement, and melt into his lips. His soft, warm lips. Your hands trace his body, the two of you unable to get where you want to be from sitting in this truck.

You pull away from him. “Take me inside.”

He immediately leaves the truck urging you to hop out on his side, offering a hand to help you out but not letting go even typing the code for his apartment and after you walk through the door.

You giggle as he pulls you up the stairs of his complex, the two of you itching to have your hands all over one another. You reach the top and he twirls you around in his grip, grabbing you with one hand by the hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He kisses you with an insatiable hunger, like his life absolutely depends on it, as he backs you up until you’re pinned to the door with his entire body pressed against you.

He fumbles with his keys for the lock to his apartment door, lips locked onto you, eyes closed, lost in the soft sweetness of your lips. He snakes a hand behind the curve of your back to brace you as the door swings open and he pushes you inside.

Your hands tangle in his hair grabbing the soft, damp strands unable to pull him any closer but wanting every inch of him in your mouth, on your lips, practically in your skin. You bite his lower lip making him moan a little into your mouth and your hands reach around to his face, wanting to stay lost in the ocean of his tongue and cheeks forever.

He pulls you back and you whine, already missing the warmth and taste of his tongue, but your disappointment is short lived. “God, darlin’… Need to have you.” he says, voice low and completely feral as he grabs you under the swell of your ass and you jump into his embrace. Your hands wander back up to his hair, pulling and grabbing as he trails his kisses down your chin, your jaw, your neck, soft sounds escaping his lips with every tug and whimper you give him.

His legs mindlessly take him to his bedroom, knowing the pathway instinctively. His mouth leaves your body for just a moment when plops you down at the edge of the bed, but he’s right back on you in an instant, reaching down to the hem of your top. You lift your arms for him to pull it off and he removes it in one fluid motion. He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra next. “This okay?”

Your chest aches with these little moments of tender sweetness from him and you nod, letting him remove your bra and he does so with skill, not fumbling for even a second as he tosses it to the floor.

His eyes immediately dart down, taking you in. He’s all but drooling, his gaze burning hot against your skin. He sinks to his knees taking one tit in his mouth and sucking on your nipple. Your hands immediately run through his hair holding him onto you and humming at the feel of his mouth on you. His other hand grabs your other tit, massaging it and thumbing your growing bud before redirecting his mouth to the other side too.

His hands drop to your sides and run up along your ribcage trailing towards your back, closing you in and burying his face into your neck peppering kisses and licks and nips there.

“I gotta have you, baby…” he mutters into your neck. “Lay back on my pillows up there.”

You do as you’re told, lounging against his pillows and the headboard of the bed as he pulls his shirt off over his head and crawls up to meet you, hooking his hands in the belt loops of your jeans. He looks up, his gaze silently asking for permission and you nod. He pulls them down along with your panties in one smooth motion.

You didn’t think about how worked up you had gotten until your hot core, slick with your arousal, meets the cool air of the room sending a chill across your skin. You watch as Joel’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, subconsciously licking his lips and softly grunting at the thought of diving in.

You open your legs wider, inviting him in and he settles between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs locking you right where he wants you, all spread and open for him.

He immediately gets to work, unable to hold back anymore and expertly licks through your folds. His warm, wet tongue feels amazing on you as it dances across every nerve ending down there, each one sending fireworks across your skin. You whine and lean back, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth and squirming under his face.

His hands gently rub your thighs while he drinks you down, his nose occasionally hitting your clit making you whine. He draws flattened circles with his tongue, the surface area hitting you just right.

“Yes… fuck yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

He moans back, unwilling to leave you for even a moment and he keeps going. One hand falls from your thigh and you keep yourself open for him as best as you can when you feel his thick, calloused fingers teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in easily, so he adds his ring finger too, curling up and finding the softest parts of you. But God, are his fingers huge.

Your walls constrict squeezing his fingers and you leak more slick all over his palm. His other fingers flay across your lips and ass, gripping you slightly and he’s got you locked down.

His tongue continues at your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, the tips curling up and stroking you perfectly.

“Right there, Joel… right there… don’t stop… please, don’t stop…” You feel yourself getting closer and closer, the flame burning in your belly all night erupting into a wildfire and igniting every inch of your skin. You feel a tightness start to grow in your belly, inching down your insides as he keeps going, and going, and going, never letting up and reveling in each twitch of your body.

You look up and see him lying flat, his hips subconsciously moving against his boxers and jeans and sheets, getting himself off just from your taste. Finally, he opens his eyes, dark with lust and locks his gaze with you with one especially deep push and curl of his fingers and another wink. That fucking wink.

“Fuck… fuck…!” It sends you over the edge. The coil snaps and a warm flood fills your body spilling out onto Joel’s hand and into his waiting mouth. He grunts and whines, his tongue never stopping, not even for a second, as he drinks every ounce of your slick getting drunk on your juices.

He only pulls away when you pull him off by his hair, a single line if your arousal still connecting him to you and a groan leaving his lips as he lets you go. You fall back onto the pillow, legs collapsing from their own weight and twitching from your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Joel sits up licking his palm and bringing his fingers up to your mouth, jaw slacked and panting. Your mouth closes around his fingers and he groans, “That’s it, good girl,” he coos and you hum around his digits.

When you fully come back down to Earth, you can’t help but chuckle in the afterglow of your orgasm. Joel rests on his heels gently stroking your knees and you cover your eyes with your forearm, one big sigh leaving your lips. “I guess I should have expected a guitar player to have some skilled fingers,” you joke and Joel chuckles. “That was so fucking good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not done with you just yet, pretty girl,” Joel teases, holding out his hand to help you sit up. You do and he meets you with a sweet kiss, his hands cupping almost all of your face as he kisses you sweetly.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, you notice another amp sitting in the corner of the room. This one looks old, unused, and the cable management could use some work, to say the least.

Joel follows your eyeline. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“That’s a lot of cables for a little speaker like that,” you say, following the tangled mess of wires scattered on the floor. “Why don’t you use that one?”

“Jus’ got old. Bought a new one and I didnt need it anymore.”

A depraved idea pops in your head and the question leaves your lips before you can even fully think it through. “Those wires… how strong do you think they are?”

Joel looks back at your face, eyebrow cocked up slightly, “What d'ya mean?”

Your bashfulness catches up quick, a shy blush pricking your cheeks. “I mean… just the outside looks braided, almost… it kinda looks like… I don’t know, kinda like a rope…”

His face softens, a look of intrigue spreading across his gaze. “Go on,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, dripping with sultry tease.

You look up through your lashes feeling more vulnerable that you have to ask specifically (he seems to love it, though). “Well… I guess, how well do you think they’d hold a knot…?”

He bites back a smirk but can’t quite hide his excitement. “Kinky…” he says with a little nod. “I like it.”

He rises from the bed but he doesn’t turn to grab the wires. Instead, he reaches for his belt, the buckle clinking against itself. “But you gotta earn it first, sweet girl.” He pulls his belt out of the loops of his jeans and tosses it to the side.

He pauses a second before reaching for the button and zipper, enough time for you to crawl to the foot of the bed and rest your hands on his. You slowly move them away and take over, undoing his button and slowly zipping his pants apart.

You reach under his groin cupping his covered balls in your hand and he hums. He barely fits in your palm and you salivate at what could be beneath those boxers of his. You look up at him with another gentle squeeze before pulling both down, his cock springing out and up against his lower tummy as he steps out of his pants, the tip already red and leaking.

Your eyes widen when you really take in his size and you salivate. You wrap your hand around him and very slowly pump his length, getting a feel for his size and weight and staring at him the whole time.

He looks down at you, eyes still dark and mouth slightly open. “Go ‘head, baby. Kiss it.”

You feel a flutter in your belly again already and you do as he says, kissing the slit before taking the whole head into your mouth and circling your tongue around it. His eyes roll back and he lifts his head up to the ceiling with a groan, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

You slowly take him inch by inch making him slick with your spit and using your hand to pump whatever you cant reach. Your other hand gently squeezes his balls and you feel his grip on your hair tighten a bit.

“That’s it, baby… Mouth feels so good f’me…” He starts to slowly push you down his length, taking him deeper and deeper and being careful not to get ahead of himself.

But then you moan around his length sending lightning up his spine and it feels so fucking good… A guttural groan booms from his chest and he starts to slip, pushing you a little too far a little too fast and you gag, pulling off until it just rests on your bottom lip, spit gathering at his tip and spilling over the corners of your mouth.

Tears prick the sides of your eyes and his hand reaches down to wipe them away. “Shit— I’m sorry… are you alright?”

You cough and catch your breath, something new and hot burning through your veins. Something about the way he lost all control… “It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say when you pull yourself together a little bit. You wipe the corners of your mouth and reach up to slowly pump his length again. “Let me try again.”

“You sure, darlin’?”

“I’m sure,” you say, looking up through your tear-soaked lashes, a small smile ghosting your lips as you nod.

He nods back and you take him in your mouth again, closing your eyes and breathing through it, trying to focus on taking as much of him down your throat as you can.

His hands find the back of your head again, not pushing anymore but tangling through your hair as you work.

He looks down and sees your eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration and taking him so well. He drops a hand back down to your jaw, “Eyes on me, gorgeous.”

You carefully open your eyes to look up at him and when you do, his brows furrow with desperation, unable to look away from you as you bob up and down his length, hands once again pumping the length you can’t reach and massaging his balls.

“Shit, baby… that’s it…” he moans, watching the way your cheeks hollow and lips flush red from taking him. He’s twitching in your mouth and you think you’ve got him, flattening your tongue when he touches the back of your throat and swirling up his length as you pull back.

His abs start to tighten and you taste the slightly salty precum leaking from his tip. You work up the nerve to suppress your gag reflex as best you can, taking a few deep breathes before pushing yourself all the way down, taking his cock up to the hilt.

You stay there, letting your protesting throat constrict around him and he whines, his hand in your hair tightening and making you moan, another bolt of lightning taking over his entire being. His cock jumps in your throat and you think he’s a goner for sure—

He pulls you off his length completely and you gasp for air while he catches his breath too. “Nuh uh, baby. It can’t be over yet,” he says breathlessly.

You pout up at him, your doe eyes almost black from how blown your pupils are.

“Get back on the bed,” he demands.

So you do, rising a little wobbly from your knees and crawling back up onto the bed. Joel walks to the corner of the room and unplugs some of the cords plugged into the old amp.

He digs around in his nightstand and pulls out a condom before walking back over to the bed where you’re kneeling on the mattress. He sees you eyeing the little packet pinched between his fingers. “What’s th’ matter?”

You look at him, a blush forming on your face. “Oh, I…” Your mouth goes dry and you clear your throat. “…um, you don’t— I mean, I’m on the pill so, um… If you don’t wanna…” you ramble, trying to find your words but failing in your shyness.

He smiles smugly, tossing the condom to the side. “’S okay. I hear you loud and clear.”

You take a relieved breath and watch him stand there as he starts separating the wires. He twirls his finger in the air and you turn your body to face away from him.

“Gimme your hands, darling,” he says, firmly but gently.

You obey, reaching your hands behind your back. His giant hand easily fits both in one grip and he wraps one cable around your wrists.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, facing away from Joel so he can’t see, but you’re sure it’s audibly obvious when you ask “So this must be where the band name came from then, hm?” as he ties a comfortable knot around your wrists.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Fetters. Like restraints. Usually they’re on the ankles but I guess it’s the same principle.”

