1am thoughts, thinking about Gojo introducing kid Megumi to his newborn baby and Megumi being protective of them and even calling them his little sister/brother at one point and gojo is running LAPS he's just overwhelmed and happy over a small yet powerful phrase.
to protect — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: this is so cute i am gonna cry also megumi is like 11-12 here
you’re finally back home, after a long day at the hospital. you’re finally engulfed in the comfort of your bed while your husband is still sat up with his little girl bundled in his arms.
he hasn’t let go of her since you have been discharged.
“’toru, honey, you have to sleep soon; you can hold her tomorrow,” you sleepily murmur to your husband.
he nods and whispers, “I know. It’s just I—I can’t believe it’s real,” he kisses her forehead softly, “that she is finally here, our little princess.”
a tired smile makes its way to your lips. you hum in understanding, gently caressing his cheek. he sighs happily, before looking at you, “but you, missy, actually need to rest. you’ve had a long day.”
you frown and he chuckles, and his hand moves to stroke your hair, “rest, pretty. you were a champion today,” you move to nuzzle closer to his side and your arm wraps around his torso.
and so his little girl is comfortably nestled in one of his arms, while the other is wrapped around you so his hand can pet your head lovingly.
satoru truly feels like he is holding the world in his hands right now.
suddenly, the door slowly creaks open and a very familiar face peaks from it. satoru chuckles, “come in, megumi; they’re both asleep anyway.”
the boy carefully pads his way to gojo.
he is so used to seeing him being all goofy and unserious, so it catches him a bit off-guard how serene and quiet he is being right now. megumi looks at the sleeping baby then whispers, “what’s her name?”
“d/n,” satoru answers fondly.
megumi nods then observes her for a small while, “she really is a perfect mix between the both of you.”
a soft and quiet laugh escapes satoru’s lips, “you’re right,” he looks up at megumi with a grin, “you wanna hold her?”
the boy is taken back and his expression betrays him as nervousness takes over his face. his eyes don’t leave the girl and his gaze is more than troubled, “…what if I hurt her?”
satoru shakes his head, “you scared? she is my daughter; she is the strongest baby ever,” he grins, “no one can hurt her.”
megumi rolls his eyes, but quickly directs his focus to the little girl. he takes a moment, before he extends his arms. satoru gently places her in his arms. megumi’s hold on her is protective, and he doesn’t look as awkward as satoru thought he would.
actually, he is quite the natural.
he gently rocks her, and he can’t help but smile at her sleeping face. megumi whispers to her, “hi there.”
she coos at him, and starts swaying his arms around. she slowly opens her eyes, and a tiny smile appears on her chubby face. megumi’s eyes widen a little, and he immediately looks at gojo, “she is smiling.”
satoru laughs, “she is a very smiley baby, but i think she likes you a lot. she only smiled at y/n and me,” he feels you stir a bit in your sleep.
he pulls you closer and rubs your shoulder then he giggles at how quickly you fall back asleep. while satoru is occupied by you, megumi is staring in awe at little miss gojo.
later, satoru wakes up in the middle of the night to check on his little girl in the adjacent room. he groggily gets up, after kissing your forehead. he walks there, and when he finally reaches the room, he notices the lights are already on, and the door is left a bit open.
he peaks a little into the room, and sees megumi standing by the crib. he is fondly looking at d/n, and gently petting her head. he is whispering something to her, but satoru is still able to hear it all the same.
“don’t grow up to be annoying like your dad, please.”
satoru scowls, and contemplates bursting into the room, and bullying the hell out of megumi. however, he ultimately decides against it. he doesn’t end up regretting the decision.
megumi gently boops her nose, “you’re like a little sister to me now, so I promise to protect you.”
she squeals and makes grabby hands at him, and he chuckles, “you believe me, huh?”
satoru slowly backs away from the door and walks away. when he is a safe distance from the door, he starts running and bursts into your shared room.
he dramatically falls to the ground, “that was… the cutest thing ever! after d/n and y/n’s smiles, of course.”
he stands up, proudly. his heart is at ease as he now knows that there is yet another person to look after his baby girl, if something happens. a content grin is on his face as he enjoys the silence and comfort. it’s short lived, as always.
a pillow is thrown at his face, and he stumbles to the ground.
“that’s for waking me up, satoru!”
“noooo, baby, I am sorry!”
“uh—,” megumi awkwardly stands at the door, holding d/n up, “guys, she pooped.”
satoru grins, and excitedly stands up—with a camera that he got out of nowhere to take photos of her—he coos, “aww! your first shit, pretty girl? what a good girl!”
megumi places her on the changing table beside your bed. the smell of her great ‘achievement’ fills the door, and he takes the chance of gojo being distracted to run out of the room, before another nuclear explosion drops.
the girl is gleefully clapping upon seeing her dad, and he reciprocates the smile tenfold. he gently holds her feet and sways them slightly, “such a big girl, already pooping!”
“want daddy to change your diapers for you?” he coos and the girl just puts her thumb in her mouth and starts kicking her feet. he chuckles and slowly opens the diaper. he is met with the vilest smell, and he can’t believe his sweet daughter can produce such smells.
however, he quickly composes himself, and tries to make his way through the travail of changing the diaper. he proves to be too weak because he, after a moment, looks at you, “uh, babe, teamwork makes the dream work?”
you groan, falling back to the bed.
taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar
copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
9K notes
·
View notes
Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot
Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)
Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.
Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation
WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly
You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes.
The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork.
Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make.
“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”
You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”
“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.
Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”
You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention.
Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.
But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.
Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.
He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.
“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”
“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.
He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”
“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”
“Honey, we can’t have--”
“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”
His hands squeeze again. “I see.”
You frown. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”
You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.
“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”
You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.
“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.
“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom.
Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.
You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.
“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.
You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”
He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.
“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.
“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”
“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”
“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”
“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”
You can’t help it; you laugh.
He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.
“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say.
“You’re insatiable.”
“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.
You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor.
You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.
Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.
“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.
“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”
“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.
“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”
That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break.
The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you.
You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.
“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.
You nod. “Green. You?”
He smirks. “Absolutely.”
He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.
“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.
He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”
“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”
“Don’t push it.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.
There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.
So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs.
You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting.
You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.
The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.
Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex.
He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.
He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be.
All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours.
It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.
He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.
He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.
“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.
You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.
“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.
You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”
He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”
“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”
He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.
The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.
“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”
His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.
It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak.
You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you.
Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you.
You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.
Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven.
Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm.
He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”
“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.
“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.
It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside.
He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.
It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”
You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”
“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.
You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.
He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out.
He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you.
Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist.
“You need to rest,” he chides softly.
“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”
“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”
“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”
He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”
That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”
“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”
You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”
He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”
“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”
“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”
You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.
2K notes
·
View notes
I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.
Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.
He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.
Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.
Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.
And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.
It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.
He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.
When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.
And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.
He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.
And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.
Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.
After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.
Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?
It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.
He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.
this was my inspo for this simon
@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.
7K notes
·
View notes