#we both have biceps | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 28 days

Text

You'll Taste Me Too! - G.S.

Synopsis. How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, office AU, enemies to lovers, jealousy (Gojo’s side), FAKE DATING, PAST Naoya x reader, creampíes, breéding, oraI (fem receiving), spítting, hot springs, cúmplay, DOWN BAD Satoru, tensíon, he’s a bit mean, revenge on your ex, ambiguous office work, exhíbitionísm, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 11.9k (this was supposed to be HALF that)

A/N. This type of annoying Gojo is always so fun to write, hope y’all have a great week <3

In all your three years as head of the marketing department, it wasn’t any of the tight deadlines or the nervous interns that drove you crazy. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that the coffee maker in the break room only made tea.

No, the one thing you couldn’t stand - the one thing that had you contemplating whether your transfer was really worth it - came in the form of the 6’3, cloudy-haired manchild who headed the sales department.

The one person who’d made it his personal mission to toy with your sanity as soon as you’d stepped foot into the cleancut office of Jujutsu Enterprises.

The bane of your existence.

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Huh?” you gape stupidly, and if this was any other time you’d have smacked yourself for the unprofessionalism.

Yaga nods gravely - almost sympathetic - as if he honestly couldn’t fault you for your reaction. “Yes, since this upcoming contract relies heavily on collaboration between the marketing and sales departments, Satoru here-” He nods at the tangle of long limbs that’d been draped dramatically over the seat right next to you. “-will be accompanying you on your trip to Kyoto…unfortunately.”

“What do you mean ‘accompanying’-”

“The fuck do you mean ‘unfortunately’-”

Your supervisor heaves out a tired sigh over your flurry of protests, rubbing his temples, “Look, I wouldn’t have picked out your ah- duo either. But as heads of department, you two are the best and brightest we have. And the board believes we can snag the infamous Gakuganji and his protegé easily as clients with the combination of you both.”

“But-” you sputter out. “Can’t I go with Nanami like I usually do? Surely he’s a better option than a pompous, no-good nepo-”

“And I’d rather go alone.” Gojo cuts through smoothly, flashing a cocky wink your way. “Sorry, sweetheart, but even my charm won’t be enough to stop you from scaring that client off.”

Fuck unprofessionalism. If looks could kill, the leveled glare you shoot the man at your side is enough to bury him six feet and have you dancing on his grave already.

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Now fully facing Gojo for the first time since you’d first entered Yaga’s stuffy office, “Oh yeah, and aren’t you the one that got reprimanded for sleeping through the last company meeting we had?”

“D-did not.” his cheeks tinge with a delicate strawberry pink.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” you scoff, brows furrowing when you realize you’ve inched just a bit closer than appropriate. Your knees knocking against his, yet you don’t pull away out of stubborness. “What? Too embarrassed to admit your oh-so-great ‘charm’ was in the pillows?”

Almost mockingly, he’s copying your posture, tight white shirt straining over those biceps he didn’t hesitate to infuriatingly flex any time you came around. Minty breath wafting over your cheeks when he leans in to murmur lowly - just loud enough that Yaga won’t question, “No, but you would be happy to know that it is in the sheets.”

You blink, though, you can’t really be too surprised - of course, Gojo turns the conversation into something so filthy. He always does.

But before you can spit out a few venomous expletives you really would regret saying in front of Yaga, the man himself interrupts your argument with a pointed cough. “Since the chemistry is as lively as ever,” he’s deadpanning dryly. “I take it you both will be on your best behavior for these three days, and come back with a signed contract.”

Chemistry your ass.

And though he’s addressing you both, you feel a stab of smug satisfaction when Yaga’s gaze lock with an amused Gojo’s.

“Mhm, of course we’ll come back successful - how could you not with the star employee on this trip.” he motions airily in your direction. You stiffen, not expecting the compliment when- “And of course our cute resident hardass will be there, too.”

“You little fu-”

“Great!” Yaga claps his hands, a signal you knew meant to get the hell out of his office before he assigns more overtime. “It’s settled then, your tickets have been booked for tomorrow and I assume you both have been emailed the appropriate information?”

Nodding, you make your way to leave - and find that Gojo is waiting, glass door to the office held open for you. With a sharp click of your tongue, you bite down on whatever words come to your throat, barely out of the office before you hear a tired warning behind you, “And please don’t try to kill each other, our insurance doesn’t cover it.”

When you’re both out in the hallway, Gojo flashes you a cocky smirk and an even cockier “You heard the man.” Pointing at his unfairly pretty features - not that you’d admit that in a million years. “After all, my face is insured but who’d want to hurt this handsome-”

“I could.” You interrupt, rolling your eyes. “Easily. And I would, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that this job pays well.” Something you say every time he prances around in your department during breaks, bragging about how you’re “all bark but no bite.”

Satoru only chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender when you continue, “Let’s just get through these three days, ace the contract, and never speak of this again. Okay?”

To your surprise, he’s grabbing one of your hands with his much larger ones - soft, you gulp, noting involuntarily. “I like what goes on in that pretty lil’ brain of yours, silly girl. Then, let’s charm the asses off that dumbass client and the board of elders~”

Everyone in the office knew of the strange little dynamic between you two - found it to be the utmost entertainment they got in the workday. But you were damned if you let it mess up this contract.

If you two survived the entire three days, that is.

---

You two were not surviving the entire three days - or the contract deal, for that matter. Hell, you couldn’t even survive this first day.

“Gojo I told you.” you squint at the glossy paper. “It says platform eight. I know you can’t see without those ugly sunglasses of yours but-”

A big arm comes up suddenly behind your shoulders, snatching the train ticket clean out of your hands. Gojo lets it rest there as he exclaims, “Let me see. Now, y’know if this was me, I’d have chosen Gran class. Ichiji in finances really skimped out buying these second class seats, gonna hafta have a word with him when we get back…”

You narrow your eyes, frantically trying to push back that strange part of you that almost wanted to lean in closer to the hit of his piney, expensive cologne. “Have fun bullying him, you leech.”

To which he only responds with a syrupy giggle, “Oh, don’t worry.” And you let out a tiny gasp when he flicks your forehead softly. “You’ll be right there in first class with me. Even with that bratty attitude of yours, the ladies love those Gojo perks.”

“Mhm explains why you’ve been single for all three years I've had the misfortune of knowing you.” you hiss, eyes desperately darting about for directions to platform eight. You were going to get on this train - with or without him. Preferably without him.

So absorbed in your mission that if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that Gojo’s words were a pitch higher than normal when he retorts with a strangled, “S-so what? Keepin’ an eye on me, sweetheart?”

And you knew the two of you definitely looked like a peculiar sight - Gojo’s dangling off of you like a ragdoll, surrounded by the few comically large suitcases that were mainly his. So much for a three-day work trip. Your face burns at the few weary salary workers that gave the two of you a very wide berth while going about their daily commutes. Fuck, you couldn’t even ask anyone for help at this point if you both looked at like some safety hazard.

“Did you find it?” You huff when the silence lingers a bit too long - jumping when you raise your head up to find his burning stare already inches away from you. “God- I take it back, please keep those glasses on.”

“Hey!”

You’re digging your elbow into his side now, words stumbling over the other in a heated hurry, “And get- get off we’re gonna miss this-”

“It really is you, huh?”

All at once, you’re reminded that strangely it isn’t just the two of you causing ruckus in the middle of the Shinjuku station. Unfortunately.

Any and all previous irritation at Gojo wipes away, flooding back as full, unbridled rage when you’re tearing your eyes away from the nuisance beside you to look up and-

Oh.

Dammit, you knew you’d recognize that grating voice anywhere - and for the first time, it wasn’t Gojo’s.

“Naoya.”

“You.”

Still didn’t even have the decency to address you properly, huh? You bite your lower lip, unaware what to say next. But luckily you didn’t have to - because Gojo is standing up straighter, features smoothing into a mask of cool appraisal when he sweeps his eyes down at the other man.

Finally, Naoya seems to notice him. Flickering quickly between the arm still firmly around your shoulder and his darkened stare. “And who are you?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, two-tone.” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you swear you could feel the soft pads of his fingers tightening, digging in through your silky work shirt. “What business do you have with us?”

Us - you didn’t miss the emphasis.

Evidently, Naoya didn’t either, because his tone turns into a low, dangerous simper as he continues. “What? Can’t a man come up just to catch up with a fling?”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he watches you register the word. Fling. Sure, after about a year of dating, the two of you didn’t have the cleanest break up - with the constant fights and him wanting to uproot your life and dream career with his new job transfer. But still.

“Of course, he can.” Gojo raises a snowy brow, buttons on his shirt straining when he puffs his chest out ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but notice that he has much more than a few inches on your ex. Gruffing out, “But not when she’s with her new boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

You freeze the word running around over and over in your hazy mind - boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend-

“And trust me, she’s long forgotten your sorry ass.” You’re jolting back to reality only when you feel the slow, soothing glide of Gojo’s thumb at the exposed skin of your shoulder. He looks down at you with that familiar mirthful smile to say, “Isn’t that right, my girl?”

“Ah uh-” you’re mentally kicking yourself for not choosing to attend those acting lessons in college for extra credit. Coughing out what you hope to be a believable, “Yeah, this is G-Satoru, my- my boyfriend.”

But your coworker takes it all in concerning stride, pulling you flush against his toned chest, rumbling with the muse of “Mhm, and we’re very happy together.” You honestly feel like you’re about to fall weakly to your knees right then and there in the station when you feel the distinct pressure of two soft, plump lips grazing fleetingly at your forehead. Murmuring into your hairline, “Going on a couples’ trip to Kyoto this very moment, in fact.”

“I see.” Naoya levels out, and by the sharp glint in his eyes you already knew the gears on his head were turning. But before you could question him any further, the melodic voice of the railway announcer cuts through the tense air. “Ah- that’s me. And as pleasant as this reunion was, Kurama onsen doesn’t wait.” Before clapping a hand on the shoulder of the uncharacteristically silent Gojo stood by your side, “I wish you the best with your relationship, she’s only good the first few times after all.” His next words are cold and directed at you. “I’ll text ya, if you still don’t have me blocked, that is.”

Saved by the train - and your fist gripping onto Gojo’s button-up, Naoya saunters to climb aboard the train currently entering the nearby platform.

Leaving the both of you in that whirling, unfamiliar silence. Gojo’s arm is still burning around your shoulder, your muscles still aching from stopping him from powerfully lunging after the other man.

You break first.

“Why…why did you do that.” you mutter over the bustling crowds - more to yourself than him, so you’re surprised when he responds just as hastily.

“It’s just- Because he was a dick.” Gojo’s lips form a petulant pout. He decidedly avoids your probing eyes while he plows on, “And I should be the only one allowed to be a dick to you so don’t get it twisted, silly girl.”

You scoff, before your eyes widen at where Noaya was boarding through the doors of the sleek bullet train, “Wait- Gojo-”

“Satoru, think I deserve to be called ‘Satoru’ after that.” he grins irritatingly. “Consider it a payment since it’ll kill ya to say it every time.”

“Yes yes, S-Satoru-” you wave off, but you can’t deny how easily the name rolls off your tongue. And distinctly, you wondered why you called most of your coworkers by first name, but never him before. “He’s going to Kurama onsen.”

Gojo tilts his head, nose scrunching in confusion. “And?”

“We’re going to Kurama onsen.”

---

For all the disaster the first day had wrecked upon your sanity, you were thankful enough that neither of you were sat in the same area as Naoya. Barely even settling into your cushioned seat before putting on your headphones - and a sleeping mask for good measure so you couldn’t be riled up by your coworker again.

Surprisingly he didn’t try either. Only bothering you to share his snacks occasionally, and hog the arm space on your chair, electricity running down your skin every time he brushed up against you.

It was quiet, somehow neither of you minded.