He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I didn’t help with the name all that much, but I guess ya’ really do learn somethin’ new every day,” he says just as he tightens the loose, but still restrictive, knot around your wrists.

You shimmy in them a little, surprised at how well they hold together. His hands are still there, rubbing over the covering of the cords and brushing against the warmth of your skin.

“These look real pretty on you, y’know,” he mutters from behind you.

You chuckle and ask, “You tell all the groupies that?”

He grabs your chin to face him, eyes scanning over your face for a second and planting a kiss to your lips before a positively devious smirk spreads across his face. Before you know it, he puts his hand on your back gently pushing down so your chest hits the bed.

“No, I don’t,” he says and you hear his footsteps fade. You sit there, face pressed against the mattress and ass in the air, desperately trying to crane your neck to see where in the world he’s going leaving you like this, all out in the open and exposed.

He treads back into the room and climbs back onto the bed right behind you, calves brushing up against the inside of your own as he grabs your hips to straighten them.

“I don’t tell the groupies nothin’,” he starts. “Usually jus’ ask if they want an autograph.”

The unmistakable click of a Sharpie cap rings in your ears and you feel the cold tip of the pen dragging along the skin right below the small of your back. You gasp, surprised at the unexpected feeling, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man, and you can’t help the butterflies it gives you, the way you mewl so quietly at the thought of him marking you with his name — his signature, no less — in such an intimate place.

You need to find a way to keep this man.

The pen trails off at the end and he recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere to the side before you feel his hands smoothing over your hips. He lets out a low toned, one-note whistle at you, staring at the dark ink branding your lower back. “Now, what a pretty view I have,” he says, a tantalizing, saccharine sweet tone lacing his words.

You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your mouth at his teasing, his big warm hands rubbing big circles over each cheek.

He sees you clenching around nothing. “Want me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

“Yes, please,” you whine, earning you a light tap on your ass.

He pulls on the cords and wraps an arm around your torso, bringing you up flush to his torso and reaching a hand to your mouth. “Gimme some help.”

You spit into his hand and he hums in content. “Atta girl,” he says, gently laying you back down and pumping his length with the wetness. You feel the tip of his cock rub against your folds and you squirm. He grabs your hip with his free hand as he lines himself up to notch right at your entrance. He slowly pushes just the tip in, the pressure making you moan.

“I gotcha, baby. Jus’ relax f’me,” he coos, pushing inch by inch into you letting you adjust to his size. Your walls twitch at the intrusion and your breathing gets heavier, soft sounds escaping your lips. Eventually, he’s up to the hilt and you swear you can feel him in your lungs. You subconsciously swirl your hips, the movement inside making you whine.

“Shit, baby… so fuckin’ tight…” Joel breathes, squeezing your hips and trying not to lose his cool too quickly. His cock bounces and he grunts, taking a minute before slowly pulling out of you as you whine at the loss. It’s short lived, though, because he’s immediately pushing back into you, the stretch and burn pulling a desperate groan from your throat.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You like how that feels?” he moans, picking up the pace slightly with each thrust.

“Yes— fuck, feels so good…” you moan. The way his cock drags along your walls makes your belly burn hot. His grip on your hips tight and threatening to bruise if he squeezes any harder, but you couldn’t care less. Just another way for him to mark you as his.

“Squeezin’ my cock so good… she’s achin’, baby…” He’s very talkative, you think and decide to play into it.

“She’s all yours, Joel. Pussy belongs to you,” you say as you squeeze him again, the pressure in your belly growing with each gentle kiss to your cervix that his tip gives you.

You feel his pace falter for a second, his grip tightening at that. “Yeah? Say it again. Who’s she belong to?” he says, pounding into you now, unable to keep control of his pace anymore.

You whine loudly with one of his thrusts when he drags up a bit hitting something new inside of you, something your ex surely hadn’t ever found before. Something you definitely had on your own but never this deep…

“Theeere it is,” he coos, pressing your torso down some more to get the angle just right and he’s hitting that soft, spongy part of you with every snap of his hips. You can barely form the words to tell him how fucking good it feels, nonsense whimpers leaving your mouth instead.

“Answer me, baby… Belongs to who?” His pace doesn’t let up and you can’t get the words out. “C’mon, you can do it, gorgeous… tell me…” he insists, slowly rubbing his hand across his own signature that’s been staring back at him.

“Sh… fuck, oh my god… she belongs to you, Joel…”

“That’s my good girl,” he says, leaning down and planting kisses down your spine, snaking a hand around to your front and circling your clit.

You cry out in pleasure, all the sensations getting to be too much. A flood of wetness spills out with a twitch of your insides making Joel’s cock slippery, letting him push in and pull out easier than before. He picks up his pace again with ease, rapidly hurdling you towards the edge.

My good girl…

That one little word finally hits you after a minute.

My.

His unrelenting fingers on your clit… the way his tip hits your cervix with every snap of his hips… my good girl… it’s all too much. “Fuck… fuck… fuck, ‘mgonnacome…” you mumble in a high pitched whine.

“Fuck yes, baby… come all over my cock, that’s it… feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’…” he moans from behind you, the grip on your hips definitely bruising now as he keeps pounding into you. Your back arches and your whole body writhes as your walls squeeze him impossibly tight. Your vision blurs and you have no control over the downright pornographic sounds escaping your mouth. All you feel is warmth everywhere.

“Holy shit—” you hear Joel but he sounds far away, your head still spinning with pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, baby…” When you feel like you can finally see again, you see a wet spot on the bed and your eyes go wide, quickly craning your head around as best you can and see Joel’s thighs soaked from you.

“Oh, shit— I-I’m sorry, oh my fucking god, I didn’t meant—” you stop mid sentence when Joel plows into you again bottoming out completely, your words trailing off into a wailing moan.

He drags out slowly but quickly regains his momentum. “Fuck, baby… Chokin’ my dick so good… So. Fucking. Hot,” he says, punctuating his words with the slap of his hips on your ass.

Your legs start to give out under you and it’s like Joel already knows you’re almost too gone to take anymore as he unties the knot at your wrists, your arms falling to the bed. He flips you over, managing to stay inside, and lays you on your back. Your hair lays messily on the pillow and Joel leans down to fix it, tracing his fingers along the side of your face and kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, he stares at your fucked-out eyes, his own completely taken over by his pupils so much that you can barely tell what color they actually are anymore. “Baby, you gotta give me one more…” he begs.

You raise your eyebrows worriedly, unsure if you can actually take anymore. You whine at his ask and he gives you another quick kiss, resting his forehead against your own when he pulls away, your lips barely touching. He’s moving in and out of you at a snail’s pace, so close to his own orgasm that any extra movement would cause him to snap. “Please, baby, I know you can do it. Doin’ so good for me already, just one more…”

You nod weakly and stare through hooded eyes. “Thank you, angel,” he sighs, gently fucking into you a little quicker and peppering kisses at the corners of your mouth. Your hands trail up to his shoulders rubbing up and down on his soft skin. Forehead pressed to yours again, you feel him panting, small moans and whimpers filling your ears.

“Feel so good…” you use all your strength to whimper out, barely above a whisper. His eyes open, brows furrowed in desperation. You feel him twitching hard now, so close to his own orgasm but not wanting this to end.

“S’good, Joel… so big…” He whimpers at your words, his hips moving erratically, unpredictably. He’s close, you think. And it eggs you on.

“Want you to come for me… Please…”

“Yeah? You want it?” he breathes.

“Please…” you say again in a whimper, grabbing his face in your hands.

“Where, baby? Want it inside?”

“Yes, inside… please, please, please…” you beg.

“Come with me baby… wanna feel you squeezin’ me… fuck— c-can you do that?”

You whine and nod, having been teetering on the edge of overstimulation with another orgasm growing in your belly. You roll your hips slightly into him, the extra movement sending shivers down your spine.

“So close, baby, I can feel it… ‘s right there, she’s chokin’ me…” he grunts out, painfully holding back his own until you come undone under him again.

Which doesn’t take long, a flutter of your heart and one big wave of arousal covering you from head to toe making you see stars. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, unable to even make a sound as you come on his length all over again.

“Fuck… fuck… good girl, ‘m gonna come—”

Joel’s breathing quickens, becoming ragged and broken as he grunts and whines and spills inside of you. His lips press to your forehead suppressing his noises with kisses there as he empties himself inside of you, filling you up completely.

Your hands scrape his back at his shoulders, your senses all blurring into one another. Joel’s weight falls on top of you as he moves his kisses down from your forehead to your nose and finally to your lips, his tongue licking into you as you feel his cock finally stop twitching. He sits back to pull out of you watching as his cum leaks out of you. You whine at the loss feeling empty but still so full from him, shivering as you feel it dripping down your body.

Joel wipes his sweat-ridden brow and sighs with a goofy smile as he looks down at you. Your body is still jolting from your last orgasm. Any more and you would have been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Now that I definitely don’t do with the groupies, sweetheart,” he teases.

You give him a playful glare and chuckle at him. “What about all that autograph nonsense, then?”

“Well, you got the first of its kind. Never signed anyone there before.”

You blush and stretch a little, suddenly feeling that damp spot from earlier. You sit up in panic and sit back leaning against his pillows again. “Shit, Joel. I’m so sorry. That’s never happened before, I—”

“Stop,” he cuts you off. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Sheets can be washed.”

“But I made a mess—”

“C’mere, baby,” he says, extending a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you towards him, both of you on your knees facing each other as his arm snakes around your torso pulling you even closer into him. “‘M gonna get you cleaned up, ‘kay? Got a spare bedroom we can use anyway.”

You stare into his eyes, his words bouncing around in your head. We can use. “We?” you ask.

He scrunches his eyebrows, raising one at you. “What, you wanna run away already? Was it that bad?” he jokes.

“Oh, quit,” you say, playfully hitting his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, standing up at the end of the bed and holding his arms out to you. “C’mon, pretty girl, how’s a warm bath sound, hm?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.” You grab his hands and stand up, taking a second to get your balance before following Joel to the bathroom.

When you’re all cleaned up, you walk into his living room wearing one of his t-shirts, a pair of his boxers, and some very oversized socks that he left in the bathroom for you to change into, towel drying the rest of your hair so it's not dripping everywhere. He sits on his couch, fresh pajamas on and dampened hair from the shower he took in the other smaller bathroom.

He taps the space next to him inviting you to sit, TV on and low, playing some random movie he found to fill the silence around him while waiting for you. You curl up into him, you warm from your bath and him warm from relaxing. He squeezes you close, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

Erica was right. You really did need this. Maybe it's stupid that you're growing so fond of this guy and you've known him for just a night, but there really is something about him. Something you can't quite explain...

You spend the rest of the night curled up next to Joel, your entire being content and you can only think one thing:

You’re not letting this one go easily. This one’s gonna be yours.

All yours.

a/n : thank y'all again so much for 100 followers, it means so much seriously 💜🫶🥹 and thank you for reading this fic that absolutely got away from me in the end, this idea tortured me for weeks and hopefully letting him out into the world will give me some peace finally 😭 but really, thank you guys so much and i hope everyone enjoys !!

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senascoop · 19 days

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DREAMSCAPE ☁︎ M.LIST !

WELCOME to the DREAMSCAPE MINI ENHYPEN series— a collection of seven unique fanfics that blur the lines between fantasy, crime, comedy, and romance. Each story dives deep into intricate plots, so if you were hoping for simple FLUFF or SMUT, you might want to look elsewhere. But if you're here for thrilling twists, complex characters, and captivating worlds, you've come to the right place! BUCKLE UP; it's going to be a wild ride!

WORD COUNT MIGHT RANGE FROM 10K—20K,

MINORS, please steer clear of the SMUT fanfics. However, don't worry—you’re more than welcome to dive into the fluff stories! They’re just as captivating and enjoyable, offering all the heartwarming moments without the mature content. Enjoy responsibly!

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﹙ 🕊️ ﹚ ぃ ──── SHE HAS LOST EVERY CASE, HOW COULD SHE WIN MINE?

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SUSPECT ! HEESEUNG × LAWYER ! AFAB READER

MATURE THEMES, LAW BASED & SMUT !

Heeseung is unexpectedly thrust into the center of a murder investigation, accused of killing an old school friend. The truth, however, runs deeper than it appears, leaving everyone questioning whether he's truly the suspect. Enter you, his defense lawyer, notorious for losing every case you take on. Against all odds, you're handed Heeseung's case, and let’s just say…it’s a recipe for disaster for both of you. As you dig deeper, unraveling layers of deception, you’ll have to confront your own doubts and insecurities. Will you be able to prove Heeseung's innocence, or will this case be another tally in your string of failures?

﹙ 🧊 ﹚ ぃ ──── DID I REALLY DESERVE TO BE CAUGHT UP WITH SUCH A TROUBLE?

OOPS, WRONG ERA !

READ HERE

TIME TRAVELLER ! JAY × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

20TH CENTURY AU, SLIGHTLY FUTURISTIC & FLUFF !

Jay was the epitome of a perfect student—charming, intelligent, and utterly dedicated. The only catch? He was a time traveler from the future, marooned in the 20th century and trying to blend in as a normal teenager. When you discovered his secret, you seized the opportunity. You blackmailed him into becoming your personal homework and assignment writer, using his advanced knowledge to help you ace your classes. Jay’s attempts to navigate high school life while fulfilling his unexpected new role provided endless amusement and challenges for both of you.

﹙ ☁️ ﹚ ぃ ──── WHY WOULD YOU SHOW UP WHEN I MOVED ON?

WINDS CHANGE ☁︎

READ HERE

EX ! JAKE × EX ! AFAB READER

ANGST & SMUT !

It's been five years since you and Jake called it quits, each going your separate ways. Life seemed fine—until the dreaded wedding invitation arrives from an old friend. Reluctantly, you decide to attend, only to find Jake, your ex, waiting there like a storm on the horizon, ready to turn your calm into chaos. With unresolved feelings and past memories looming, the wedding becomes a battlefield of witty exchanges, accidental encounters, and a slow unraveling of what truly ended between you two. Are the winds of change blowing in favor of a second chance, or will they only serve to remind you why you broke up in the first place?

﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!

GET WELL SOON シ︎

READ HERE

RACER ! SUNGHOON × ORPHAN ! AFAB READER

MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE & OVERALL FLUFF !

You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.

﹙ 🦄 ﹚ ぃ ──── CAN'T YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BY YOURSELF?

LIKE PINK !

READ HERE

GUARDIAN ANGEL ! SUNOO × CLUMSY ! AFAB READER

FANTASY & PURE FLUFF !

You’ve always believed you were cursed with the "unlucky girl syndrome." From tripping on flat surfaces to losing your keys every other day, it seemed like misfortune followed you everywhere. But was it really a curse, or just bad luck? You never quite figured it out. When a guardian angel was sent from above, you hoped your luck would finally turn around. Instead, you got Sunoo—a messy, clumsy, and utterly unhelpful angel who seemed more like a walking disaster than a divine helper. All you could think of was asking God for a refund, because with Sunoo around, your life was about to get a lot more chaotic… and maybe a little brighter, too.

﹙ 🔥 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW A TRICK TOO!

SIZZLES OF HIM ᯾

READ HERE

CLASSMATE ! JUNGWON × AFAB ! READER

FANTASY ELEMENTS, MAGICAL AU & SMUT !

There was always something about your quiet, mysterious classmate Jungwon that piqued your curiosity. You couldn't quite put your finger on it—until the day you accidentally peeked into his room and saw him hovering mid-air, surrounded by sparks of electricity. It all made sense then; he wasn't just your average student. Little did he know, you were hiding a secret of your own—one that mirrored his in more ways than one. Two forces of nature, each with powers as different as night and day, destined to collide. As they say, opposites attract, but in your case, they might just ignite.

﹙ 🍫 ﹚ ぃ ──── THIS MIGHT SOUND CRAZY BUT TRUST ME IT'S TRUE!

TIED UP IN YOU !

READ HERE

PHONE GUY ! NIKI × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

CRACK (?), PURE FLUFF !

Niki was a good guy, no doubt about it. The only problem? He was your phone. How, exactly, did your phone transform into this strikingly handsome guy? It was baffling, frustrating, and, honestly, a bit overwhelming. Here you were, trying to navigate a world where your device had somehow become a charming, infuriatingly attractive human being. And to make matters worse, he was as stubborn and endearing as any person you'd ever met.

﹙ 🍒 ﹚ ぃ ──── THANK YOU FOR READING!

Sena’s note: I’m not sure when I'll finish these seven fics, but I hope it’s soon. I’m unsure if anyone will be interested, but this was a preview of what’s coming.

main masterlist.

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 8 months

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Hi🩵 I hope you're having a great day

I was wondering maybe if you could make headcanons about how percy would be like in bed like his favorite positions and things he does to his s/o

THANK YOU IN ADVANCE 🩵

What Percy would be like in bed NSFW warning

check out my masterlist for more NSFW->masterlist

tags: percy jackson. Aged up. NSFW.

missionary for starters: so he can see your face and your reactions from above.

talking about above, I think he would also enjoy the foreplay to start things off - placing his lover against the counter or on top of something and get between their legs.

There, he can take off their shirt or his own shirt and do things slowly. In his mind, the bed is where things really start, so he wants to get comfortable as possible.

the idea of pounding and going harder is for very obv. reasons a turn on but he is hesitant to do it because in the moment he gets really close, so hes afraid he'll cum.

he has the habit of not only staring but also looking away shyly when they stare back. Sometimes he will hold the stare until either looks away, he likes to build tension during and even before they start. When his s/o makes noises, his eyes flicker to their face, he thinks its really flattering that they moan because of him.

once after the first time(s) he would be comfortable enough to start using different positions.

He would stick with the classics, missionary, doggy-style (this one really got his heart pounding in his ears he was so turned on he couldn't breathe straight and kept panting).

He likes the idea of grabbing his s/o's leg or ankle and yank them into place, like dragging them toward him so he can get a better angle.

Percy wants to keep quiet, so he ends up scrunching his face ups and cocking his head to the side, biting down and clenching his jaw tight, sometimes even holding his breath slightly.

but as soon as he breathes, a noise always ends up escaping. its like a half-whine but its somewhat high-pitched and doesn't last long (meaning he doesnt let himself drag it out).

the sight of his s/o looking up at him or looking at them from behind makes his hands somewhat clammy and he feels embarassed that he needs to wipe them on the bedsheets.

praise him, dirty talk him (this one takes him by surprise) and he becomes such a love-struck fool willing to do anything to please his lover. He needs to know if he's doing well, otherwise he will spiral and his thoughts will consume him - to the point where he might even run away.

if his s/o takes the initiative he feels flustered but also insecure for a moment: was he not doing it right? mind you, this guy is a virgin and has not done things with anyone, so he can't help but feel insecure. but yet again, convince him and praise him and he is back.

once the sex and the pillow-talk comes, he imagines scenarios for the future: like his s/o straddling his thighs while they're either on the sofa or in his bedroom, his shirt thrown half haphazardly on the floor somewhere, gripping his s/os thighs and he's leanign his head back in pleasure ...

he takes more initiative, not afraid of grabbign your waist or hips during normal day-to-day activities...it becomes such a visible change that his parents are wondering what happened.

Percy becomes more and more confident in himself.

his favourite position is honestly anything really, he isnt picky. but if I had to choose one, I would say the position where his s/o is laying down on their stomach and hes ontop behind them.

he forces eyecontact, that's all I will say.

he frowns if they try to control their voice, he hates it and will grab their hands away. or do it harder just for them to not be able to hold back.

has tan lines dont ask where ...

handsy and grabby but it depends on what position they're doing and the timing, honestly it's pretty random.

whenever he licks his lips its pretty audible, you can just hear it from across the room.

quirks an eyebrow (not to be judgemental) if you say you're too shy, because you're both naked at this point sooooo. but not pushy.

wants to get to know your body: fingering, touching you anywhere, making out.

Im sorry i need to add on that i feel like hes the type of guy that would actually enjoy standing sex. Like his partner gripping the kitchen counter or the wall while hes behind. I feel like he loves to get a nice rhythm going and the sound of his balls slapping against them, the obscene wet noises coming from their genitals, the panting and moaning from the both of them, his fingers turning white from gripping their hips (he's trying to hold himself back), his mouth hanging open supressing his voice (he has a bad habit of holding his breath while doing this so when he finally breathes he's panting loudly), him grinding into the person to pause (again, hes about to cum), he wants to keep going for as long as he can, the idea of milking and dragging out an orgasm is his favourite way to do it. And when his partner finally lets out a long moan when they reached their climax, they unfortunately missed how Percy threw his head back and yelled in pleasure too when he came. I swear the walls slightly vibrated when he finished with that moan, his father is the earthshaker after all....

#percy jackson scenarios #pjo #percy jackson headcanons #greek mythology #ares #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo series #pjo headcanons #pjo headcanon #pjo fandom #percy jackson thoughts #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson masterlist #percy jackson x reader #percy series

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syoddeye · 9 days

Text

consequence / snowball

price x f!reader | 2k words series directory | ao3 tags: exes, angst, cheating, references to depression. a/n: good things come to those who wait. ☕

it’s strange to think there’s a man in the living room.

by invitation. you’d extend it further and lure him down the hall to your room, but he might not appreciate it, considering you shit the bed by crying like an infant in front of him.

it’s the beer and ben. you should’ve arranged for delivery or left his things on the street. would’ve been less personal that way, safer, but you had to know—if you’d feel anything, if he’d ooze regret. you came out two for two, slapped with clarity. not only was ben unrepentant, he was happy. happier without you.