“Hah- are we- woah.” you gasp out after the short walk from the Kyoto station to your destination, an intricate wooden sign coming into view. Lugging your baggage with you - Gojo had insisted he carry it too as a show of strength, but you were sure it’s because he just wanted to give up halfway through and take a taxi instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah yeah I get that a lot.” Gojo comes up behind you without warning, a sultry trickle of sweat trailing down his forehead to the forbidden depths of where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a few times. “But usually it’s ‘gorgeous’ or ‘hot as hell’ or-”

“Oh, shut up.” you breathe, ripping your eyes away and towards the reception. “Get your ass moving now, we’ve gotta get checked in and form a game plan for the meeting.”

“That eager to get me in a bed? Always knew ya had it in you, sweetheart.” Oh, he lets out a shiver at your blazingly dirty look. “I mean- yes, ma’am.”

There aren’t too many visitors, and you choose to do the talking when you walk up to the sweet older lady at the reception, having decided that Gojo has done way too much of that for today. Humming, “Hi there, we’re here for two rooms reserved under the name ‘Yaga’?”

A few taps of her keyboard and she’s flashing you a megawatt smile, “Oh yes, you’re right on time!” Before getting up from her seat, “I’ll be the one escorting the young couple to their honeymoon suite. Just this way-”

And while Gojo breezes past you without a single complaint, you stand frozen in the middle of the cozy wooden room. Reaching out a hand to sputter, “W-wait, surely there must be some mistake? Honeymoon suite?”

Gojo is close enough that he whispers something in her ear, and you already know it doesn’t bode well for you at all.

“Oh honey don’t worry.” she flutters a flustered hand at you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having your dear boyfriend here spend a bit extra on a comfy suite. Either way, it has been booked for a while now and unfortunately nothing can be changed…”

Forgetting yourself, you sneak a glance over at where she had left her desktop on. The tiny letters on screen confirming that yes, this reservation was under the name Yaga. And no, it wasn’t a mistake that the room you were given was a honeymoon suite.

“Get your ass movin’ now.” Gojo’s voice snaps you out of your little reverie, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into laughter while he mocks your earlier words. He grins, “When life gives you lemons- or when Yaga gives you a honeymoon suite…”

---

“Dibs not on the couch.”

“Dibs not on the- wait, no.” Gojo huffs when you’re finally led to your sprawling room, and for all the scandal of it being a honeymoon suite, you have to admit that Yaga had great taste. “Shouldn’t you treat your boyfriend better?”

You’re splaying yourself out on the plush mattress of the bed - the only bed, because of course the universe doesn’t bestow you with a normal work trip. But god none of those cheap motels at the trips you’d gone on with Nanami or Shoko could ever compare to this.

Mindfully, you push away the rose petals decorating the silken sheets. “Not my problem.” Jutting a thumb towards the small private hot spring allocated for your room outside, “Sleep in the onsen. Might wanna hurry though, it’s getting dark.”

“Please?”

“I’m kicking you out of this room altogether.”

“Pretty please.”

You feel a rush of begrudging endearment at the way he’s batting his long lashes at you. Suddenly, you’re wondering whether this is why so many at the office can’t get enough of Gojo - why everyone flocks to him as soon as he waltzes into your department for no apparent reason. Struggling to stand firm. “Hasn’t Nanami told you before that adding ‘pretty’ doesn’t work?”

Grumbling, he sets down the bags, swiftly turning around to call out, “Fine, but m’takin’ a shower first, so you better keep any expensive shampoos away or m’stealing with no regrets.”

Mind dizzy with everything from today, it’s all you can do to shuffle through your bag for your laptop. Trembling fingers deciding that if you weren’t going to think too deeply about this, might as well get some work done.

It’s what you do for a while - to partial success - until you’re pulled out of your spiels of presentations and trying to keep Gojo’s script on subject by the sound of the running water stopping, and the bathroom door clicking open.

And lo and behold - there stood Gojo. Shirtless.

The very same asshole that would throw paper clips at you during meetings, and always finished off the last muffin in the break room he knew you’d been eyeing all day. Here he stood - all sharp hip bones and smooth curves of muscle that were always poorly covered by his work clothes.

Covering almost all of the bathroom doorway with his broad shoulders, speckled with glistening droplets of water that danced tauntingly down, down, down the sharp planes of his collarbones. Down his abs, and onto a trail of white, hidden by a fluffy white towel you have to force your eyes away from.

“Put some- put some clothes on. You- you-” you’re scrambling urgently for something near you, which unfortunately happened to be a soft cotton you’d pulled out from your bag earlier. “-you lecher.”

Wordlessly, Gojo’s stunned surprise breaks into a brilliant grin when he unfolds the canon of cloth you’d thrown his way. Humming, “You call me a lecher, but you’re the one that wants to see me in your clothes, huh?”

And sure enough - it was. It was as if the universe was playing a practical joke on you because it was your favorite t-shirt, in fact, that ragged Bleach graphic held gently between Gojo’s long, pale fingers.

You choke out, hastily getting off the bed. “Wait- I take it back.”

“I don’t know.” Gojo teases, holding the t-shirt well over your head. And all you can do is frantically reach and swerve for it, each attempt dodged with a shit-eating grin. “You get the bed, I get this ratty t-shirt, seems like a fair trade to me, no?”

“No.”

Gojo’s face is hovering so close above yours, though, he still keeps the t-shirt safely away from you. “Then I guess this is f’me, silly girl.”

You groan, appreciating the way his breath catches in his throat when you hook an arm around his neck. Reeling him in so close while you still swipe, “No, but what you are going to get is-”

What Gojo was going to get, he never finds out. Because in your frantic effort to steal back the t-shirt you so desperately didn’t want in the hands of the bastard from sales, you don’t pay attention to that slippery pool of water forming around you two from his half-assed attempts at drying off.

And before you know it, you’re lurching to the floor - you wince, arms held out to break your fall and-

It never happens.

Blinking your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is what seems like miles upon miles of milky, smooth skin. Breathing in such a heady scent, it’s probably what makes your mind so melty when the realization hits you - a little too late - that you’re being held against Gojo’s chest.

His painfully bare chest.

“Satoru?” you breathe. Pawing at where you could feel his racing heartbeat, thumping so painfully against one of his pecs. “Are- are you okay?”

That gets you a hot laugh into your neck, followed by a long, drawn-out shudder that sends shivers down your spine. Through laughs, he manages to grit out, “You’re asking me that?”

He sounds surprised - relieved almost. Such a tender note in his tone at the lack of usual taunting in your words.

Gojo lets you go - barely, still keeping two strong arms locked around your waist like he was afraid even the slightest distance could have you in danger all over again. “You can take the t-shirt.” He breathes, picking up the damp fabric now fallen onto the floor and pressing it into your palms. “I’m more of a Naruto guy anyway. And you can take the bed, I was jok-”

“You can take it.”

“What? No-”

“You can.” you cut him off, giving a sidelong glance at the cramped couch tucked into a corner of your suite. Again, you’re drinking in all of him, how tall he was. How warm. How he’d probably have half his body dangling off the side of the cushions, “We can- I mean we can share. We’re adults, right? Wouldn’t want you complaining about a sore back during the contract talks anyway.”

“Worrying about me, sweetheart?”

“No.” you scowl, pushing him away. “Now excuse you, but I have to use the bathroom since someone was hogging it earlier.”

And if you’d waited just a moment longer - maybe peaked your head out instead of scurrying inside as fast as your legs carried you - you’d have noticed that Gojo was still standing there. A fist clenched at where his heart was, face as pink as those blooming sakura outside.

---

You didn’t sleep that night. Not one bit.

It might partially have to do with the fact that your bed was invaded by one very gangly asshole sprawling himself all over the pillow wall you’d constructed. Or maybe to do with the aching discomfort in your joints after moving to sleep on the hard couch after only a few minutes of him getting knocking out.

“Good morning~” Gojo’s sing-song voice rings through your verging murderous thoughts on the second day. “The sun is shining, my skin is glowing and-” His bleary eyes lock on your hunched figure across the room, looking genuinely confused as to how you got here. “-you’re on the couch?”

“Yeah. Considered taking ya out in your sleep but then I realized the contract would be in jeopardy.”

He whines, “I’ve- I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

“They probably ran away before that.” you nod solemnly over his sputtering complaints. Stretching, content with the pop of your bones. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look away when Gojo mimics your actions, sleep shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of white tufts at the hem of his boxers. He pouts, sulky eyes still locked on you, “But still, should’ve kicked me out. I would’ve expected you to instead of taking that shitty couch. Seems like something that guy would do.”

Your heart pangs - just a bit - and you let out a sharp laugh, “Fine, I’ll kick you out tonight. Maybe.” It’s genuine, it really is, and in the growing silence all Gojo can manage to do is fall back into your little familiar dance of teasing.

“Going soft on me? Y’know it’s usually the ladies crawling into my bed not out of it-”

“Oh fuck you. I take it back, I will kick you out of the room itself. Have fun sleeping in the onsen, you smug bastard.”

He squawks in protest when you throw a cushion at him. Several, actually, just for good measure. “Mercy, woman! I’m delicate!”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When Gojo falls back into the comfort of the silky soft sheets, you heave out a sigh. Making your way to the sliding doors, still fully expecting a flustered employee telling you that this was all a mistake and of course, you two weren’t booked for the honeymoon suite.

“Yes?” you answer, eyes widening when you spot that familiar man in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh god, it’s you.” Naoya spits, gaze heating up. “Of course, I should’ve known it’s you and that idiot boyfriend of yours makin’ so much noise next door.”

Great. Perfect. Wonderful. As if this trip couldn’t get any better.

You pinch your nose, echoing hollowly, “What do you want?”

“Exactly that. Don’t make so much noise, neighbor. I don’t care what limp dick he’s giving you-”

“Is that all?” you ask dryly, fully knowing there’s more he’s just aching to hurl at you. Before tucking yourself further behind the door, “If that’s all then I hafta go back to that ‘limp dick’.”

“What’s this about limp dick?” Goosebumps run along your arms when you feel something soft - hot - push up from behind you. From the corner of your eye, you spy a long milky hand flex as Gojo - shirtless - cages you in the doorway, “Because it sure can’t be mine then. Won’t you agree, my girl?”

Your face burns at the knowing wink Gojo throws your way, barely managing to hasten, “Uh- yeah.”

“She doesn’t sound very convinced.” Naoya narrows his eyes at your minute expressions, knowing you uncomfortably well after so long. “Guess she’s been missing a real man, huh?”

He scoffs, and you gulp heavily when soft lips kiss a gentle trail up the side of your neck, “Well who’s the one that’s been makin’ her scream all mornin’?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, blatantly showing off a ruddy splotch from where you’d attacked him with a cushion earlier, the zipper leaving a suspicious mark. “Like I said at the train station, she can make her own choices and she’s long forgotten your sorry ass so don’t even try it, you two-toned little bastard.”

Wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, you’re easily tugged back into the safety of your suite - and into Gojo’s sculpted front. You don’t push him away as your immediate thought was to, the feeling was right - too right.

“Satoru?” you hiss once the door is slammed shut.

“Hm?” he whispers hotly into the crook of your neck.

Still pressed up so close that you can feel the surge and dip of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. “Why are you shirtless?”

“Uh- did I ever tell you I was a method actor, sweetheart?”

---

Unfortunately, despite being in one of the most picturesque hotspots that Kyoto had to offer, a work trip - especially one with such a high profile client and his protegé - meant that the two of you spent most of the day cooped up in your room, typing away on your laptops.

“Ugh, this sucks.” Gojo groans for about the seventh time this hour. Running a hand tiredly through his hair, “Are you always such a hardass about contracts like this? Honestly, I can’t even feel my legs and it is not in the good way-”

“You pussy.” you grumble as you chug down another can of coffee, eyes flickering to the clock at the end of the room reading 11:00PM. “You don’t see me complaining.”

He only scoffs, “Of course ya wouldn’t complain, this shit probably gets you off. But unfortunately for those of us that have lives-”

You click your tongue, rubbing the oncoming headache that always seems to appear when you’re near Gojo. “Yeah, because talkin’ out of your ass and being a public nuisance is such a great life.”