you gaze at the hyacinths above your bed. they remind you of john’s eyes. soothing.

~~~~

there’s a weight on john’s chest when he wakes.

cece purrs contentedly. she butts into his chin as he stretches, one hand stalling her advance to his face and the other scrubbing over his eyes. he tucks her to his chest as he stands and scratches under her chin while staring at the door at the end of the hall, pushed open to the width of a cat. not a sound.

he starts the kettle. it’s only polite.

in her cupboards, he finds the coffee and a collection of novelty mugs. he settles for ‘not paint water’ and ‘black coffee’ in the style of black flag.

she can’t meet simon. he’d steal her.

john refills cece’s water, then tiptoes around the living room. with the added context, he examines the decor and art in a new light. he wonders if she looks at them with pain or contempt. if any inspire positive thoughts, or if they’ve been stripped of them. if she, like him, keeps tokens regardless of sentiment. monuments to his own failings, shortcomings, and triumphs. and, if she does, how he’ll drown out the bad with good.

she startles him.

“morning.” she stands at the mouth of the hall, in sweats and a t-shirt, voice thick with sleep. “did you…?”

“hope you don’t mind.” he watches her shuffle languidly. “i don’t know if you prefer coffee or tea, but figured the kettle’s necessary either way.”

she hums and retrieves a glass pour-over from a cupboard. “i’m just impressed you’re here at all.”

you of little faith.

“not the type to flee a woman’s flat without a proper goodbye.”

“no? you often stay over at women’s flats?” her back is turned, but he hears the smile in her voice. “what constitutes a proper goodbye?”

his gaze lingers before he joins, ignoring the questions for his own sanity. “sleep well?”

after pouring water over the coffee grounds, she turns and leans, the picture of nonchalance, save for the puffy and still somewhat bloodshot eyes.

it’s not right to burn paintings, but he’d set fire to her ex’s studio, gallery—wherever the rat held his collection—if he believed it’d make her feel better.

“yes, actually. last night was, um, cathartic.”

he tilts closer, laying a palm flat on the counter beside her hip. “i assume there’s more to the story, but it’s your choice. i won’t pry any further. just say the word.”

“no, no. i want to tell you.” she sighs, focusing on the drip. “you’re right. i didn’t get to the best part.”

to that, he has no immediate answer. no inclination to rush her into conversation when she’s barely awake. in the brief silence, her dejection and shame seep into the space like the water filtering through the grounds.

john pulls out his phone, tapping through screens. “gonna need somethin’ to eat, sounds like. you been to…hm. ‘for goodness bakes’ bakery?”

she frowns over her shoulder. “john, i’m not suitable for public consumption.”

he lifts a brow. “debatable, but i mean to pop out and pick up breakfast. do you have a preference?”

slipping from his place beside her, he weaves around cece and heads for his shoes and jacket.

“you don’t have to–”

“i know. preference?”

across her flat, she fights back a smile and he fights his impulses.

“raspberry-filled doughnut.”

sweet. suits her. “rog. lock the door after me, shower, and i’ll be back before you know it.”

~~~~

the water feels hot, no matter how low you turn the temperature.

such a complicated influx of thought. flirting with john is effortless. talking is easy. he cuts through your guilt and grief like an icebreaking ship with none of the force or command. and he listens. really listens. you could stare at the divot between his eyebrows all day, the way his face grows serious, and his eyes somehow warmer.

for the first time in months, you genuinely fuss over clothes and skincare beyond moisturizer. are you pathetic? is this pathetic? you ask cece, she slow blinks and slaps the tie to your robe. inconclusive.

a knock at the door. you yank a shirt over your head, assess, and force yourself to walk calmly from your room.

don’t rush this.

~~~~

she smells faintly of citrus. coffee, too. though that may be the steaming mugs set between them.

“good?”

“the best,” her cheek bulges with a bite. her eyes don’t stray from the pastry, its fruity entrails spilled onto a plate. “thanks.”

they eat in relative silence, but he catches her staring at his bicep twice.

“rethinking your compliments?” he flexes the mermaid’s tail, dusting croissant flakes off his fingers.

her turn to ignore a question. she asks her own. “y’know, i never asked. do you live far?”

“across town.”

“and yet you come to the shop, what, three times a week when you’re in town?”

four, if he’s lucky. “good coffee. decent service.”

“right.”

she finishes and licks sugar off her thumb. john tears away to clear the table, ignoring another protest. last thing he wants to do is turn a lovely morning into an awkward one. he joins her on her couch, taking what feels like is quickly becoming his spot and prompting cece to sit on his lap.

“where did i leave off?” she asks rhetorically, staring into her mug. “ben’s big break. right. he was only originally supposed to be away for two weeks painting a mural for an architect’s office. well, midway through the job, the architect introduced him to a friend who happened to own a gallery.”

“the snowball.”

“yes. of course, ben’s gifted, but like i said, he’s got personality. the, uh, hustle. i can’t blame him for seeing an opportunity and taking it. at least that opportunity.”

john hesitates to address the continued self-deprecation with how her voice wraps around the very telling ‘that’. he bites his tongue and picks his battle. another day, he’ll help tear that veil of doubt from her eyes.

“anyway, his two week long trip spun out into six.” she winces. “he didn’t end up coming back once. not to grab more clothes or anything. he just had me send some along with selected pieces. he said there was no time.”

“and hannah?”

“neck-deep with the final school exhibition.” she goes quiet, lost in her barely-touched coffee. swallowing, her gaze lifts. “she was…busy.”

john sets his mug aside out of concern for the ceramic’s integrity.

“things became difficult. ben said he wanted to try long-distance before, so i thought six weeks was a decent trial run. i wasn’t well, but texting and calling him kept me afloat. then he started getting busier, and couldn’t text or call every day. one weekend, he didn’t answer at all. he did apologize, though, and sent me flowers—not as nice as yours, though. yellow somethings. kind of garish.”

he mirrors her small, sad smile, dropping it when she looks away. it’s deeply selfish and painfully juvenile to revel in that detail, but he does.

“eventually, his trip ended. things improved, rapidly, like he was eager to make up for lost time. dates, gifts, love notes. it was nice. he booked more work, but he bought a car, so he’d stay home during the week and travel on weekends. i couldn’t tag along often, since weekends are the busiest days at the shop, but he promised he’d be home for our anniversary.”

cece migrates. the ball of warmth leaves him for her mum, tucking her purring self into his girl’s lap. she sets her coffee down and idly strokes the creature, leaning hard into the cushions, holding her cheek with a palm. her focus drifts elsewhere for a minute.

he knew the story would inevitably reach this point. the crash. it’s difficult to believe he was so angry over a stupid dent.

“you don’t have to continue.”

“no, i want you to understand, john.”

his name’s enough to shut his mouth.

“at dinner, ben gave me his phone to show the photographs that a local paper was going to publish alongside an article about his work. i didn’t think anything of it, other than i thought he looked handsome. so i kept swiping.”

a gear turns in his head.

“and in the background of the last picture, ben and hannah were attached at the mouths.”

his blood boils. it is good his hands are empty.

“you know, i think he wanted me to find out like that. in public, where he didn’t think i’d make a scene.”

~~~~

ben called you crazy. crazy.

he’d taken his phone back with this look on his face and immediately demanded you lower your voice. you asked him point blank—how long?

he muttered something. months.

you’re not proud that you tossed a glass of wine into his face. knowing him, he was going to turn the breakup into a fucking piece. when he shot back from the table, he had the gall to act surprised and embarrassed. you contemplated throwing your glass, too, as he stormed out.

but he wasn’t worth it.

you’d lose your job. which you’d need, since you were definitely on your own now.

the bottle of wine you drank that night couldn’t cover the bitter taste in your mouth, nor could it erase the fact that ben won.