“C’mon now, I see you picking at that blanket - my blanket, by the way - like it insulted your entire bloodline. You’re not slick, you wanna get outta here too.” At your pointed silence, he’s kicking his legs in the air, very much the toddler you knew him to be. “That’s- that’s it I can’t-”

Before you can react, Gojo is barrelling through the sliding doors of your suite. Long legs carrying up the short pathway that led to that private hot spring.

You’re following him before you realize it, “What- what are you- oh!”

You couldn’t cover your eyes fast enough. Being gifted with a brief, obscene eyeful of pale skin - leading all the way down his naked back, and even further when he cannonballs straight into the pool of water.

Shit, maybe this was why the others at the office loved him so much.

And it was hard not to understand it when Gojo’s drenched head poked out from under the hot water. White strands plastered to his forehead, a blush creeping down his skin at the head, looking at you with slightly-red, damp eyes that only seemed bluer through the steam.

“Yeah yeah I know I didn’t rinse before and I know I didn’t finish our project yet but-” he grins a grin that you don’t think you could ever forget. And you don’t know whether how hot you feel is from the onsen or him. Reaching out a soaked, strong arm towards you. “-won’t you help me get out?”

You startle, clearly not having expected this request. Narrowing your eyes suspiciously as you inch closer, “Get out?” He nods eagerly, fingers intertwining softly with yours. “Fine but-”

Whatever scream you might’ve let out is swallowed up by water- then air.

Then more very deserved yelling, of course. “Satoru what the fuck-” Your nails dig into his deltoids, sure to leave some very questionable marks but you didn’t care at this moment. Wiping away the water in your face while he holds you up easily, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, can’t kill me when you’re clinging to me like this, sweetheart.” Gojo rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to push you off. In fact, he only tightens the arm around your hips. “You looked like you needed that, the 8 hours of straight working like Yaga was havin’ you act like him.”

Somehow, you don’t feel strange about the fact that you’re being pushed up against a very painfully naked Gojo. Living out what is probably the wet dream for about half the office.

He notices, of course he does.

“Trynna take a peek?” Gojo wiggles his brows. And when you’re trying to hide away behind your hands, he nuzzles them away, arms a bit too occupied holding you captive. Sighing dramatically, “No need to be shy, many people do. I don’t mind of course, ah the woes of being fucking hot.”

Gasping, “Fuck you.” Unbeknownst as to why, you’re laughing. Contemplating whether you should really give him a good kick down below when you choke out, “You’re an asshole, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles. “N’ yet you still haven’t drowned me.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Why could you really fucking kiss him right now?

“I know.”

The moment is broken only a few seconds later by some ungodly screeching you recognize to be none other than your beloved ex’s from next door. Yelling about “Shut the fuck up, if you’re gonna have onsen sex I’m calling the front lobby.”

“What? Can’t a man fuck his girl in peace?” Gojo shouts back. “Shut up just because your puny dick can’t get some, two-tone.”

That broke whatever magical spell was put on the two of you, obviously. And you were the first to run back to the suite - leaving Gojo and his nakedness alone. Very, very alone.

He takes a bit longer to follow you, and you’re already freshened up and in bed by the time he makes his way to the bathroom - with clothes this time, fortunately for your sanity.

Only a few minutes later, he’s nestling right next to you on the bed. You gasp in a sharp inhale at the heat of his proximity, mere millimeters away from you now.

“Good work today, by the way.” Gojo gruffs out to your turned back, quiet words carrying over that ridiculous extra-vaulted wall of pillows, padded up with ones from the couch, too. Silver tongue stumbling over his words slightly, “For how much I complained I didn’t get to tell ya. You and I - mainly I - are gonna ace that contract tomorrow.”

There’s no taunting in his tone, not one bit. And you surprise the both of you when you murmur out shakily, “I’m worried.”

“Huh?” he chokes in disbelief. “Listen, I know I slept through that meeting one time, but I swear it was only one time. I’m a…somewhat changed man, I promise I won’t-”

“Not that.”

He pauses at your interruption. All is quiet - only the chirping of crickets outside, and the steamy buzz of nearby hot springs.

And for the first time in the twenty-something years Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc upon this Earth, he is rendered speechless. Wordlessly picking apart your wall of pillows - one by one, as if to give you more than enough time to stop him - to loop two strong arms around you.

“Shut up.” he breathes. “You’ll do brilliant, silly girl.”

---

Gojo remembers the exact date he met you - probably the exact time, too. Honestly, even three whole years after that initial meeting, he can’t remember anything but that, if you asked him to recall a single meeting held that week then Gojo honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

It was a regular day spent driving poor Nanami over in the marketing department dangerously close to his fifth migraine of the day.

“You know I know I’m a valuable asset to this company Nanamin.” he chuckles, looking over where the other man was readying a sparkly Welcome! banner. “But this is all too much even for me~”

“It’s not for you.” Nanami spits, curtly. Barely sparing Gojo a glance before readying the welcome muffins, “It’s for the new head of department arriving soon today.”

And oh that piqued his interest like never before. That had all thoughts of the meeting he was currently missing flying out the window as he wondered what you would be like. Swiping away a few of those tempting muffins right out of Ichiji’s hands, he wonders. Would you be another Ichiji? Would you try and keep him under your thumb like Yaga? Hah, you could try but-

“Look I don’t know if the sales department doesn’t have food but, really?”

What?

A shudder wracks through the oh-so-great Gojo’s body at the sound of your cool, firm tone turning to meet the source and-

Oh. Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul impaled and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Gojo thought his knees were weak at just a gorgeous glare from you - well, he was completely and utterly unprepared for when he leaned in closer to where you stood firmly. Shielding a pale, trembling Ichiji. And, honestly, with a death stare like that you couldn’t blame a guy for getting nervous! It’s all he could do to hum out a cocky, “What? Want some, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? What I want is you out of my department.” you furrow your brows. “Now.”

It’s all that’s said before you’re dragging him by his hand out - and, shit Gojo is so riveted by how soft your hands are that he almost forgets to be offended by the way the entire marketing department just watches and giggles at the scene playing out before them. Traitors.

You push him out of the door, “I better not see you coming back to toy with my new employees-” Heavy gaze flickering down to his name tag. “-Gojo.”

Ah, truly a woman of his dreams.

And it honestly still felt like a dream even now - especially now - when you’re stood in front of him on the third day in Kyoto. Fingers messing meticulously with your hair as you check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your new red dress. “God, I hope it isn’t too much. How do I look?”

Perfect, he wants to say.

But instead he nudges your shoulder in the booth of your seat, settling for an obnoxious, “Alright, not as good as me, though.” Gojo takes delight in the way you give his arm a punch, smile a lot easier than before now.

“As if, you can’t even tie this properly. Here-” your fingers fiddle deftly with his slightly crooked tie. “Fixed it, you big baby.”

He grins, “If you wanted to get your hands on me then you should’ve- oh wait you already have, haven’t you? I remember that someone bypassed her own lil’ pillow wall last night.”

“Shut up.” you give him a tight warning. “They’re here.”

Honestly, there was only one thing worse than seeing old Gakuganji - that is, the sight of his sniveling protegé following him right after. Except-

“Two-tone?”

“Y-you!”

There’s a tense silence between the three of you in the exquisite onsen dining hall, one that almost makes you want to jump up and bolt back to your room because this can’t be real. Surely, this can’t be-

“I see the three of you are already acquainted?” Gakuganji’s strained, aged voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts. “Sit, sit, Naoya. That only makes things easier.”

As a fuming Naoya and an oblivious Gakuganji take their seats in front of the two of you, you feel the undeniable pressure of long, warm fingers squeezing your own. Reassuring. And it makes you flash the two men your best, most polished business smile, “So, about the contract.”

---

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Satoru.”

“No, I will throw up. And that will not be good for my reputation.”

“Satoru, if you throw up I’m beating your ass.”

He narrows his eyes at your heated whisper, matching you with a low, “Damn keep it for the bedroom sweetheart. We still hafta wait till Gakuganji comes back with his decision.”

“Ahem!”

It’s that annoyed, grating faux cough that drags you and Gojo out of your little world - back to reality in which no, unfortunately while your primary client has gone off to take an important business call regarding your contract, you were left to babysit his protegé.

“Yes, Naoya.” you give him a dry grin. It was nearing well into late night at this point, and most of the other visitors had cleared out except for the reserved table you were sitting in. “Do you want to be beat up, too?”

He only points an accusing finger at the two of you, “Don’t play games with me you hear. I’ve already got you figured out, coming here on a business trip and dating your coworker all the same-” Both you and Gojo raise a brow at this, what an idiot. “-you two will be fired for this.”

You catch Gojo’s eye and try not to burst out laughing, “As if. And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I knew that you were Gakuganji’s new protegé.”

“Not because the guy you have to be here with is the same one you told me you hated back then?” he spits. “Honestly, you’d have been better off with me than this ‘pompous, no-good nepo baby asshole’ as you loved to put it.”

And you knew that Gojo was aware of your little rivalry - hell, he was an active participant, more than happy to rile you up every time. But that still didn’t stop you from tensing up when you spared a glance at the man beside you.

Surprised to see that unapologetic smirk on his face, “Of course she did.” Looking down at you with what you swore was such unimaginably deep fondness in his eyes. “I probably imagine she told you all the funny ways she wanted to get back at me, too? Banning me from the marketing department? Holding an anti-Gojo campaign? Strangling?” Gojo takes Naoya’s shocked silence as enough of an answer, “Guess what, she did hate me, probably still can’t stand me. Very understandably so, because she’s hot as fuck when she’s mad.”

Despite his furrowed brow and the angry slash of his mouth, Naoya can’t stop himself from blurting out, “W-well how did you-”

“We fuck it out, of course.”

And perhaps for the one time on this entire trip, the universe smiles down at you. You find yourself sighing in relief at the sight of Gakuganji nearing your table, evidently done with his phone call. Thank fuck, you weren’t ready for a fight to break out and this dress was too expensive to ruin.

“Seems you three are getting along well.” the old man drones out, and by the tone of his voice you genuinely can’t tell whether he was joking or not. Turning towards you and Gojo, “Well, after that very thorough presentation and careful consideration with the board at our Kyoto branch, we have all come to a unanimous decision.” You wait with bated breath for his next few words, “Where do we sign?”

Naoya stands in his seat, “But- but, sir.” He cringes, as furious as the last time you’d seen him a year ago. “You can’t sign off on this deal- not with these scumming, absolute little shits.”

“Naoya.” Gakuganji’s voice carries a warning. “You are dismissed.”

Ah, Gojo chuckles inwardly, exactly where he wanted him.

It seemed like a blur after that - a blur of signed contracts and Gojo making faces at an ashen-faced Naoya behind Gakuganji’s back, of being told that the two of you simply “must visit” their offices in Kyoto one day - much to your exes absolute torture. To which Gojo had replied with a smug, “Of course, my girlfriend and I will. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Just loud enough that Naoya - who’d been banned to a nearby table - could fume over.

And it’s how you found yourself pulling a giggly Gojo by his lapels back to your suite, hasty and desperate. Tripping over one another as you stumble in.

“Easy there on the merchandise, sweetheart.” he jests, but it sounds so strained even to him. “Can’t break our streak and kill each other on the last day now, can we?”

Your laughter dies down, “Hey, Satoru?”

“Oh no…”

“Why did you call me your girlfriend even at the end back then?”

His brows scrunch up, pleading almost. He chokes out, “Just- you- I just-” Flicking a calculated finger right in the middle of your forehead, “You think too much, did you know that? Hate to see this pretty face like this, did you see his reaction?”

“Oh my god yes did you see his face, Satoru?” you’re pressing him against the wall to steady yourselves. Feeling so drunk off the evening and him. “Naoya looked like he was going to explode right then and there. We did so good.”

“What did I tell, ya? I always know everything, silly girl.” Two big arms wrap around yours in a congratulatory hug - or, at least, what you think is a congratulatory hug. And if his palms dip just a bit lower than your waist - if this was just a bit inappropriate - neither of you say anything. “Mhm. Don’t even know what you dated that fool in the first place, he’s not even in your league.”

You scoff, “Gee thanks.”

“No no, not in that way, don’t ever think in that way, stupid.” A long index comes up to tilt your chin up to meet his greedy gaze. “You’re too gorgeous for him. Besides, he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

“Well- he did find it.” you relish in that deepening furrow of Gojo’s brow, the way the muscles in his jaw tick just right. “But wanna hear a secret?” Those soft baby hair at the nape of his neck raise when you’re whispering in his ear, barely even waiting for his dazed nod. “He still never made me cum.”

“...Never?”

“Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, one. Two.

Shit.

You’d long expected Gojo’s smart mouth to make some kind of insulting joke by now. And you’re halfway through wondering whether you’d overshared too much, untangling your arms from his vice-like embrace before-

“I would.” he rasps, breaths ragged. You’re tilting your head in confusion when he repeats cockily, “I would’ve made you cum, y’know. How could I not?”

There’s a snarky little part of you that makes you quick a brow, a sultry smirk playing on your lips. “Is that an offer?”

Gojo’s arms loop around you tight - almost too tight, you could almost hear your poor bones popping in protest. “It’s a promise.”

Oh that’s all you wanted to hear right about now. And he can fucking see the goosebumps that make their way down your exposed shoulders, he can practically hear that syrupy sweet tone that was really not good for his sanity.

“Prove it, Satoru.”

His lips are crashing against yours like they’re magnetized - and it’s nothing like what you’d imagine kissing Gojo Satoru would’ve been like. Nothing suave, shallow. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth and lips and his tongue tasting every inch of your candied lips like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t even want to breathe for fear of losing out on your pretty mouth.

“Fuck-” Gojo hisses, delicate strings of spit snapping as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to take in the delicious sight of you all glossy eyed with swollen lips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Kissing you over and over like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t want to get enough, you’re moaning when Gojo slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. Addicted to the distinct taste of him and those cheap cherry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room.

He’s drawing back in a way that has him drinking in your soft noises, big palms kneading your body over your dress.

“Sa- Sato-” you’re gasping out when he flips you over to press you up against the wall. Assaulting your bruised lips with heated peck after peck. “What do you- mean-”

He groans, lips moving to kiss down the quivering column of your throat, “Shut up- Just shut up and kiss me. God, for how much I love that mouth of yours, you talk way too much, sweetheart.”

And that was really rich coming from him - but you don’t get to snark back at him. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that Gojo decides he’s had enough of playing nice - that is, if he was in the first place.

Immediately fiddling towards that cold metal zipper in the back, gliding down the red fabric right along with your bra- shit, when did he even unclip it?

“You-” you sputter, the cool chill of the bedroom pebbles your sensitive nipples. The dawning feeling that this absolute thorn at your side might be much more than just talk has your thighs pressing together. Leveling him with a narrow look, “You are such a whore, aren’t you?”

He flashes you a sheepish grin, large palms groping your tits. “Would ya believe me if I told you it was from how many times I’d imagined this before?”

“Absolutely not.”

This earns you a sharp smack! gifted onto the fat of your ass, the five pads of Gojo’s fingers burning onto where your dress was hiking up.

“Always need to talk back, don’t you?” he spits, shoving a knee between your two legs. Such an innocently handsome grin splashing across his face at the soft moan you let out, grinding purposefully against that damp mound of your needy cunt. “Why won’t you ever hah- believe me?” He has one hand shoving your dress down, down, down. The other dragging your sloppy hips down his muscled thigh, “You wanna hear a secret? Stick your tongue out f’me like a good girl now, sweetheart.”

And oh you wanted to fight back. To outright refuse to comply so brattily, but it’s all you can do to nod blearily, feeling so fucking dirty with the way you’re letting your tongue loll out. Whining when Gojo smushes your cheeks together into an obscene pucker, into the perfect target for him to spit once. Twice.

“Yeah, take it- that’s my girl. A secret for a secret, right?” Gojo smiles so darkly, swiping away that thick splatter of syrupy saliva dredged up on the corner of your mouth. Intentional, of course. His words are low but clear, unable to have you mistaking them for anything else when he says, “That time I slept through the whole meeting? Wasn’t sleepin’.” He bites down on your earlobe, licking lightly. “S’just, I happened to see that cute new skirt you were wearing that day, it was so short- so fuckin’ tight. Couldn’t bear to show my face, not after I’d just spent the past few hours with my hand wrapped around my cock, wondering all the sweet things I could do to you in it.”

You’re gasping, “You’re so fucking filthy.”

“Yeah yeah.” he purrs, toying with the hem of your now dress, the red cloth now dangling somewhere at your thighs. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as dirty, hardass. Actin’ all prudish when ya dress like this underneath.”

As if to prove his point, the back of one of his fingers is gliding across where your lacy black panties were peeking out. Groaning at the sopping wet fabric, “Yeah, just as dirty as I thought.”

With his little hypothesis confirmed, it’s all that Gojo has to do to pick you up with one arm hooking under your already trembly thighs. You’re keening when he plants another solid smack on the fat of your ass, “Satoru!”

“Ohh, I love that. Say it again.” he murmurs, walking slowly to the edge of your shared bed. Savoring that feeling of your drooling cunt seeping through to paint a small dark patch on his suit. “I said, say it again.”

All it takes is another harsh slap against your ass, and a honeyed drag of Gojo’s name for him to splay you out like some slut on the soft silken sheets. You find yourself pulling him back by his broad shoulders when he takes the moment to admire just how gorgeous you looked. Even better than any daydream that mind of his could think of.

“Sa-toru-” you mewl, and he only licks his lips as if in a daze. Not knowing where to look - at that needy, already-cockdrunk glaze over your eyes, at the way your flimsy dress wrapped around the plush of your thighs, at that glistening little patch on the plump mound of your cunt. So mouthwatering. “Satoru- Sa- Toru!”

That makes him snap out of his little hypnosis. “What did you call me?” he breathes.

You bat your lashes deceivingly innocently up at him, “Sato-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off, Adam’s apple bobbing with the heavy gulp he takes. Thumbing at your puffy lips as if to drag the same words out of you - have them going straight to his achy cock once more. “That other one. Don’t play stupid with me, silly girl, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Oh, you did.

And you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches with anticipation when you whine out that little nickname once more. “Toru, please.” Adding a little flair to have Gojo’s rosy lips fall into a soft oh! choking on a ragged low hiss when a hand of his subconsciously goes down to squeeze his bulging erection.

“Oh yes, m’name sounds so fuckin’ cute on your lips.” he groans. The sheets below you two rustling with movement when he shuffles urgently downwards, “Sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna-”

RIP!

“-know if she sounds it out just as pretty as you.”

You’re still reeling from the tatters of what remained of your favorite red dress being thrown unapologetically onto the tatami mats below. Huffing in irritation, “Satoru, if you’re ngh- dead if you don’t replace that-”

He’s shutting you up with another quiet smack onto your heated skin - this time at your shamefully spread inner thighs, the edges of his padded fingers just barely touching on your swollen folds. “Yeah yeah, I’ll buy ya the whole fuckin’ store if I have to.” Before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath on your beading cunt, “And m’gonna make it so you don’t dare call me that again.”

You don’t have a response to that - and anything you might’ve taunted back is being knocked out of your mouth. The only thing leaving it being slurred little whimpers of Gojo’s name when he licks a long, languid stripe up your puffy slit.

“Oh, look at that.” he chuckles. Pushing apart your thighs to get a nice greedy look at every drop of your sweet sweet juices glistening in the dim lighting. “Think she’s more mouthy than you, if tha’s even possible, heh.”

His long, eager tongue is slurping up every syrupy drop of your slick. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Fuck- Toru.” your fingers find their way weaving into his soft strands when the very tip of his soft tongue finds its way just past your folds. Arching your spine off the plush bed needily like some slut, “Need you to- hngh- go deeper.”

The only response you’re getting is a sultry, smug grin being spread across your pussy lips. Feeling everything from the quirk of his cupid’s bow, to that dimple at the edge of Gojo’s smirk, “Knew you were needy, but this- this is fucking amazing.”

“Guess you’re all bark no bite, huh?” you pout, voice teetering into teasingly whiny. And oh how you love the way that wipes all the cockiness from Gojo’s face. “Even Naoya was able to actually eat me out the way I-”

It’s like it killed him to hear those goading words from you - and something snaps before he’s shoving that pretty face of his back nose-deep into your addictive pussy.

Slotting his tongue up and down your hot slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“F-fuck, oh Toru-” you squeal when he wastes no time pushing past that snug little ring of resistance to reach deep into your gummy walls. Barely even giving you any warning - Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at how sinfully tight you were squeezing him. “Shit how are you in so deep-”

And that petty, petty little part of him doesn’t answer, instead gliding up a determined thumb up to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit. Fast. So so sloppy with the way he was letting your juices dribble past his knuckles, his wrist, forming a glossy sheen all the way down to the sheets. Matching the ruthless cadence of the way he was fucking your ravaged cunt the way he wished he could do with his rock-hard cock right now.

“Ah!” you gasp, when one swipe of his tongue sends jolts of pure white-hot pleasure running up your spine. And that’s all Gojo has to hear before he’s attacking your hidden sweet spot over and over. “F-fuck s’too good. Fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is- ngh- so good at this-”

That causes a husky rasp of laughter to bubble its way out of Gojo’s throat, and he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm. “Don’t you dare run away now. You’re so cute when you’re cockdrunk and truthful like this, silly girl.”

The vibrations have you moaning out a feverish Toru! Toru! Toru! louder than ever, wrenching out of you with every crash of his soft tongue against your sensitive spots. Every harsh swivel on your clit, just harder on the tip, softer at the curve.

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, say my name like that.” he gasps, spitting out hissy profanities into your velvety walls. You were squeezing him so tight it was almost difficult to bully his tongue into your plushy walls. To keep up his mean staccato - but fuck, it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up, it didn’t matter if his tongue was getting tired. Because Gojo Satoru was one stubborn man. “Louder-”

“T-Toru!”

“No no,” you’re jolting at the feeling of something cool and glossy hitting your cunt in a harsh glob. Gojo barely wastes any time thumbing his spit in to mix with the mess made down below, letting your ears ring with such obscene squelches that have your cheeks burning. “Hear this, sweetheart?” As if there’s anything else you could hear, he’s pulling out those sultry sounds from you. “She’s louder than you, n’ that makes me so sad-” You fuck up further and further into Gojo’s tongue, eyes locked with his down in his favorite position between your legs. “-my girl can be ah- loud f’me, right? Say my name, say it so the whole fuckin’ onsen hears.”

“Toru—”

He’s taunting you in that same honeyed tone, “Louder.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, louder. Tell it to me.”

“Toru! Fuck- m-close-” It’s probably the last understandable sentence you’re managing to moan out before you finally cum. Wave after wave of such filthy pleasure hitting you, it’s all you can do to tighten your grip on his hair. Angling and using leverage to grind your hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his tongue sending stars behind your eyelids. And Gojo, satisfied, shuts up to let you ride his face through your high. Using him, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over his tongue, his mouth. Over and over.

“Jus’ a bit more-” you hear him whisper out so sweetly over your ringing ears. Suddenly, your limp hands fall to the sides of that drenched pool you’ve made. And yet Gojo is still going, still meshing his bruised lips so messily against your own, making out with your cunt in a way that has him so depraved. “Just some more, pretty girl- you taste so addictive.”

Big fat tears of overstimulation prick at your eyes, and you’re sobbing out, “W-wait- fuck m’too sensitive for that.”

“You can handle it, you’re a big- fuck- a big girl, aren’t ya?” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every taste of your pussy. Surging forwards despite the hold you have on his hair, “Hold on- just want a bit more- you don’t know how long-”

The pout he’s giving you once you have to just drag him away like a man starved, fighting against the grip you have on him.

But oh Gojo looks so pretty, cloudy bangs pulled back to reveal his delicately blushing face, lips painted in a glossy sheen of your slick. Slobbering down, down, down to glisten across the bottom half of his face. Looking so bruised with how greedy he was, almost the same color as those cherry lollipops he loved so much. And his eyes - fuck, his eyes - glassy and half-lidded, hazy with a sheen that told you he was already completely and utterly pussydrunk out of his sanity.