and you lost.

~~~~

outside, john loiters at the top of the stairs. the cooler air helps mellow his temper.

“sure i can’t sort him out for you? i know a man or two who’d help. there’d be no connection to you.” he smiles. if only she knew the sincerity of the offer.

“i’m sure, john. i’ll let you know if that changes. walk you to the corner?”

he shelves his anger for later. when her arm slips through his without asking, it’s swiftly shoved to the back. he squeezes her hand against his ribs.

“i’m curious about something.” john admits. “earlier. you insisted on tellin’ me everything so i’d ‘understand’.”

she hums.

“it’s not as though i didn’t follow. i did. i do, but i’m not entirely sure what you meant by that.”

at the corner, she withdraws and shoves her hands into her pockets. “i needed you to hear all the, uh, gruesome details. so you know what you’re getting into.”

“getting into?” his chest tightens.

a look of resolve falls over her face. her voice is the firmest he’s heard outside the shop, calling customers to pick up their orders.

“i made the mistake of rushing things before. i’m not keen to do it again. if you like being around me, john, which i think you do,”

more than you know.

“you should know i want to take whatever this is slow and steady. i don’t want to screw up again.”

he grasps for the right thing to say. slow and steady. he can do both. he’s laid on his belly for days waiting for a shot and knows the consequences of missing. to seize opportunity when it’s in front of him.

and this one’s finally wandered into his crosshairs.

#i swear to god do NOT junk this up again tumblr #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x f!reader #loser barista

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paarthunaxx · 4 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about G!pLarissa and teacher!reader in which they get into an especially heated argument in Larissa's office and one thing leads to the other and they're all over each other. Basically angry sex on Larissa's desk and reader is very needy and sensitive and ofc Larissa is all into that

(bonus if there's mirror sex, we all know how many mirrors Larissa has in her office)

Thank you in advance

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 IT MAKES ME CRAZY WHEN YOU ACT SO CRUEL — 18+

larissa weems x fem! reader

word count: 2.9k

status: completed

summary: You are a teacher at Nevermore Academy. After working late grading essays in Larissa’s office, she suggests you take a nap. When you wake up, an argument ensues and Larrissa takes her emotions out on you… but not particularly in a bad way.

tags: angst, smvt, girlpenis!larissa, angry sex, top larissa, mirror sex, slight degradation, slight humiliation, size difference, p in v, face fvcking, name slvt, name wh0re

note: thank u so much for the request anon 🥺 i hope u like it << 33

read on ao3!

The old record player set up in the corner of Larissa’s office quietly spins out the voice of Judy Garland, filling the otherwise quiet room with a sense of serenity.

You sit across from the headmistress with a pile of essays on your lap and a red pen in hand. As you leaf through the pages, you make little marks and corrections here and there with your brow furrowed in concentration.

Larissa leans over her desk and types away on her laptop. The sound brought about by the gentle touch of her fingertips against the keys makes it a struggle for you to stay awake. It provides a soothing ambience paired with the soft spin of the record player. Your head droops every few minutes and you have to shake off the sleepiness each time before going back to the papers.

“Feeling tired, there?” Larissa teases and gives your leg a nudge with the pointed toe of her high heeled shoe.

“A little,” You admit around a laugh and stretch your arms out above your head. “What time is it?”

She turns her attention back down to the screen of her laptop to check the time in the corner. “Just after eleven.”

“Christ.” An exhale escapes your lips in a soft puff and you shake your head. “I don’t think I ever got tired this early before taking up my position here.”

“Being surrounded by teenagers all day every day has a certain way of… sucking the life out of you,” She huffs out a soft laugh as her painted red lips turn up to reveal a pearly white smile. “It seems their youth drains ours.” Larissa regards you with a fond stare as your eyes begin drooping again, lifting a perfectly manicured hand to stifle another sound of amusement. “Why don’t you take a break, dear? Have a nap. You’re more than welcome to use the couch, and I’ll wake you in an hour.”

Your line of sight trails after her hand as it gestures to the red velvet couch positioned beneath a large mirror. The few times you’ve had the displeasure of sitting on it during your time teaching at Nevermore, it has been rigid and uncomfortable. It always left your ass aching and your thighs cramping. But in that moment, it might as well be the softest cloud you’ve ever laid eyes upon, so inviting and warm.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a spark of fear deep down that this might be some kind of test from Larissa to decide if you really are fit to be a teacher. However, as you study her sparkling blue eyes, you see only sincerity and concern shining in them. “Thank you,” You concede, ignoring your fears as you stand up from your chair. A groan escapes you as your joints make popping sounds in complaint at the sudden movement, your aching back being the loudest. “You sure you’ll wake me up in an hour?”

“Promise. Get some sleep,” Larissa hums absentmindedly and waves you off before turning her attention back to her laptop screen.

After another brief pause, you set the pile of essays down neatly on her desk and cross the room to the couch. You reach out and run your fingertips across the velvet, feeling the smooth material under your skin before giving in and sinking down on it. Larissa doesn’t glance in your direction again as you slip out of your shoes, set them neatly to the side and curl up in a little ball on the couch. It doesn’t take long before your eyes slip shut and you drift off.

Incoherent dreams flick through your mind like the channels of a television as you nap on the couch. After a while, your subconscious begins to grow suspicious that you have been asleep for too long. It feels like there should be an alarm ringing to wake you up, or something. You can’t quite remember. But you force your mind through the haze of sleep and make yourself wake up, anyway.

Blinking awake, you find yourself still curled up on the couch in Larissa’s office. It takes a second for your tired brain to orient itself and remember what you’re doing there. Your gaze flickers to the stack of essays on Larissa’s desk, and you groan softly when you’re reminded of how much you still have left to do.

“Hey,” You mumble and push yourself up into a sitting position, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. “Has it been an hour yet?”

You watch as Larissa glances down to the time displayed on her laptop and her whole body stiffens. “Um…”

“What?”

“It… Well, it has certainly been an hour.”

She avoids your eyes and shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her long fingers drumming nervously against the dark wood of her mahogany desk. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and you find yourself growing nervous as you watch her squirm.

“Larissa…” You begin calmly. “How long has it been?”

Larissa’s teeth sink into her ruby lower lip and she exhales through her nose before turning in her seat to face you. “Three hours.”

“Three hours?” You bolt up from the couch, almost tripping over your abandoned shoes in the process as you hurry over to her desk and scoop up the essays. “Larissa, I have to be up in three more hours, I don’t have time to get everything done!”

“Well,” Larissa scoffs and folds her arms across her chest. “Perhaps you should have thought of that. You should have been more prepared.”

You gape at her, your grip tightening around the red pen in your hand so tight it seems in danger of snapping in half and spraying ink everywhere. “You told me to nap! You promised you would wake me in an hour! I would have been able to get it done if you had!”

“Don’t blame your time management faults on me!” Larissa snaps. “The time simply slipped away from me, because I was busy working while you—”

“Don’t you dare!” You cut her off with a frustrated growl. “You promised!”

“And I apologise for that, but I was simply too busy to pay attention to—”

“Yeah. You’re always too busy to pay attention to anything, aren’t you?” You mutter before letting out an incredulous laugh.

Larissa’s gaze turns cold as she narrows her azure eyes at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” She forces out between gritted teeth.

“It means,” You pause to take a deep breath. “I have to sit in your office until one in the morning every single night just to get a sliver of your attention. For you to even notice I’m there. And I ask one thing of you, at your suggestion—”

“Is that what you’re pouting about?” Larissa curls her lip in a sneer as she stands from her chair slowly, towering over you as she rounds the desk to where you’re standing. “I don’t pay enough attention to you, hmm? The poor little baby isn’t getting enough attention?”

“Don’t call me a baby,” You warn, your hands clenching into fists by your sides.

“Then stop acting like one!” She raises her voice, practically snarling as she stares down at you. Looking at you like you’re merely a student she has to discipline. “Grow up! You don’t need my attention to survive, and I don’t have the time to constantly give it to you. If that upsets you, then get out of my office and go find someone else who can pander to you all hours of the day.”

You flinch a little at her words, but the hint of vulnerability only flashes across your face before the pure rage returns and you spit, “Fuck you.”

Larissa suddenly grabs your shoulders and shoves you against the desk. The papers of your essays fly everywhere, her large hands holding you in a vice grip. “Is that what you want to do? Fine,” She seethes.

“Huh—?” You start, but she immediately cuts you off and crashes her lips against yours. At first you can only let out a surprised squeak in response, but it barely takes a second before your resolve melts and you lean into it. You’re so fucking pathetic.

Her lips meet yours in what feels more like a battle than anything intimate or loving. Unable to control yourself, your hands roam over every inch of her you can reach, grabbing and squeezing at her soft body. She fights for control when you start kissing her back eagerly, her tongue slipping past the seam of your lips and exploring your mouth with urgency. You’re only just beginning to get into the kiss when she pulls away. One hand moves from your shoulder to sink into your hair, gripping at the strands and using them to yank your head back. The action elicits a sharp moan from you as she tugs your lower lip between her teeth and sucks before moving to attack your neck.

Larissa’s other hand keeps you pinned against the desk. When it starts exploring your body with rough squeezes, she uses her own body to keep you trapped in place instead. “Little desperate whore,” She huffs against your throat before sucking a large mark into the soft flesh. “Look at what you do to me.”

Before you can respond, she pulls back and spins you around, pressing your front into the desk and bending you over it. Her larger frame leans over you, caging you against the desk as she lets out soft pants into your ear. “Gonna sit there and whine if you don’t get enough attention, hmm?” She mocks, her hips grinding against your behind. You gasp at the feeling of something hard pressing into you, and immediately try to push back into it and get some friction. “Ah, ah,” She scolds, pulling your hair again. “Did I say you could move?”

“No,” You whisper, your mind going fuzzy with the inability to concentrate on anything. The feeling of her tugging your skirt up only makes that feeling grow tenfold, and you can hardly control your breath as it shakes with anticipation.

“You want this?” Larissa asks in a mutter, pausing just until you nod desperately. “Of course you do,” She snorts. “You little slut.”

She pushes your panties to the side and rubs two fingers over you, teasing your clit and sliding them between your folds. “You’re so wet already,” She laughs in your ear before leaning in to suck at the lobe. “So needy. So… Pathetic.” All you can do is nod in agreement and gasp at the sensation of her teasing you, her fingers circling your clit before pushing inside you. The little whines coming from you only make her laugh harder, the sound purely mocking as she spreads you open on her large fingers. Your hips begin to twitch with the need to push back on the digits, but you force yourself to stay still. You’ve already been told off for moving.

She fucks you on her fingers with fast, deep pumps for another minute before sliding the soaked digits out of you. She ignores your sounds of protest, gives a warning swat to your ass, and reaches back to start pulling her own pants open. You swallow hard and lick your dry lips, fighting a losing battle against the urge to glance back and peek at her. Before you can even look over your shoulder, you feel the head of her cock starting to press against your entrance, and squeak when she suddenly slams it inside you.

“Larissa—” You gasp, your head dropping down as you try to wrap your mind around the sudden fullness.

“Shhh,” She nips at your earlobe. With a tight grip on your waist, she pulls out halfway before shoving back in. Her little groans in your ear betray how it makes her feel, even as she tries to keep her composure.

Larissa’s body presses you further into the desk until her breasts are flush against your back and your own are squished against the wood. You can’t resist pushing back anymore, and this seems to set her off into a quick, brutal rhythm.

“Christ,” She moans, her hips slapping against your ass as she fucks you the way you deserve. “Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so tight.. So warm. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to give you attention?”

“Yes,” You gasp, resting your cheek against the cold wood of the desk and taking everything she gives you. “Yes. Gods, yes, this is what I wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you say that, hmm? Instead of pouting and throwing a fit like a child,” She punctuates those words with a harsh thrust, making you cry out as you melt in her hold.

“M’sorry,” You whimper, your hands desperately clawing at the desk for some support as she drags your body back into each hard snap of her hips.

“You’re not sorry at all, pet,” Larissa giggles, before continuing in a low, scolding purr right in your ear. “Don’t scratch up my desk. It was very expensive.”

Her cock plunges deep inside you with every sharp thrust, hitting that perfect spot over and over and over again. You can’t hold back anymore and allow yourself to meet her halfway each time, angling your hips to take her deeper.

“Desperate little thing,” Larissa laughs between panting moans. She pulls your hair to bring your face away from the desk while her other hand grips at your chin and turns your head to the side. “Look at yourself in the mirror, darling. Do you see how needy you look? So cute.”

The sight of yourself in the mirror brings about a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. You look completely wrecked. Your face is flushed and sweaty, your eyes rolling back a little each time she pushes her length deeper inside you. It looks as though your mind has completely broken and you’ve fallen apart, leaving you a whimpering mess in her hold. She, on the other hand, doesn’t have a single white hair out of place. She looks perfect and composed, as always.