“Toru…” you start, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he moans at the mere sound of your voice. “Your turn.”

It’s a long endeavor to get rid of Gojo’s pants - or, at least that’s what it feels like.

Hooking a still-shaky leg over his toned waist, you’re slamming his muscular frame down onto the mattress. Buttons hitting the floor when you all but tear his overpriced button-up off - because, really, it’s not you two if one of you doesn’t get your revenge somehow.

“These- these damn belts.” you scoff, too-eager fingers fumbling with the metal latches of Gojo’s belt. “Why does it have to have so many-”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager this way, silly girl.” he’s cupping the side of your face. Free hand easily unbuckling his belt, and the heady metallic sounds are enough to have your cunt so needy. “Like this-”

You’re gasping when he finally takes his formal dress pants off - along with those uselessly precum-soaked boxers. Sticky and leaving a lewd trail of glossy down his milky, sculpted thighs.

And oh if you thought Gojo was pretty before then he was a fucking masterpiece right now. All tall, lean muscle that rippled with every minute movement. Curves and dips of sculpted skin being accentuated so perfectly against the dim lightning in your suite.

So infuriating at how that couldn’t give you a better look at his massive, swollen length. So long and girthy, hefty where his fat head was leaking silky precum all over his abs. Such a delicate pink matching his lips at the head, dancing down, down his thick, prominent veins to those tufts of soaked white at his sharp pelvis. Fuck, he was so big - could you actually take him?

Wrapping your soft palm around Gojo’s furiously throbbing fast, you’re letting him coat you hand in a sinful sheen. And you can’t help but wonder what he’d taste like, too-

“Hold on right there, my dirty girl.” your slowly dipping head is tilted firmly by Gojo. “As much as hngh- fuck you’re squeezing me so tight- as much as this has been fuck- all I’d dreamt of since that office ice cream party. I just know m’gonna cum as soon as you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing gently at your lips, sucking on your lower lip. “And I just know you’re never gonna fuck– let me live that down.”

You smirk, “Not gonna live that ice cream party thing, either, Toru.”

“He flashes you such a devilish smile, steadying your hips to straddle him messily. Spreading your legs on either side of his weepy tip. “Oh, fuck off.”

You hiss when you’re feeling the hot kiss his head is planting on your sensitive pussy lips, “Fuck you.”

“No.” Gojo chuckles, powerful thighs curling up to plant his feet on the mattress. Waiting. Anticipating. “I’m fucking you-”

It’s barely even a warning - laughable, really - how that’s all he’s gifting you with before bullying the very tip of his fat cock into your snug cunt in a sloppy hit.

He groans, eyes fighting to roll to the back of his head but caught so so greedily on the way you swollen pussy lips are being spread so obscenely to swallow every single inch after fucking inch. Disappearing down into your gooey walls, Gojo’s breath hitches at the first sign of resistance from your too-tight entrance.

“C’mon now.” he moans gutturally. Hips fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so desperately to plunge himself in deeper. “C’mon c’mon come- on-”

“Toru!” you’re gasping when he slides his soaked length even deeper. Feeding in to the way your gummy walls want more more more more- “You’re so fuckin’ hngh- impatient.”

“Me?” he’s asking, voice a few octaves higher and dripping with the audacity to sound so genuinely in disbelief. “You’re- you’re saying that I’m impatient. Oh, sweetheart-” you blink back the lusty haze in your eyes to look down at Gojo fully, spying that upwards curl of his lips that you knew didn’t mean well for you right now. “-look down.”

Your eyes widening as you’re whirling downwards to spy the way he’s not even halfway in yet. But that’s not all, no, your poor pussy is just absolutely bulging around his girthy shaft, struggling, stretched to their limits - yet still quivering with the effort to try and milk something delicious out of him.

And the moment that tiny, shaky gasp leaves your mouth, his sharp hip bones are just crashing into yours. Toned hips lifting off of the bed to drive his achy cock into your drooling cunt. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down, down, down-

“Toru-” you’re moaning, like a mantra, once his angry tip is gliding across the spongy wall of your cervix. The stretch too much, Gojo’s cock so thick in his girth that you could feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length. “F-fuck, Toru!”

He chuckles, gritting out through those long, determined grinds. Having himself now fully stuffed inside your cunt, heavy balls kissing at the curve of your ass, pubic hair scratching up against your needy clit. “Can’t hah- keep quiet, can you? Fuckin’ love how needy she is- how needy you are.”

“Sh-shut up-” you mewl, narrowing your eyes.

“Hah- I would.” Gojo grins out so smugly. Tilting you precariously on top of him like some ragdoll to easily give your g-spot a mean crash of his greedy head. “But you can’t.”

And of course, he’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, abs burning with the ache to fuck you so rude. Gojo spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther.

“Fuuuck, jus’ look at you.” he rasps, the deep baritone of his voice having your gummy walls mold even harder onto the shape of his cock. Gojo throws his had back, twitching balls squeezing harder with every increasing smack against your ass. “Shit shit shit- how that bastard had you hngh- all to himself and didn’t make th-this pretty pussy come everyday I’ll never understand.” He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening, “So don’t we hah- rub it in his ugly face?”

Shit, the thought has you grinding and stuttering your hips down to meet Gojo’s unforgiving cadence, arching your body into him like you couldn’t get enough.

“You just got- hngh- so impossibly harder at that.” you push his bucking shoulders down onto the mattress. Now fully riding him just as much as he was fucking you into the mattress so animalistically. “And you call me needy.”

He scoffs, “I’m not the only one.” The fingers still lingering on your cunt moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying your clit between two fingers. “Can you just h-hear how loud this pussy of yours is? Bet he can hear too.”

And it was true, the wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Gojo’s pounding cock in the same maddening staccato.

But still - you weren’t going to be compliant that easily. Feeling the familiar tingles of your high edging closer, you wanted to break him just one more time. “Nah- I don’t think he can.”

“Oh you’re gonna regret that, silly girl.”

In all of two seconds - maybe even less than - Gojo’s using his immense strength to his advantage. Flipping the two of you over so your back is hitting the soaked sheets, droopy legs thrown over your shoulder to plow into you in such a mean mating press he has you folded into.

The new change in angle makes it even easier for him to be kissing your g-spot. Bruising. Branding his name onto your sweet spots - your cervix - so you wouldn’t forget. So you can’t forget.

“F-fuck, Toru-” you’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit - playing around with it as much as he was playing with your sanity. “I’m so-”

“What was that?” he interrupts through sloppy, stuttering thrusts. Free hand cupping his ear so goadingly, ‘Can’t hear you, sweetheart.“

“Toru-” you’re squealing over his rapidly accelerating movements. Fighting to babble out coherently, “Toru m’close-”

“Louder.” he’s grinning meanly. Hips burning with slowly fatiguing effort because he’s so close, your slick walls are massaging him so tight. But where’s the fun if there’s no teasing? “Still can’t hear ya.”

Your voice is shot at this point, “Toru, m’gonna cum-”

“Louder or m’not gonna let you.”

“Toru! Fuck fuck fuck m’cumming.” It hits him before those loud moans are even leaving your mouth, because your velvety walls are clamping down so snug. Molding to the shape of him, your heels digging even deeper on his shoulder, nails raking red red patterns down the pale skin of his biceps. “M’cumming- ngh-”

And fuck each and every slam of his hips sends electricity up your spine, bullying you through your high. Dragging it out till you think you could go insane.

“God- fuck you’re so-” It’s the only hoarse grunt leaving Gojo’s lips before he’s spilling thick rope after rope of seed into the awaiting channel of your pussy. “So perfect f’me.”

Two hands of his lace above your head, pushing you so impossibly deep down his thick hilt. He’s cumming and cumming so hard like he never has in his life, body out of control with the way he’s stuffing you with every drop of seed.

He shivers at the overspill, gushing out of the corners of your ravaged cunt, painting a creamy ring around his tired base. Too much. And yet mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “At least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, hm?”

You smile into it, slotting your hips languidly, “Didn’t do hgnh- the neighbors any favors, either.”

“It’s Naoya, who fucking cares? ‘Limp dick’ my ass.” And oh how Gojo loved that sweet sweet smile gracing your lips, the way your eyes light up all because of him. He can’t help but drawl out, “Y’know…since we were locked up in this room for all three days, and have most of the day tomorrow, how about you and I actually do some sightseeing here before we leave?”

You nod eagerly, tightening your legs around his waist and shit, this might just be heaven. “We need a break after that contract, s’gonna be so fun.”

He’s connecting his sticky forehead with yours, “Of course it will be, I’ll be there.” Babbling deliriously, drunk off the way you’re leveling him with another one of your familiar glares, “And we can use Yaga’s care, too, he never checks-”

“Toru…” you warn when Gojo cuts himself off with a gasp. Quirking an irritated brow - as you usually did when you’re with him, “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into Yaga’s card, he’ll kill you if he finds out. That’s if I don’t kill you first.”

“...”

“...Toru…”

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I booked us this suite with it too?”

A/N. My red flag is making Naoya the shitty ex in every piece of writing I do (or is that a green flag hmmm?)

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

7K notes · View notes

ashasdiary · 2 months

Text

Vitamins

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!Nanami being super domestic, encouraging you to take vitamins, and taking care of you in all ways.

CW: pet names, going to the doctors, established relationship, smut — dirty talking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, brief edging, breeding kink if you squint, pregnancy (MDNI) WC: 4.6k A/N: I’m not religious but I need him biblically.

“You’re not anaemic, but your iron levels were shown to be at 4, where we would like to see them at 6, so they’re low,” the doctor informs you.

You nod in acceptance and Nanami, sat beside you, leans in as he listens intently, elbows on his knees and hands joined together. He’d been the one who recommended you get your blood tested, so of course he was here to support.

“I’ll be prescribing you some iron tablets for that and hopefully we can see some results after a couple of months. Further, it was found that you were deficient in vitamin A, B12, and D. Your vitamin K levels looked to be normal, however,” the doctor goes on and you nod again.

“That’s good, honey. You were concerned about bruises and wound recovery but your vitamin K is fine. Right, doctor?” Nanami gazes at you before looking back to the doctor. You blush a little at the mention of bruises, a flashback of a couple nights ago popping up in your head.

His big hands, roaming your body, coming to rest on your hips and squeezing them tightly as he pulled you onto his cock desperately.

The doctor’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts immediately.

“Correct, vitamin K deficiency does increase risk of bleeding and bruising but the levels were healthy so nothing of concern there. I would recommend taking supplements for the time being for your vitamin A, B12 and D as well as your prescribed iron tablets. Overall, everything else was at healthy levels.”

You nod once again, “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be sure to stay on top of that.”

Nanami leans back and slides his arm around your shoulders before you both stand, taking the report and prescription note and leave the doctor’s office, bidding her goodbye.

You slip your hand into your husband’s as you walk through the hallway towards the exit. “I have something else you can stay on top of,” he whispers and bumps his hips with yours.

“Kento!” You whisper at him and lightly smack his firm bicep.

He lets out a chuckle at your reaction, getting so flustered so easily, “On a serious note, I’m glad that we know now how everything’s going with your vitamin intake. It’s definitely peace of mind,” he says as he guides you outside and towards the pharmacy next door.

“It is. I wouldn’t have really thought to pursue it myself but I’m grateful you suggested it,” you interlace your fingers through his as you feel gratitude for having him in your life. He’s so caring and also such an adult. Though you laugh about his seriousness sometimes, you’re also grateful that he’s so mindful of things like vitamin intake.

He ushers you to step inside the pharmacy first — as he always does, ever the gentleman — and you lead the way to the vitamin aisle. Stopping at one section of the many shelves, you peruse the array of vitamins before you, and Nanami is quick to pick one of each that you needed, up. “These have the highest milligrams, so they’ll be the most effective.”

“You’re right,” you nod, and you spot a little pill box, segmented for each day of the week. “Would it make me a total grandma if I got one of these?” You ask your husband, looking to him attentively.

“Not at all. They can certainly help with keeping a routine of…” a little smirk curls at the corner of his lips, lowering his voice to a hush, “staying on top of things.”

You try not to smile but you can’t help it so you pout instead to hide it, “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” You ask rhetorically and he laughs softly. You both grab the appropriate vitamin bottles and carry them to the counter where you also pick up your prescription iron tablets.

When you get home, you both wash up and change into your comfy home clothes and get started on making lunch together. You sauté some onions as the base of the soup you were making while he chops up some fresh herbs for a tasty couscous salad. “Can you pass me the chilli flakes, my love?”

He grabs the little spice container and steps over, holding it out for you. You try to take it but he holds onto it and dips his head to kiss your knuckles. It’s a small act but one that makes your heart flutter and your lips curl into a smile.

Once lunch is had and you’re cleaning up together, he finishes washing up while you put away the leftovers, dancing to the soft music you had playing.

“I could do with a nap right now,” you yawn, feeling full from lunch.

He lets out a small laugh, “You definitely need to take those vitamins, darling.“

“I know, I know, doctor’s orders. I will. But I also want to have a little siesta,” you tell him while he dries off his hands, “come nap with me for like 20 minutes. You know how effective it is for our bodies to have a nap midday?”

“I’m well aware, yes,” he smiles and lets you drag him into the bedroom where you crawl into the bed and hold up the comforter. You climb in together and you burrow yourself against him, pushing your leg between his, eyes fluttering shut.

He rubs your back gently as he settles down himself, fingers starting to trace lazy patterns across your back. “I love you so much, Ken,” you murmur, eyes still closed, “you’re so good to me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you more, honey. You deserve the world, so I’m going to do my best to give it to you,” his soft voice and kind words makes your bottom lip tremble a bit.

“You do. I want to give you the world too,” you whisper.

“You are my world,” he affirms.

“Ugh, stop trying to out-romance me,” you whine quietly and you both laugh softly.

Sleep overcomes you and you have what was probably one of the top 5 best naps of your life. You wake up to find the sun setting slowly, creating a beautiful orange hue through the room. You stretch like a cat and roll over, finding Nanami sat up and reading a book about Malaysia.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hi, Mr. Redbull,” you quip and he chuckles. You tap the book, “You want to go back again?”

“Yes, at some point, I would love that,” he nods and smiles to himself as he reminisces about your honeymoon together there, from which you’d returned 6 months ago. It was incredible there, a truly dreamy place which couldn’t be described as you’d have to see it in person to grasp the beauty.

“We’ll definitely visit again someday,” you promise and he hums in agreement.

“Maybe next time, we’ll have children to take there. I bet they’d love the beach,” he says casually, setting the book aside.

You’d talked about children plenty of times — the suggestion to get blood tests being a preparation for taking that step — but it was the softness of his suggestion, of taking your hypothetical children to one of his favourite places on the planet…it warmed your heart.

“Definitely. When we have children, we will absolutely take them to Malaysia.”

Later that evening, you find Nanami stood at the kitchen counter, carefully putting the vitamins into your new pill box.

You walk over and lean your elbows onto the counter as you watch him.

Once he’s satisfied that you have one of each vitamin in each segment, he closes it up. A thought clouds your mind and you bite your lip. “Baby, I think I need some more vitamin D,” you tell him with a serious face.

His brows furrow a little as he looks to you, “I put one vitamin D in each day, honey, that should be more than enough.”

You shake your head. “No, I definitely need more vitamin D,” you sigh exasperatedly and he watches you carefully.

“Sweetheart, you really don’t need more than one a day,” he explains gently. You almost break character to laugh but you manage to keep a straight face.

“But what if I want it multiple times a day?” You ask him, eyes glinting with mischief.

He catches on at this and his face relaxes, eyes becoming hooded, pulling you closer to him. “I see. You do know the risks of taking so much vitamin D, don’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll turn into the sun,” you muse and he lets out a laugh, lips ghosting over yours.

“You will certainly be glowing like the sun once I put a baby in you,” he murmurs and you feel a shiver go through your body, straight to your core.

“Ken…” you sigh softly, hands trailing up his big arms and grasping his triceps as he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You hum against him as he crowds you against the counter, one hand planted on it and the other coming up to cup your jaw while his lips are locked with yours.

His thumb gently caresses your cheek, letting out a soft moan against you as you press your tongue against the seam of his lips and push your hips into his. “Hm…turn around, honey.”

Oh.

You feel your clit throb at the lowness of his voice, his direct order, and how your wetness pools at your core. You break the kiss and he immediately grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head, revealing your bare breasts. He connects your lips briefly again, not being able to help himself from cupping your breast in his hand and teasing your nipple. Reluctantly, he breaks away and guides your hips to turn you around.

With you bent over the counter, he steps up behind you, his lips trailing over your cheek, down your jaw, and over your shoulder while his hands roam your body, thumbs hooking inside the waistband of your pants and underwear and slowly dragging them down, down, down.

You feel the air hitting your bare ass and thighs as he pushes your clothing off, letting the bunched fabric fall down the rest of the way from your knees.

He continues to kiss his way over your back, hands massaging your hips and up your sides to cup both your breasts. The feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin, and his lips tenderly pressing kisses down your back makes your insides tingle with electricity. “My pretty wife,” he hums as he kisses your lower back and crouches down on the floor behind you, sliding his hands down your sides and hips, over your outer thighs and finally coming to rest on your ass.

He grasps the flesh with a grunt, the sound making you clench. You can’t help but let out soft mewls at the feeling of his large, strong hands groping your ass, his hot lips blazing a trail of fire all the way down. You push your hips back against his hands and he hums appreciatively, spreading your ass and groaning deeply at the sight of the wetness waiting for him.

“S’this all for me, sweetheart?” He sighs, deciding not to waste another moment and plants his lips onto your lower ones. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of it, being thrown into the deep end, but this — his beautiful, skilled mouth on you — was absolutely not something you’d protest against.

“O-Oh! Y…mmm…yes, all for you, Ken,” you mewl as you hold onto the counter, feeling his hot tongue lap at your puffy folds. He drags his tongue up and down, gathering your juices and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He fucking loves this. Loves having his face buried against you, eating you out from behind.

You find your hips rocking slowly on their own accord, back to meet his sinful tongue, when he sucks on your clit and pulls a lewd moan from you. “A-ah, mmh…” the sound of which makes his cock throb with need.

The man is a multitasker, you know this. While he’s busy pushing his tongue into your entrance, making you grip the counter tighter, you hear him fumbling with opening his pants. You turn your head to look back and are met with the delicious sight of him fisting his thick cock. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, honey,” he sighs before he’s pushing his tongue into you again. Your head falls forward as the pleasure takes over your body. He’s tongue fucking you like his life depends on it, groaning against you while he’s fucking his fist at the same time.

He buries his face against you with a low groan, squeezing his dick, darting his tongue in and out of you before he drags it up over your clit and licks a thick stripe along the cut of you.

Your legs quake a little at how he’s tending to your body so attentively, but you manage to keep yourself steady. He slides his free hand around you, his fingers locating your clit with expert precision within milliseconds. This action turns you on even more, the arousal rushing through your body and your pussy gushing with wetness because of how well he could map your body.

He notes the extra wetness on his tongue and he lets out a low hum of approval, slowly circling your throbbing clit with the pads of his fingers. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” He croons against you, taking his fingers away to wrap his lips on your clit and suck attentively. Your gasp and your back arches, one hand automatically going back to thread into his hair.

“Hhhh…mmph…” you keen, your ability to form proper sentences compromised from your husband’s ministrations on your body.

“Use your words for me, honey,” he smirks against you as he continues to devour you, lapping, sucking, fucking, and enjoying the delicious taste of you, inching you closer to the edge.

“Ken…” you whine, “I’m— I’m gonna cum...” You tug on his hair, mussing it up, pushing your hips against him desperately. He becomes sloppier then, and you pant, feeling the mess trickling down your inner thighs.

He fucks his tongue into you a few more times, and then suddenly the waves of pleasure wash over your body, overwhelming your senses. Your inner walls clench, wetness leaking from you, as you let out dirty moans of Kento’s name.

He jerks himself off at the sound of you, the feeling of you cumming, but he stops before he can reach his peak. His moans reverberate through you, the vibrations of them only adding to your pleasure; you lean over the counter, catching your breath as he laps your juices up eagerly, not sparing a drop.

When he’s cleaned you up with his tongue, he kisses his way back up your body, hands roaming over your shorter frame, coming to rest on the softness of your breasts. It’s like he can’t touch you enough, like he wants to touch you everywhere, all at once. You stand back up and lean into him, head falling onto his shoulder so you can kiss him. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your neglected ones sparks the fire in you once again, the butterflies in your tummy stirring to life.

He slowly turns you to face him while you share deep, long kisses. You grip the hem of his t-shirt and pull it up over his head, his arms lifting to accommodate the swift movement. Your arms slide around his waist and you cling to him as he holds you. “You’d better give me that vitamin D now,” you tell him with a warning tone.

He releases a soft chuckle, breaking away from you to stretch over the counter and grab your pill box, “They’re right here, hon.”

You flick his nipple in response and he feigns being hurt before both of you laugh. Your joined laughter quietens down however when you wrap your hand around his thick, leaking cock, and pump him slowly while you gaze into his eyes.

He’d been with you for years, married for half of one, but he knew that he’d never, ever, get tired of that salacious look that you gave him when you wanted him.

He wets his lips as he returns your longing gaze, and he lets out a quiet, “Fuck, sweetheart…” while you thumb his slit and tease the sensitive underside of his tip.

Your hand falls away when he crouches down a few inches and lifts you easily, placing you on the kitchen counter. You watch as his cock bobs up and down from this swift movement. Instantly, your legs fall open and you use the heels of your feet to pull him towards you; the need to have him inside you was becoming unbearable.

You felt the emptiness within you, the deep, carnal desire to have him fill you and stretch you out.

He crushes his lips against yours again, sighing, “You keep looking at me like that, baby, and I’ll cum too soon.”

You whimper against his lips, feeling him nudging the fat head of his cock along your folds, teasing your swollen bud before trailing down to your quivering entrance that was desperate to be filled.

His tongue tangles with yours, your hands gripping onto his broad shoulders as he presses his tip into you and slowly pushes his hips forward.

You bite on his lip, breath catching when he pushes past the ring of resistance. He doesn’t go far before he’s drawing his hips back and then thrusting into you again shallowly. A whine escapes you while he’s working you open on his delicious cock, taking his time to make sure you’re adjusted to his girth.

He rolls his hips steadily, dipping his head and wrapping his lips around the taut peak of your nipple, sucking eagerly. At this, your cunt greedily sucks him in more and he moans to your skin, fucking into you more, and then he slides all the way home, bottoming out inside your snug walls. Your face twists in pleasure, eyes rolling back in your head. He stays there for a moment, his pubic bone flush against yours.

“So damn perfect,” he murmurs, and your walls flutter around him in response. This earns a deep groan from him and he draws his hips back and starts to fuck into you harder.

You brows knit together and you inhale sharply as you feel the heavy drag of him inside you, how he pulls out so that only the fat head of him stays inside, and how he thrusts back into you completely, feeding you every inch of his delicious cock.

Your legs are locked around his hips but with each deep thrust from him, your mind becomes hazy and your legs loosen up a little. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he noses your neck and keeps a steady pace, the wet thump, thump, thump of his hips hitting yours filling the kitchen.

Your mouth falls open and your body becomes a little lax, your breaths coming out shakily as you focus on the pleasure coursing through your body while he impales you on his cock repeatedly. “Feels s-so…so good, baby…making me feel s-so good,” your voice comes out breathy and high pitched, to which his dick twitches while he’s fucking into you.

He’s thorough in his approach while you hold onto his neck for balance, and he’s stimulating every part of your beautiful body: lips locked, tongues tangled, fingers rolling your hard nipple between them, his other fingers teasing circles on your throbbing clit, and his cock stretching you out so delightfully that you can only let out pornographic moans.