“Poor thing, you look so fucked out already,” Larissa coos and slips her hand over your stomach, letting it trail down between your legs. Part of you wants to stare at where your bodies connect, but the larger part wins out and you squeeze your eyes shut out of humiliation. Larissa growls softly when she sees this and pinches your clit between her index and middle finger. “Eyes open, pet. I want you to watch yourself being pushed over the brink.”

Her warning words force your eyes to snap back open, no matter how embarrassing it feels.

“Good girl,” Larissa whispers and kisses affectionately at the back of her neck as her fingertips rub you quickly. The sensation of her fingers against your clit paired with her thrusting inside you shoves you into a climax almost instantly, and she lets out a delighted sound when she feels you clenching around her. She fucks into you like its her job, the feeling of you cumming on her cock sending her into a frenzy. She kisses and sucks at your neck, leaving you a mess of red lipstick and hickeys. Your body twitches hard as it tingles from head to toe, any remaining concentration leaving you completely as you whine and moan through your climax. Larissa’s fingers continue to work over you until your body relaxes and goes completely pliant against the desk.

“That’s my good girl…” She praises and kisses your neck one more time before pulling out of you. When you whine in protest at the sudden emptiness, she chuckles and shushes you, using her hand in your hair to force you down on your knees in front of her. “Let’s put that whiny little mouth to some use, hmm?” She whispers, waiting for you to part your lips before she shoves her cock down your throat. You choke at first, but when she pets your hair and waits patiently for you to catch your breath, you manage to relax and take her whole length.

Larissa only lasts a couple of thrusts down your throat before pulling back to spill onto your tongue with a series of soft moans. She strokes herself through it, coating your mouth in her release and laughing breathlessly as you swallow down every last drop.

“So good for me…” She praises when she’s spent, carding her fingers through your sweat-damp hair. “Come here, my sweetheart,” She helps you back to your feet and tugs you close, kissing your forehead.

You melt against her with a content sigh and loop your arms around her waist. Your body shakes from exertion as you snuggle into her chest, nuzzling your nose between her breasts.

“Happy now? Is that enough attention for you, darling, or do you need more?” She teases with a fond smile, encasing you in her long arms and keeping you close.

A mischievous little smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you whisper breathlessly, “...More.”

She tips her head back with a bright laugh, and shakes her head. “Cheeky little thing…” She hums and lets go of you before sinking down onto her knees. She lavishes a few kisses to your thighs, her lips creeping closer to your pussy as both hands rest on your ass, tugging you closer until you’re positioned right over her face.

“....Very well.”

#i love larissa weems #larissa weems x reader fic #larissa weems x me #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems fanfiction #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x reader

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lyneira · 1 year

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♡ sorry, they're already taken ♡

-> someone confesses to you, his dear lover, in front of him, how would he react?

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

Watches from afar

Cater, Jack, Silver, Neige, Jamil, Kalim, Che'nya

He trusts that you'll turn them down and he knows that you know how to handle the situation, so he doesn't see the need to step in. They're just expressing their feelings and there isn't any real harm done from it, after all. It would also be a funny story to recall later in the future.

Though, don't be fooled by this calm nature of his. If they dare try to touch you or make any physical advances towards you, he will be on the perpetrator in an instant and will ensure that they regret it.

Confronts IMMEDIATELY

Epel, Floyd, Leona, Ace, Riddle, Sebek

When he sees them confessing to you, he'd scoff, absolutely astounded. Has he not made it clear enough to everyone that you two were together? He's always had his arm around you, always talked about you, and was almost always by your side, so to say that he was shocked that a person had the audacity to confess to you even after all that was an understatement. So he'll confront them immediately, telling them to back off since you two are already together. And if they don't, he won't hesitate to get physical

Don't worry though, if you tell him to calm down, he'll listen to you. As long as they understand that you're already taken- by him specifically- he'll be able to cool his jets.

After they leave, he'll huff while grabbing you and hugging you protectively, muttering to himself that he should make it more clear to others that you two are together. Maybe he'll find more ways of doing so, whether it's giving you one of his belongings to wear, or giving you love bites in places for everyone to see 😏 he'll find a way so that something like this doesn't happen again, as much as he can help it

Finds it 'funny'

Malleus, Jade, Rollo, Azul, Lilia, Rook, Vil

He'd be amused by the situation. (Not a funny "haha" type of "amused", but a rather one of intrigue and surprise) Look, he understands why they hold adoration for you. He understands it himself all too well, so he can't find himself blaming them. At the same time, just because he understands doesn't mean he's willing to let you go or share you. It seems that it must be reiterated that you're his and he's yours.

He'll be "kind" enough to let them finish their confession before standing his ground by approaching you, pulling you close to him by the waist and giving an ever so subtle threatening smile to the confessor, "I understand your sentiments towards my lover, truly...and we would appreciate if you'd take your leave now"

Basically, he'd act possessive asf in this situation, just like in the previous category, except with a different and less explosive demeanor

Awkwardly steps in

Ruggie, Idia, Deuce, Trey

He'll step in if he sees that you're feeling awkward about the situation (otherwise he'll let you handle it if he sees you have no problem dealing with it)

But tbh he'd definitely feel just as awkward in attempting to explain it to the confessor. It could be a possible misunderstanding or that they didn't know that you were already taken, so he'll set things right, albeit sheepishly.

It's not until the confessor underestimates him and tells you to ditch him does a surge of confidence suddenly flow within him and he'll become more forward and direct in proving that they won't be able go break you two up.

He might be awkward in certain situations, but when it comes to defending you and the love that you two share, he won't hesitate to fiercely protect it.

a/n: tbh I felt "meh" about this one, but just wanted to have something out there and check if my posts are finally showing up again in the tags aaaa

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

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Compromise: cbf!soap x f!reader

Despite what you said you spent every moment of your free time waiting for Johnny.

It was subconscious at first. You constantly looked at your phone for any missing texts or phone calls, or a voicemail. Eventually you found yourself waiting for him to reach out.

The months went by and there was nothing.

You went to class and studied with your mind on Johnny. You had no clue how basic training worked, if he had any free time or if he decided to completely cut you off. You couldn't blame him but you never thought it that much because it made you feel awful.

Ever since he left you had felt incredibly numb. You weren't sure if that was worse than feeling miserable all the time, though you did know if you didn't keep yourself busy you'd probably either be crying too much or would just be frozen.

By the end of October you were used to it. This was going to be the way your life would be until the heartbreak wore off, until his absence was only mildly upsetting.

You sat on your bed in your dorm one evening and your phone rang.

You hesitated to pick it up for only a second before you saw that it was him, it was Johnny.

"Johnny?" You asked immediately, your vision blurring and your throat tightening.

"You picked up...!" He sounded surprised and relieved.

A few tears fell at the sound of his voice but you felt relief, happiness and sadness all at the same time.

"Yeah, um, how is it? How are you?" You asked him as you wiped away the tears.

"It's good, I'm good." He was vague but you didn't really care. "Better now that I'm talking to you."

"Me too."

You both went silent but it was comforting knowing that he was on the other end of the phone. You wondered what this meant, if maybe he was coming home.

"What's going on?" You wondered hopefully. "Are you finished...?"

"Yeah, basic training is over but I'll be going to advanced training tomorrow." He explained and you frowned.

You shouldn't have gotten so hopeful.

"Oh...how long is that going to be?" You asked and tried to hide your disappointment.

"Depends. It might be until the end of April." He said and you sighed.

That was seven months from now. And there was no telling that he'd even come home after that. He might have to go to another training he might start work.

You both we're already nineteen by now too (having missed each other's birthdays since he was gone). Would he be twenty before he came home? Would he come home at all?

"But I'll have a lot more time to call..." He trailed off and you perked up. "If that's something-"

"You had better call me when you can!" You exclaimed and he barked out a laugh.

"I will, I promise."

It was like the seeing the sun again after constant rain. You stayed on the phone with him for hours catching up with him the best either of you could. Just being able to hear him, to know that he was going to call you again was enough to have you feeling better than you had in months.

It was well into the night when you started falling asleep. You had classes in the morning and you didn’t care but the day was catching up to you.

“I should go.” Johnny said and you huffed.

“Don’t want you to.” You mumbled and he sighed.

“I’ll try to call you tomorrow.”

You hid your face in your pillow trying to your hardest to not get upset. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to possibly never hear him again.

You just wanted him with you again.

“I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too.” He said back softly.

Neither of you were willing to end the call for a couple minutes. You knew both of you needed to go to bed but you just couldn’t.

“Goodnight, bonnie.” He said and you sniffled.

“Goodnight, Johnny. I love you.”

Silence.

“I love you too.”

Johnny ended the call and you stared into your dark room for a couple minutes.

You hoped he would call again tomorrow.

A/n: see alls great! *pushes upcoming angst away* promise

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf

#cbf!soap #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mactavish

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

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Lost in Ikea. || John Price x Reader

For @glitterypirateduck's “O, Captain!” writing challenge! I used prompts:

4. Lost in an IKEA

41. Price and Reader run into each other (literally)

48. A character tries to hide that they are crying or upset

Rating: E Words: 1.3K cw: period/menstruation + symptoms, feelings of inaddequacy?. Tags: afab!reader (bc menstruation), you/your pronouns but no Y/N, crying, hurt/comfort, strangers. Summary: Reader is just having a bad day and John is a kind stranger. a/n: I just needed a little hurt/comfort for the soul. This isn't too serious. Also the 'lost' part of Ikea is more emotional than physical. ALSO ALSO, OFC I HAD TO DO THIS PROMPT, my screen name is literally Ikea.

Should you have gone to Ikea while on your period, when you’re in pain and light-headed and in a mood to kill a man? No.

Here’s the thing, you wanted a specific little bear plush they sell there (DJUNGELSKOG). And a meal from the restaurant. And maybe a new lamp. And a new set of bed covers and pillows. And honestly, you could use a little trolley for your craft supplies. And since you’re there you might as well no longer postpone buying that shelf you need-

You walked around the store for over two hours just looking at everything and, steadily, filling up your card with more than you expected. Little knick-knacks, a new set of cups for the kitchen, a picture frame, etc. etc.

You took your time, moved at your own pace, slowly observing all the room displays… Maybe got lost at one point, but that’s neither here nor there.

Once you found a storage trolley you liked, as well as a shelf, you advanced through the warehouse, pushing your large cart along.

The trolley came first. It was small and light enough and after checking that the box said White, you found yourself perfectly able to drag it onto the large metal warehouse platform cart.

But then the shelf- you crouched down and tried to get a grip on the box and pull, but the bitch was heavy. You huffed and struggled, but it wouldn’t budge. It probably didn’t help that both your womb and your lower back were throwing a rager of cramps and all your muscles were sore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have come on your period. Another weekend, any other weekend, and you’ve been strong enough to get the box with the disassembled shelf off its perch… But you wanted to do it today!

You wanted to feel like you got something done. You wanted the sense of accomplishment… You wanted to feel like you persevered through the pain!

You had the whole day planned out: You got out of bed, you showered, you had proper food and a desert, you cleaned your house, you went outside, and you finally completed something you had been putting off!

You couldn’t leave without the last one! You had to get it out! You wanted to take the stupid shelf home with you!!!!

Tears start pooling in your eyes, your lip beginning to tremble. You’ll blame it on the hormones and the frustration.

Stomping your feet, you walk down the aisle, abandoning your cart and turn the corner intent on pushing the box out from the other side-

Then you smack into a person and it knocks you so off balance (you were already sort of light-headed either way) that you drop onto the linoleum floor.

If the day wasn’t already bad enough and you weren’t already crying, taking a hard seat on the floor in front of a stranger only made you feel that much worse.

“Christ, you alright?” A man’s concerned voice comes from above you. You wince and close your eyes hard, trying to conceal the tears in them.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. I was in a hurry and wasn’t paying attention.” You murmur and turn to the side, using the floor and the industrial shelf next to you to pull yourself up to your feet.

“No, I’m sorry, I was walking fast too.” He replies. “I wasn’t fast enough to catch you. Might be getting old. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” His tone sounds playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, haha.” You try to laugh it off. You still haven’t properly glanced at him and he can tell that you’re trying to conceal your redened eyes as you look off to the side.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” He checks, his voice a lot more gentle.

God, you feel pathetic. Crying in front of a stranger in the middle of an IKEA warehouse.

“I’m fine… Just… having a bad day.” You reply and for a moment you finally look over at him.

Great. On top of making a fool of yourself in front of a stranger who happens to be super kind, said stranger is also older and hot, definitely a dilf. Great, just great. You really should’ve stayed at home today.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He replies softly as he peers at you with bright blue eyes under thick brown eyebrows.

“It’s fine. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make this whole thing awkward. I’m sorry.” You turn to return to your things. Fuck the damn shelf, you’re going home and never coming to this IKEA again.

“Wait. Hey!” He says as he calls after you. Turning to look at him, your face twists into an upset, embarrassed look.

“You don’t have to apologise for having a bad day or having a cry, it’s alright.” The man says as he approaches you again when you’re already at your cart.

As he speaks, you notice there’s no pity in his tone, or some sort of cringe-riddled sentiment of awkwardness that comes to normal people when a stranger suddenly overshares. He’s just… kind.

Your face softens a bit more and you quickly turn to look away. Instead, your eyes find the stupid box with the shelf you want, still on the industrial shelves, and you start crying more.

“I just want that bloody shelf and it’s… it’s too heavy and I can’t get it into the cart and- I can’t believe I’m crying over this!” You complain and gesture vaguely to the space in front of you as you find yourself sniffling.

“Alright. Hey, it’s alright.” He assures you and gives you a friendly tap on the back, on your shoulder, over your hoodie. “How about I get it for you?” He asks.

You find yourself looking up at him. “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not at all!” He says with a friendly smile and a nod. “I’m plenty strong and I’m already here! Plus, imagine me walking away now after offering?” He jokes.

You can’t help the chuckle the escapes you amidst your broken sobs. “Would’ve been proper rude.”

“Of course it would. And my mum raised me right.” He adds playfully, causing another chuckle to rise out of you. “That’s the smile I wanted.” He cheers.

John moves forward and crouches, helping to slide the heavy box off the shelf with a mighty grip of his big hands, sliding it onto the bottom of the metal cart with the rest of your shopping. “There it is.”

“Thank you…” You murmur as you seek for tissues in your pockets, grabbing one to dab away your tears.

“It’s alright.” He assures you again. “And, for the record, there’s no shame in crying. If you would’ve asked me 3 days ago what I was doing, I’d tell you I was having a good sob in my car after going to the supermarket because I was so tired and overwhelmed.” He admits and chuckles.

“You?” You ask, not quite sure if he was being sincere.

“Oh, yeah. I cry all the time, me.” He tells you and winks one of those blue eyes at you, making you chuckle again.

“Well, thank you, erm…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know his name.

“John.” He says while reaching a hand forward for you to shake. You return the introduction with your own name.

“You think you’ve got this? Or are you gonna need help getting it into the car?” He gestures at your entire cart.

“Oh, shite, you’re right… Need to get this into the car…” You groan and facepalm yourself.

“Tell you what-” John says as he looks at you. “You wait for me while I get the rest of my things-” He takes a list of paper with scribbled reference numbers on it from his pocket. “And we’ll go through checkout together, and I’ll help load this up into your car?”

His offer is so sweet and sincere and kind, you find your eyes clouding with tears again. Then, you nod eagerly and dab away the tears with your crumpled up tissue again.

[ O, Captain! Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚#ocaptainchallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod fandom #captain price #captain john price x reader #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #price

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gojolvs · 1 year

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I still want you.

Chapter 5

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasn’t an easy task. You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader, baby daddy gojou.

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message, also excuse my writing their might be some typos I didn’t edit :(.

5k words

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Within a short period of time, three days had passed. You asked your mother in advance if she would be able to take care of Sumire for a few weeks, after which she would fly with him to Hawaii on the day of the wedding. "I want you to be good to your grandmother, okay?" Scratching his head, you bent down to give him a hug. When you embraced him tightly and kissed his forehead, you couldn't help but frown. Although your son was going with your mother, you were still concerned that something would go wrong. "Listen to your grandmother and do not cause any problems for her." Satoru kissed his forehead and smiled before going over to you.

You had a long conversation, agreeing that a divorce was in your best interest despite your efforts to salvage your relationship. After discussing the cheating for hours, you finally agreed not to bring it up until the divorce papers have been finalized. It also meant that you had to forcefully act normal around your family members and everyone else, but once you were alone, you would stop acting normal. As a result of respecting one another's boundaries, you requested that Satoru no longer sleep in the same bed as you, see you change, or kiss you.

It was difficult to behave normally with your husband next to your mother after he cheated on you. The key was to maintain a cordial demeanor while preventing your emotions from showing. You kept your conversations with him brief and focused on neutral topics. Also, you frequently excused yourself from the room when your emotions became out of control.

Despite the fact that this was a difficult decision, you both knew it was the right one for each other. You recalled yesterday that you no longer had any feelings for each other after Satoru asked you and your sister if his mistress could attend the wedding. Your sister was talking about how she needed one more person but you couldn't come up with anyone. Although you had already contacted Shoko and Utahime, you still lacked one person. In disbelief of what he had done, you stormed off, anger coursing through your veins. Satoru had no effect on you after that discussion. As a result, you had completely forfeited your chance to be Satoru's love of his life again. At that point you didn't care if she came or not you just wanted to get this over with.

"Bye mom!" You kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye to Sumire as he perked up at the window, seeing his white hairs twirling in the wind. You were silent throughout the entire ride to the airport, so silent that you were occasionally able to hear each other breathe. Having nothing to do, you grabbed your phone and clicked on the message you just received.

Toji Zen'in; Did you know that I was invited to be one of your sister's groomsmen? I also hope you are doing well.

As you read his text, you couldn't help but smile, and biting your lip, you felt a sense of comfort. Satoru kept his eyes glued to the road, not even glancing at your phone to see who you were texting or checking on your status.

Y/n; Thats great! I am looking forward to seeing you there :) Also, I am doing well at the moment.

When Toji replied, you purposely turned on the ringer to see if Satoru would be curious enough to see who you were speaking with. To your demise he actually was. In a quick glance at your phone, you could see him bite his tongue in an attempt to not speak. After all who cares if your texting another man it's not like he didn't do anything worse. Occasionally you would let out a small laugh in response to Toji's response. Satoru gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. Observing him, you could see that his eyebrows were furrowed and that he had his jaw tightened up.

Toji Zen’in; I'm also bringing Megumi with me so we can finally have that "playdate" you wanted.

A second giggle escaped your lips, but despite the fact that Gojos veins were almost bursting at the seams, you were unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Stop doing that." You looked up at him, puzzled, and crossed your arms, as you stared at him in a state of confusion.

"Do what?" Counting the seconds until he responded, you licked your lips in preparation for what was to come. You couldn't help but scoff at his face when he acted like this. Why couldn't he abandon your feelings and go talk to his mistress? "Stop- you know what, nevermind." As he saw his breathing getting heavier and his composure slipping, you couldn't help but smile. Seeing you texting another man broke the heart of Gojo a bit. He didn't even understand why he was acting in such a way or why he was acting that way. As hard as he tried, he tried to come across as if he did not care, but at the same time, he did care.

"When we arrive don't expect me to act nice to her. In fact, you shouldn't even expect me to speak to her at all, since I won't." Scroozing, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your lips in despair. As for the person Satoru brought along on this stupid fucking trip, you didn't give a damn about who he brought with him, but who was he to think you would even glance at the person who cheated on you with Satoru? "She has a name y'know." You laughed at his response.

"I don't care." As you gazed at him, he flickered his angry eyes at you, obviously breaking eye contact first with you when he caught your gaze. "As a matter of fact, her name is Jiyuu, just in case you need it." When you turned back to look at him, your eyes widened and you stared at him for a moment before deciding to turn away from him.

Emerging from the car, you couldn't help but notice that your friends were waiting for you two. "Shoko! Utahime!" you shouted, sprinting toward them and hugging them in embrace. You couldn't help but smile back at them when you saw their happy smiles.

He smiled. "Hmm, of course the two lovers are a little late." He walked behind you, hugging you tight and sticking his tongue out at Shoko as he walked past. As you let out a small giggle, you slapped his hand, giving him a slight grin. "Oh no, you know how kids are. I had to drop Sumire off at my mom's house and he was crying so I couldn't leave him like that." Utahime smiled as she grabbed Shoko by the arm and gently rested her head on her shoulders.

"Because we don’t have any children apart from you, we are unfamiliar with the nature of children." With a small laugh, you slapped Suguru on the back. Satoru couldn't help but stare as you laughed with your old highschool buddies. As soon as you saw Utahime and Shoko, he noticed that your mood had completely changed. Your eyes shone when they hugged you, and your lips tightened when you smiled at them.

"Where is Mei Mei?" As you tilted your head slightly, you observed some random person's hands blocking your view. Asserting her identity, you smiled. "Boo." As you turned around, you gave her a big hug. In a sense, Mei Mei was like an older sister to you.

As you grasped his hand, you tightened your grip on it.

Smiling, you placed your head on his shoulder. "Wait, we're missing Jiyuu," Your sister called out as she searched for the specific person you could not stand. As a taxi pulled up and she came out, you couldn't help but gasp. Her eyes lit up when Satoru saw her, and his eyes flickered to her before he looked down and realized he had made a serious error. Seeing your mood quickly change, he realized that he had made a mistake in bringing her along. As a result, you felt heavy and your emotions were scattered all over the place. Taking a deep breath, you fake smiled in front of Satoru before moving towards Shoko who was waiting patiently inside. "I'll let you two talk." you said.

"Hey!" Your heart ached as you heard her voice

Satoru remained silent as he waited for her to accompany him inside. Utahime and Shoko were the only two people who knew that there were three people involved in this marriage. Despite telling Shoko the day you discovered Gojo had cheated on you, Utahime was staying over that night and overheard everything that happened. She promised you not to tell anyone about Satoru's affair. Being the good friend she is she made sure to keep that promise.

"Are you all right?" She whispered, seeing your lips pursed, already sensing your distress. A pure act of betrayal. After reaching the airport and checking in, you were horrified to discover that you would have to sit next to Satoru during the entire flight. Immediately, Utahime and Shoko realized what was happening, looking at you with desperation. "I am sorry Satoru, but she will not be able to sit with you. I am taking your wife with me. I was wondering if you would mind swapping with her, Mei Mei?" You could feel Mei's disgust in her eyes and sighed softly.

"In that case, I will do it. You will not regret trading with me, Y/n. I know I won't regret it." When she realized that she would finally be able to sit with her lover, Jiyuu's mood had perked up. Shoko grabbed her hand as Utahimes looked on. "Wait a minute-" Her eyes widened as she realized Jiyuu would be sitting all by herself with Satoru."Okay thank you." You didn't even make eye contact with her. In your eyes, Satoru could see the betrayal flowing from your heart. "Let's go, we don't want to be late."

As you entered the airplane, you noticed a familiar face. "Toji?" After everything you had experienced, you were immediately perked up upon seeing the only male you were able to stand. Upon seeing you, he turned his head in your direction. When you saw his gentle smile, you felt a strange sensation in your heart. "Hey, where you sitting?" Pointing to where you were going to sit he couldn't help but put his hand on your shoulder. "Guess we're airplane buddies." Eyes stared at the back of your head as you spoke. Not caring if it was Jiyuu or Satoru you continued to walk to your seat. Feeling pure relief that you weren't going to sit with Satoru. Your eyes lit up upon seeing your favorite person for the first time. While carrying megumi, Toji woke him up so that he could say hello to you.

"How are you gumi?" In spite of your best efforts, you couldn't help but plant a small kiss on the child's head as you scrunched up your nose. With a gentle smile on your face, you ruffled his hair while stroking his head. The moment you finally sat down, you couldn't help but notice the laughter erupting behind you, as you took a quick glance behind you, you spotted your sister, Gojo, and Jiyuu laughing together. All of them seemed to be getting along well with each other. When you took a deep breath you turned to look at Toji, looking at his look of apologetic you knew exactly what he meant.

With Megumi sitting in the middle of you and Toji, talking about his fear of airplanes, you couldn't help but hold his tiny hand and interlock your fingers together. In preparation for takeoff, Megumi closed her small eyes. "Im scared." As Toji ruffled his hair, he comforted him, "Don't worry about it, okay? I'm here with you, as well as Y/N."