You’re both panting against each other’s lips as he picks up the pace and thrusts into you faster, with abandon. He rests his forehead against yours, cheeks flushed. “God— I fucking love you… n’ I love fucking you…” his low voice, his words, they go straight to your cunt.

He takes his hands from your nipple and clit, sliding one arm under your waist as he bows over you more, the other hand gripping your hip in a bruising hold. “Ken…” you moan, “you’re gonna m…make me bruise…”

It’s not so much a protest but more a statement. “Damn right I am…you n’ I both know you love when I mark you up,” he husks, his lips connecting to your neck and sucking a dark mark onto your pulse point, bucking his hips into yours harder, eager to make you cum on his cock.

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, a sight which he goes crazy for. He’s getting closer to the edge, his mind hazy from how your pussy is greedily sucking him in, enveloping him in your tight warmth every time he slides home.

You mewl, holding onto his shoulder as he ravages your cunt, letting out shaky breaths while you bring your gaze down to watch the sensuous way his cock would sink into your wet cunt over and over again. You both love watching because it adds to the pleasure, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge from it.

“Ken…” you moan, bringing your gaze to his at the same time he looks up to meet yours. He almost cums from that so far gone, cockdrunk look in your eyes, but he manages to keep it at bay for a little longer.

“Look so damn beautiful taking me like this, sweetheart,” he croons, “give it to me, baby. Cum for me.” A few more pounds of his hips and you’re pushed over the edge, like your body was waiting for his instruction.

You cry out when your orgasm hits you, walls pulsing so tightly around him that he slows down to feel every clench properly. Your legs quake, and you lock them higher up his hips as your body convulses from the strength of your orgasm.

Wetness coats his lower abdomen— he lives for getting messy with you like so— and he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release while he guides you through yours.

He grabs one of your legs and pushes it up, using it as leverage to fuck into your heat faster. “Cum in me, Ken…wanna make a baby with you,” you sigh, eyes hooded as he pounds into you.

He felt like an animal in that moment but your breathy voice, your words, the tight grip of your cunt on him suddenly all overwhelms his senses and he falls into the throes of bliss with a loud groan, crashing his lips to yours as he releases his hot ropes inside you, painting your walls white.

You cling to each other, sharing open mouthed, dirty kisses. Your plush walls milk him dry, and he stays inside you, your juices and his cum seeping out around him as you both catch your breaths.

“Wanna make a baby, huh…” he pecks your lips a few more times before gazing down at you properly.

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod, kissing him again.

“Hm…we better get more practice in, then.”

You squeal when he picks you up all of a sudden, still inside you, and carries you into your bathroom, quickly turning on the water in the shower and stepping inside with you.

“Wh— Kent—oh!” You moan the second syllable of his name as he presses you up against the wall and starts to fuck into you again.

There was something so dirty, so sinful about how he was fucking his cum into you, how insatiable he was from the mere mention of getting you pregnant.

It’s like a switch had been flipped; you gasp when he takes your legs and pushes them up, pinning you by dangling your legs over the hinge of his arms and holding you in that bent position against the wall with his strong arms.

The water runs over both of your sweaty bodies, the small enclosure of the shower only accentuating his low grunts and the loud smacks of your hips colliding. He is truly animalistic, rutting his hips into yours, pounding into your cunt desperately, because nothing made him harder, nothing made him more feral for you than the idea of making a family with you.

You hadn’t had much time to come down from the high of your first orgasm — neither had he — so it’s not long again before another orgasm is creeping up on the both of you.

“I’m close, Ken, mm…” you clutch onto his broad frame, bringing your lips to his in a needy kiss.

“Me too, honey,” he pants against your lips, “cum with me.”

The base of his cock grazes your clit and his balls slap against your ass with each punishing thrust into you, and you let out a cry from the sudden intensity of the orgasm that overcomes you.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Kento’s voice is strained as he keeps fucking into you but his hips stutter because your pussy is gripping him so tightly he can’t even think straight.

Tears sting at your eyes because you’ve cum so hard, and when he sees this, he feels himself start to cum again. This time, he slows down, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he buries his face into your neck and releases his hot load into your waiting cunt.

“Honey…” he breathes out, and you run your nails gently over his muscled back, kissing his temple. “I love you so much,” he mumbles tiredly, spent, but knowing he couldn’t put you down yet because you wouldn’t be able to stand.

You cup his face in your hands as you sigh contently, and bring his face to yours to kiss him once again, “I love you more, you animal.”

He lets out a quiet laugh to your lips, “Can you blame me?”

It’s about 6 weeks later that you find yourself sat on the toilet, peeing on a couple of tests. There had been a noticeable change in your body, you felt with certainty that something was different. That and, of course, your period being late.

You finish peeing and clean up after putting the tests on the counter. You dry your hands and inhale a deep breath while you wait, peeking but not expecting anything because the time hadn’t finished yet.

But there it was. Two lines in BOLD, on the cheap one, and an affirmative ‘Pregnant’ on the other. You blink at the confirmation and let out a laugh; you’d heard about this before, how tests can show up quicker than expected if the pregnancy hormone is extremely high. He had knocked you up, alright.

You’re elated. His dream, your dream, of having a family, it was becoming reality. You slip out of the bathroom and into the living room, where he was reading.

“I think I need to get some other vitamins, my love,” you tell him as you sit next to him and slide your arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder over his shirt.

He brings his gaze to you. “But the doctor said that your levels for everything else were healthy, sweetheart…?”

He sees the way that your eyes sparkle and he relaxes a little. “Well…I think we need to revisit the doctor. I’m going to need some folic acid.”

He blinks at you; it clicks immediately. The joy that spreads across his expression is undeniable, “Honey…you’re…you’re pregnant?”

Divider by cafekitsune

5K notes · View notes

planetsage · 2 months

Note

FHUCK MEEEE i need like semi-public sex with dom!choso he’s like on my mind 24/7 uhm

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪴 PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚

<- SAVE ?

ADD A COMMENT

contains. 2k words + nsfw so, minors do not interact. f!reader, dom!cho, boxer!cho, established relationship, blood, sweat, semi public sex, locker room sex, f rec oral, a little ass eating (if you squint), spit, hair pulling, dirty talk, breeding, overstim, creampie, biting, cum eating.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; an age-old tradition that’s been torched down from talent to talent said to preserve testosterone, aggression, and most importantly, the drive to win.

it makes sense. not only on the physical side of things, but mentally. discipline — “if a player can’t handle a month or 20 days without having relations, then he’s not really ready to be a professional.”

although choso knew of this prior to becoming a fighter, his coach never actually brought it up to him until you were sat with big child-like eyes, pupils dilated as if trying to drink in every little detail, watching your amateur boyfriend practice for the first time.

it felt like a world of its own with choso sitting atop it on a blood-stained throne. the smell of leather and sweat suffused through the large dome-shaped gym, dull thuds and thumps of fists hitting bags, feet screeching sounding over music.

shirtless, choso’s muscles pumped and flexed as glossy sweat trickled down his temples, merging into rivulets that traced the contours of his face before dripping off his chin and down, down, down his battered body; each quick movement sent salty droplets flying, making dark, little circular marks on the mat.

his arms and core clenched, causing his thick biceps to swell, veins prominent beneath flushed skin like flowing riverbeds; his abs rippling with every rapid punch. the rigid meat of his heavy thighs bulged through black nylon shorts as he hopped around fluidly. dancing. it was truly hypnotic.

about halfway into his practice, you found yourself slightly tilting your head to the side in confusion as his coach moved to point at you.

me?

choso seemed annoyed, running a taped hand through his sweat-ridden hair. then he nodded before they both dispersed to start another round of sparring.

“he said i can’t fuck you anymore”

choso’s wet body clung tightly to your previously dry one, making a sticky connection as he squirted a stream of electrolyte-mixed water from a bottle he clutched with thick hands into his scarred mouth. his usually pink lips were a little red. swollen and plumped, making them jut out, begging to be kissed by your softer ones.

and he was exhausted, visibly. his body sagging when he practically mounted you as soon as he finished practicing, the musky, almost primal scent emitting from him filling your senses in a heady wave as he whined and pouted over his coach’s orders when you asked what had been said earlier, handing him a fresh towel.

“he went full authoritarian on me,” he roughly scrubbed his flushed face with the cloth before dragging it over and around his arms, then abs letting the cotton soak up his sweat, “said we can’t do anything … its so stupid, i’ve done research on it, y’know. it’s a myth”

he rambled on and on, his voice soaked in frustration, bringing up the hundreds of articles he scoured. the way he animatedly swung his arms around, bloodied lip, and still damp with sweat, made you giggle.

you leaned in to gently press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “hey, it’s okay,” you hummed soothingly, contrasting his outburst, “it’s only just before a fight. it can’t be that bad, right?”

and it wouldn’t be.

if choso’s feelings for you didn’t border obsession. he physically can’t go over a day without stuffing your pussy full of his gooey cum and he’d be dammed if some dumb ‘tradition’ that lacked the backing of science stopped him from fucking his pretty girl.

so here you are. embarrassingly parting your sticky folds with meek fingers, revealing your glossy pussy to eager, purpled eyes in the dim back corner of a stuffy locker room.

approximately … thirty seven minutes until choso’s fight.

after a verbal beating from his coach, he was, unwillingly, forced to abstain; forced to spend weeks on edge around you, to not so much as brush a finger against your soft skin because he’d get hard and shoot out hot cum untouched. and he was so close to being successful, too, but he swore he’d lose with how full and heavy his fat balls felt, nudging you into the locker room with empty promises of being “so quick”.

“just need ta taste my baby first,” his voice came out in a heavy whisper as he licked up the fat of your inner thighs, the cooled air of the cramped room circulating and brushing against your achy clit making you flinch, “poor thing .. you missed me too, hm? missed my mouth, pretty?”

“choso hur—”

“shh. ‘m not talkin’ ta you ‘m talkin’ ta her,” he was undividedly staring at your pussy as if trying to commit the filthy imagine of it leaking, clenching around nothing to memory before he rubbed the tip of his flushed nose against your pretty clit, nuzzling into that addictive scent he had been yearning for for what felt like decades.

that said, he was still taking his sweet time.

pressing almost petty pecks to your sensitive thighs, humming out a singsongy ‘aaahh’ before biting into them, leaving fresh pretty marks now that all the old ones have faded. fidgeting on his knees, probably bruising them as he drug his pudgy bulge against the tiled floor until he’s finally, finally moving to lick a long, slow stripe up your pussy, making your hips sputter and buck up against his face.

he’s so loud and messy.

eating you like he’s been starved because, well, technically, he has, “mmmmmm tas’ so fuckin’ good baby. missed— mmhhm havin’ you on my tongue”

cradling your clit with his puffy lips to firmly suck up and drool back out. viscous spit slips out from your pussy, leaving the bench all wet and sticky, so he pauses. because it’s rude to leave messes, shifting his attention from your sloppy hole to drag his tongue on the cold metal bench and clean it all up. the wet muscle brushing, slipping past your ass, making you yelp.

“choso please— hur— hurry. you’re gonna be late” with balled fists you push against his head, musing his inky black hair and if it had been under any other circumstances, he would’ve punished you for interrupting his meal. but he was going to be late, twenty three more minutes and god knows how many rounds it’s gonna take to empty his balls, so he lets you glide all over the thin ice.

just this once.

“fuck, baby, let me fuck that pussy from the front” choso stands up to shove his now tight shorts down to his ankles, his cock springing out, eagerly slapping against his stomach as precum dribbles onto his chest. “always cum so fast when m’ lookin’ at that pretty face”

he wraps his hand around his shaft to move and press his chubby tip against your little hole, scribbling all over it with a hum before leaning to spit a fat bubbly glob onto your needy pussy.

a pretty whine escapes you as you softly lift up your hips begging him to just slip it in, “quit actin so needy, ‘m riiighht here” dragging out his words, he sloowwwly lets his cockhead sink past your folds, whining at how fucking tight you are.

he missed his pretty pussy so much. so, so much.