The plane took off before you knew it, with Megumi wiping away a couple of tears in the process. Carefully squeezing his cheek, you propped him up in your lap and caressed him gently. If you get into trouble, who cares? Your heart broke when you saw a child in distress, especially one so young as Sumire. His tiny hands encircled the waist of your body as Megumi cradled your stomach. Each time you caressed his hair, you pecked him on the top of his head with a small kiss. You were even more heartbroken after hearing Megumi call you mommy. "Mommy are we done yet?" Your eyes welled up with tears.

“You should go to sleep now, gumi." Hugging him closer you asked Toji to pass you a small blanket you had brought for yourself. Having gotten up, Toji opened the airplane compartment and handed you the beautiful blue blanket with cats on it. "Thank you." you replied, smiling back as you leaned your head against Tojis shoulder, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The sight of you and Toji broke Satoru's heart. "And then that happened, can you believe it Toru?" He turned his head towards Jiyuu and sighed. The nickname Toru was something you both came up with during your high school years. Continuing to watch you play with Megumi, he nodded his head. It warmed his heart to see you happy and not unhappy, as opposed to when you were with him. "Toru?" He totally missed Jiyuu's presence, since he was too busy staring at you while you were talking to Toji.

"Yes?" Looking at Jiyuu she was filled with disappointment, realizing he didn't even give her a second glance. Secretly, they were holding hands together since thanks to an unknown person next to Jiyuu they didn't have to worry about getting caught. She rubbed her eyes with her spare hand before placing her head on his shoulder. He couldn't help but stare at her. Watching how her eyes twitched when she got cold. Exactly as they used to when he slept over at your house. A smile spread across Satoru's face as he snuggled deeper.

"Yes gumi, go sleep honey." Noting the sparkle in your eyes while watching megumi cuddle closer to you, he could not help but scoff. As if he cared.

He had his so-called love of his life sitting beside him, so why would he care that you exchanged your seat just to not sit next to him. Upon seeing you so close to him, he began to doubt your credibility. His first thought was, "Did she have an affair with him?"." No, of course not, it was inevitable that anyone would fall in love with your ridiculous humor.

Though he tried to reassure himself that he felt nothing towards you, deep down he knew that he still loved you. Seeing you fall so quickly asleep with Megumi in your arms he couldn't help but feel a slight pain in his chest. When he arrived home some nights, he would see you and Sumire snuggled on the couch with the exact same blanket, or when Sumire would get up super early to jump on top of you and her during The Weeknd, and after that she would cuddle with him, bragging about Sumire being a better cuddler than him because Sumire allowed her to big spoon him.

But now that meant absolutely nothing to him, he had fell out of love so long ago. He considered meeting Jiyuu to be a blessing. Seeing her for the first time at that stupid party you were supposed to accompany him to. He initially thought it would be a one-night stand, but after seeing her multiple times, he fell in love with her. He still remembers the small quickie they had in the restroom before heading out acting like nothing happened. He knew things were going to end soon when he started missing important stuff just to meet up with his mistress at your beach house. The two of them drove three hours to your house just to spend the entire week together. During that week, he realized that he was in love with her. Seeing her run towards the beach he knew he felt it with her.

On that day, he told her everything, including that he was married and had a three-year-old child. At first Jiyuu felt betrayed telling Gojo to screw himself. To keep her, Satoru lied to her face and said that you had fallen out of love and were seeing someone else. He had told Jiyuu that things were officially done with you two.

That was a year ago.

Before you learned about his affair with Jiyuu, he had been seeing her for a full year and a half. He tried to end it with you multiple times but he couldn't find the strength to do it. He knew he couldn't do it when he saw your sleeping figure. Satoru didn't anticipate you finding out that weekend. He couldn't resist the urge to go see her after not seeing her for almost 3 weeks. The other women.

His eyes never left your sight. "Toru.." She tilted her head as she tried to catch his blank stare. Satoru snapped out of his thoughts, breathing in as he looked at his lovers face. "I'm cold," he sighed, taking off his sweater and giving it to Jiyuu, smiling she gave him a small peck on the lips before anyone noticed. Resting his head on top of hers he felt relieved.

After being jolted awake by the sudden turbulence, you sat up suddenly. You were struggling to breathe and staggered. Remembering that Megumi was asleep soundly, you cuddled closer to him. His eyes were glued shut seeing his long eyelashes you could tell he got it from his mother and not Toji. In your peripheral vision, you could see Toji sleeping soundly, he had moved to the center seat and placed his arm around your waist. A random person on the plane would've assumed that you two had a beautiful son and that you were a happy couple. Suddenly, your curiosity got the best of you and you glanced behind you. You can feel your heart breaking as soon as you see the scenery. They both fell asleep after Gojo gave Jiyuu his sweater. Observing how his eyebrow twitched and how his hair was messy, you could see Satoru breathe in and out.

Looking back forward you let a shaky and small whisper, 'at least he's happy.'

“Approximately 30 minutes from our destination, we will hand out snacks soon." The speaker woke up Megumi and Toji, both looking at you.

"Here, I'll take him from you." Grasping megumi Toji, he sat him down on his lap. In a spectacular display of strength, he wrapped his muscular arms around the sleepy 3 year old who had been complaining of hunger. "Thanks." Unbuckling the seat, you were relieved to see the bathroom was empty. You let go of Tojis' grip on your waist as you stood up. "If the lady comes, can she get me a sandwich?" You asked. With a nod, he agreed to buy you lunch.

Upon getting up, most passengers appeared to be fast asleep. While using the plane's bathroom, you noticed that the first class restroom was much different from the regular one. Thanks to your sister's husband, all of your first class tickets were purchased. A sudden feeling of nauseous hit you as you rubbed your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Before you knew it you threw up. Walking to the sink you washed your mouth grabbing the small mouth wash in the counter you made sure to wash your mouth 10x.

The nausea must've gotten you pretty bad. Exiting the restroom you were met with a familiar face. "Oh sorry," passing by her she grabbed your shoulder. Jiyuu had beautiful brown long hair. Her hair was tied up in a clip and her makeup was smudged a bit. "Please don't touch me." Refusing to make eye contact with her she scoffed . What the hell? Why was she so disturbed that you didn't let her touch you.

Rolling your eyes you sat down next to Toji, handing you the sandwhich you took a big bite. "Here have some." Giving a bite to the small child he bite it chewing with a big smile. You knew it must be hard for Megumi to grow up without a mother. He reminded you so much of Sumire you couldn't help but think maybe you could be a sort of mother figure towards megumi. "Don't chew with your mouth open." Grabbing a napkin Toji cleaned Megumis cheek. He had mayonnaise plastered all over his face. His cute green eyes looked up to you, giggling you ruffled his hair.

"No! I want mama!" crying megumi reached towards you. His small chubby hands trying to grasp your hair. He started whining smacking his dad for not letting him go with you. "C'mere its only 30 min until we land" Megumi started making a ruckus, wanting to be in your grasp and not Tojis he started kicking his legs hitting Toji. "Fine, you want Y/n? Don't be complaining when I don't carry you later." Rolling his eyes he handed Megumi to you. Seeing his pink tinted cheeks and watery eyes you smiled pinching his cheeks.

Before you knew it the plane was already landing, Megumi fast asleep on your arms you asked Toji if he could take out your small purse. Despite Megumi looking small he was quite heavy. Not minding his weight you told Toji you would carry him until you exited the airport. Standing up you rejusted megumi, his small arms wrapping around your neck. Burying his face on your neck you couldn't help but smile at him. Toji was admiring the scenery wondering if Megumi would be like this if his wife was still alive. Megumi hadn't been this clingy with anyone, always wanting to be with dad and no one else but I guess you must've won the little man's heart because he didn't let go at all.

"So cute!" Utahime smiled at you, grabbing Shoko to see the sleeping child in your arms. Satoru came behind you helping you with your luggage you quickly told him that you didn't need his help. "It's okay, Toji’s helping me." Satoru licked his teeth shaking his head he walked away, stuffing his hands in his pants. You could see his tall figure walk towards Suguru and Jiyuu, wrapping his long arm on Suguru shoulder.

"You need help with him?" Toji tilted his head pointing on the small child who was quietly snoring. Shaking your head no Toji placed his muscular arm on your waist helping you down the plane. Seeing megumi this clingy you already started missing your own son. Hoping everything was okay back at your moms house. "We only have 3 cars so please try your best to like where im assigning you all.” Your sister began naming who was going with who.

"Okay! Jiyuu your with me and my husband, Shoko and Utahime as well." Her eyes were filled with disappointment hoping she could sit with her lover. Unfortunately for her it wasn't going to work. "Toji, Y/N, and Satoru you're going with my husband sister and you can take megumi with you." The rest was a blur for you. Sitting with Satoru was already painful for you. At least you could sit with Toji and Megumi.

Entering the car you let Toji in first, "Here take Megumi, and careful with his head okay?" Laughing you could hear Tojis deep voice his muscular chest moving. "It's not my first time sitting down in the car with my kid.” Sticking your tongue out you rolled your eyes. Sitting down next to you was Satoru. Basically you were stuck in the middle with Toji and Satoru. Grabbing the small child out of Tojis grasp you put him to sit on your lap. Playing with him he couldn't help but notice the white haired man staring at you.

"Hi, im Megumi," Smiling the little child tiled his head. Satoru stared at the smile child seeing how Megumi admired your face.

"Im Satoru Gojo, your "mommy's" husband." Looking at him when he called you mommy you scoot closer to Toji. What the fuck?

"No my daddy is with mommy." Looking at Satoru he furrowed his eyebrows, randomly hugging you. You could see that Gojo had clenched his jaw when the small toddler had said that. Scoffing gojo put his hand on megumi ruffling his tiny black hair. "No." Megumi shook his head reaching towards his dad. Toji couldn't help but laugh at the embarrassing scene going on.

Pursing your lips, you tried your best not to laugh at the white-haired man in front of you. You could tell Megumi didn't like Gojo already. When Toji viewed how Gojo was getting irritated with the small child, he smiled as he thought about his small idea. Taking hold of your hand and interlocking the fingers of his hand with yours, Toji grabbed it. “Guess your my wife now, huh?” Looking at her with a smirk on his face, Toji leaned closer to you, so close that your face turned red. In an effort to clear your head, you pursed your lips in an effort to keep your thoughts straight. The tension in Gojo's veins was so intense that he could feel it bursting. Having clenched his fist, Satoru was so close to hitting the muscular man who was clearly flirting with you in order to get an edge over him that he was on the verge of hitting him. With his face even closer to yours, your faces were inches away from one another, he looked down at your lips, giving you a small wink as he looked at you. "I'm sorry you had something,” With a smile on his face he turned back to the small child in his arms and hugged him again.

Leaving you doumbfounded you glanced at Satoru to see what his reaction was like. Satoru's gaze was intense as he watched Toji toy with you you. His eyes seemed to be burning with a mixture of anger and jealousy as the man leaned in to whisper something in your ear. Satoru's fists clenched as he watched the man's hand brush against your arm. He seemed to be struggling to keep his composure as he saw you smile back at the man.

“Thanks,” looking away you tried your best to hide your flushed face. Satoru knew that Toji was doing this as punishment towards you. “We’re here.” As you stepped out of the car to see the luxurious Hotel, you couldn’t help but gasp in amazement. It was absolutely huge, not knowing how many rooms it had you were curious. Seeing your sister walk out of her Tesla she waved at you. “Hey! Watchu think?” This was one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen in your life.

“Since it's getting pretty late, I think it will be a good idea if we go rest and the next day we can go to the beach," Holding her fiancé's hand, she smiled waving goodbye to everyone before handing them the key to their hotel room. The truth is that you didn't want to sleep with Satoru at all. Since he had his mistress room, you prayed that he would stay there all night or maybe even the whole week if he had one. Thank god, he actually answered your prayers. There was a sigh of relief as everyone made their way to their rooms. Seeing Satoru follow Jiyuu, one couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as well. Entering the hotel room it was huge. It was so spacious that it even had a balcony, and although there was only one bed in it, you were grateful that you had it all to yourself. As you were already undressing yourself, you couldn't help but let your thoughts wander. Thinking about how Satoru actually chose to go with Jiyuu and not stay with you. Although you knew it was over, you could not accept the fact that the man you once loved was gone. After undressing yourself, you put on some shorts and a large sweater. Hearing someone knock at your door as you were about to lie on the bed, you quickly fled to the door. As you opened it slightly, you were relieved to see a familiar face inside.

"Hey, this little guy wants to sleep with you.." Rubbing his neck, Toji couldn't help but grin, seeing your face light up made him happy. Megumi was already reaching towards you, his chubby hands trying to grasp you. Nodding, you allowed Toji into the hotel room. Not knowing where he was going to stay, he decided to sleep on the couch while you shared a bed with Megumi.

Upon closing the door, Toji couldn't help but lick his lips. He had already figured out someone was watching him, but seeing him walk into your hotel room made him smirk a little. As a result, he knew the white haired man would become absolutely feral if Toji answered the hotel room rather than you

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