“fuck, ‘s so big” it’s been a while since you’ve felt the stretch of his cock molding your walls to fit him making tears swell and clump up in your curled lashes as you fling your arms around the slope of his shoulders before you’re shoving your face into the side of his warmed neck.

but he said he needs to see that pretty face, so he’s quickly moving to grab a fist full of your hair, roughly pulling you back by your scalp as you squeal, your mouth falling open to let in and out deep shaky breaths, “look at me”

and he holds you there, forcing you to stare into his darkened eyes as he fully bottoms out to bully his plump, heavy cock up into you. giving you the messiest, most feral strokes. losing his mind in your pretty pussy, already twitching inside you, spilling out pearls of precum that kiss your spongy g spot.

you can’t even moan. just weakly whimpering out broken cries of his name, ”so— ch— cho ssso” as he drags his cock against your gooey walls, his left hand thumbing at your sensitive clit sparking big tears to slip down your cheeks, your eyes hazing over, starting to slip up .. and go back just a little revealing porcelain white, then a little mor-

“i said fuckin’ look at me”

he jerks your head around like some doll; again, forcing you to stare up at him as he knocks the wind out of you with every snap of his waist. and he looks dazed. his hair is messy, mussed, and tossed to his shoulders as sweat catches a few strands to curl up and stick to his temples. he’s almost pink, flushed with so much fever, fucking into your sloppy pussy as he growls, “theeeree you go. ‘m so close, baby— shit. want me to fill that pretty pussy, huh? want me to— fuuuckk pump you full of my cum? hm?”

but his feral growls start to turn into pretty little saccharine whimpers as he gets closer and closer, sputtering his rose-skinned hips, “yeah cho. give it to me— haaa mmm, wan’ it all. fill me up”

“you wan’ it all?” his grip on your hair grows tighter, vice-like, as he mocks your needy little tone with a breathy chuckle, “want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? knock you up then go knock that fucker out?”

bobbing up and down dumbly, you nod, his words stringing in one ear and quickly out the other because it’s just so fuckin’ good.

he’s pulling you closer, closer, and closer to that edge he loves to dangle you over. “choso ‘m gonna—”

“i know, mama. can feel it. keep lookin’ at me. give it to me”

with a whimper of his name, your knees crash into each other, your toes curling as white-hot pleasure strikes like thick bolts of lightning behind your eyes.

choso’s pulling them back apart and you almost fall off the bench until he’s wrapping his thicker arms around your body to keep fucking into you, “thereee you goo, mhm. look so pretty like that baby” talking you through it so sweetly as if he’s not overstimulating you. rewiring your brain.

“shi— shit, baby fuckin’ milkin’ me .. gonna— ‘m gonna—”

groaning too loud, his hips stilled as he dumped the heavy buildup of cum into your more than welcoming pussy, his head slumping forward to bite into your shoulder and muffle himself.

he’s filling you up so well, shooting thick ropes into your pretty, satiny walls as he pulses and twitches inside you.

but he’s still so hard.

pulling out to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking himself off, roughly, it looks like it hurts, “stick your, haah fuck, stick your fuckin’ tongue out” griping as his chest caves in and heaves until he’s spilling more hot cum onto your pretty fucked out face.

his head falls back, his body swaying slightly as he catches his breath, his muscles relaxing with a heavy sigh until he leans back down to lick up his sticky mess, making you buzz with warmth, twitching at the feeling of his warm tongue. “hhnngg— choso you have to goo”

oh yeah.

he hums, a smile tugging at his lips against your skin before he reluctantly pulls back, moving to draw up his shorts, “almost forgot about that,” he grabs a handful of his messed hair to pull back up into his trademark buns, “i’ll be quick, baby. still got the taste of my good luck charm on my tongue”

not even an hour later, before you can completely clean yourself off and find your bearings, a deafening lion-like roar surges from the full crowd piercing through the thick walls of the locker room. your head quirks up, and then you hurriedly push through the door, almost jogging into the arena.

there he is.

in the center of it all looming over his opponent. the referee pulls up choso’s arm and again; the crowd erupts as the other poor soul winces, crimson-faced, red gloves covering their bloodied expression.

amidst it all, choso’s eyes find yours. he’s licking at the corner of his lips with a knowing smirk.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; all expect the biggest rising rookie choso kamo.

4K notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 4 months

Text

babies.

husband!steve harrington x wife!reader

summary: you finally tell steve that you’re ready for a baby.

includes: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, not really a daddy kink but he refers to himself as daddy lol, mating press, creampie, unprotected p in v

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Hang on— what did you say?”

Steve felt as if he was dreaming, completely delirious, struggling to stay on his feet when his knees started to buckle.

He clutched a quivering palm to his chest, as if in attempt to quell his heart, but nothing could sate the thick thumping that barrelled through his rib cage.

You smiled at him, a small, impish one that made his eyelids flutter and you stepped closer, smoothing your hands along his shoulders before resting upon the thickness of both biceps, squeezing only slightly— just for your benefit, of course.

You knew it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear for a long while, so you spoke slowly, hoping the few words you spoke would register properly.

Because this was real. Such a big step, something that Steve had always dreamt of, but you not quite. It took a good few years for you to succumb to the idea of raising kids; a pretty house and a small wedding— even a few cats roamed around your home, so you knew that something was missing, something you now wanted desperately in your life.

“I want to try for a baby, Steve.” You spoke, watching his doe eyes grow even rounder, little tears threatening to ebb while he felt all melty and gooey, moving forward to shakily cup your cheeks and bring you closer towards him.

Steve nuzzled his nose against yours, sighing out a big breath and sponging a sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t know what to say, honey, I’m—” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his thumbs lazily circling the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy.”

—

So, the two of you fucked like rabbits— for hours and hours, multiple times a day, the mere feeling of his raw length inside you had you creaming around him in minutes, and it was much akin for Steve, the soft, gummy walls of your cunt squeezing around him with no barrier between the two of you.

It felt like heaven.

Steve had insisted that you both have sex as regular as you could, the need to have you pregnant, to make it stick, needed to be quenched, and you nodded along like the doting little wife you were.

“My pretty honey,” he cooed, pressing your knees firmly against your heaving chest, holding you in a mating press whilst he fucked his thick cock into your spasming pussy.

Sweat beaded along his hairline, breathless from his hard thrusts— he had already came inside of you three times that same day, however you knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw those two red lines that told him what he’d wanted to hear.

“Gotta give you my babies, don’t I, hon?” He uttered, moaning breathily into the stuffy air— his full, round balls smacking against your ass with every inward thrust, so full of cum and ready to breed. “Gotta be thorough now, baby— want you nice ‘n’ round.”

He was babbling, words slurring into something almost nonsensical— his pretty lips sponged at any piece of skin he could find, mouthing and suckling with a desperation that shone in his honeyed eyes.

Your pussy practically sucked him in, letting his ruddy tip nudge at the spot so deep inside you, that had you clenching and fluttering.

“Fuck, jus’ wanna be a daddy so bad,” he whined, “and once we have our first, we’ll have another, and another, and another— oh fuck.”

He was fisting the pillow underneath your head, muscles drawn tight, trying so hard to keep his eyes open and not let them flutter closed— trying hard to keep his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, honey baby,” he sighed with a smile, still thrusting as deep as he could, his thumb moving to rub at your clit. “You’ll still be daddy’s best girl— daddy’s favourite, I’ll make sure of it.”

You whined. He was so filthy, so crude, as soon as his big dick would slip inside of you he’d be gone, so stupid, completely pussy drunk. Silly boy.

“You ready for it, hon?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “ready for my cum, pretty girl?”

You nodded, uttering a small ‘yes, Stevie’ through a moan and a sigh, clenching hard and quivering around him, ready to cum yourself.

The sheer need to be filled had you delirious.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up— gonna put a sweet baby in that pretty tummy of yours,” he hummed, “that sound good?”

“Sounds s’good, Stevie,” you whined, struggling to keep hold of your legs, your limbs shaky when you tried to keep your knees pressed against you. “Wan’ it so bad, want your cum— want your babies.”

He nodded fervently, hair whipping in every which way, dick throbbing in you hotly, the taut veins pulsing with every inward thrust— so, so close and ready to burst.

“I know ya do, hon— you ready to take it? You ready to take another load, baby?” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, thrusts turning sloppy and erratic, “I know you’re so full, can barely fit anymore cum inside this poor pussy, huh?”

“Can take it, Stevie,” you spoke, fluttering your lashes, your lips all pouty and pink, “promise.”

And with one, two, three thrusts, he stilled inside of you, so deep, tip kissing your cervix before shooting his thick, pearly ropes of cum inside you, hoping to fill you with his Harrington prodigy, to make all the babies he could wish for.

Steve kept your legs raised, pulling them from your chest to place above his shoulders, keeping your back arched.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered, stroking at your calf before pressing a little kiss to your ankle. “think this is the one, honey.”

#Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington hc #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things blurb #joe keery x reader #joe keery smut #joe keery imagine

3K notes · View notes

hyuny-bunny · 5 months

Text

skz + types of p*rn they watch (w/links) pt 1. hyung line

MDNI (+18) content warning: p*rn, nsfw links, mentions of rough sex, use of female anatomy, breeding, spanking, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving) most afab reader terms.

a/n: if the links are not working for you, you may need the app as most are not compatible with a web browser

pt 2. maknae line

chan: he's definitely watching twitter/x porn. as for what side of x he's on all depends on the mood. he definitely seems to stay on a more "vanilla" side. probably has a keen interest on size kink and breeding videos. but what they all have common is riding. it gets him so riled up seeing ones shot in cars because the next time he sees you it's all he thinks about. he'd love nothing more then to have you riding his dick, his hands holding your hips in place, eventually snacking a hand to lightly you choke and bunching your skirt in the other hand while you sloppily bounce on his cock. maybe he's taking you out to a nice dinner & movie but once your back in that car he's practically begging you to sit on his cock.

"baby, i need you so bad. come here, ride me, need to feel this pretty pussy on me."

breeding

riding

minho: there's so many things i could say about him. i don't think he necessarily needs porn to get off or actively looks for it, but i do think he loves being able to send you links that either remind him of the both of yours sexcapades or things he wants to do to you. i feel like he watches a lot of overstimulation, spanking, BREEDING, and just a sprinkle of voyeurism. i think he gets really turned on by the ones of girls in pretty lingerie wearing collars with bells, so every movement makes the bell ring. he almost collapses to his knees when he gets home one day to see you wearing the collar he bought, the one he'd been hiding and waiting for the right moment.

the only thing on your mind is the feeling of your sopping wet cunt being suffocated by minho's cock. he's got a fistful of your hair in hand, pulling you up from your pillow before landing a hard smack on your ass, never letting up on his thrusts.

overstimulation

spanking

changbin: another one in my books that loves size kink porn. not because i think he likes someone smaller, but more so the fact that he likes the feeling of being able to make someone feel so small. in seo changbins biceps, we trust. i think this one in particular will have him pleading with you to let him try it. you might feel reluctant because of any underlying insecurities at the though of feeling like you're "too heavy" (there's so no such thing to him) . it isn't till he's got you lifted up against the wall with no holding you either than his arms & shoulders, his mouth lapping away at your pretty cunt, any worries you ever had dissipated along with your ability to use your words.

"bin-binnie please i-i can't hold on much longer" a string of whines follow suit. he's been at it for a while and you've already had two orgasm but he's relentless. all you can hear are his groans and the squelching sound of his tongue abusing your cunt. he lifts his head up from between your thighs with you hand webbed in his hair, mirroring your worn out lustful look.

size kink

making you feel small

hyunjin: to me, i think hyun goes either of these two ways. he's the most depraved man known to walk this earth that loves it sloppy, messy, wet and downright lustfully filthy. the latter also leads me to believe he's not big on porn, prefers either his imagination or his OWN videos. one he's recorded (with your consent + encouragement) while you've done it together. he needs the passion of either love or the passion of wanting to make the either cum so hard they've gone to heaven (preferably both). if he's watching videos, his favorite ones always have the girl shaking and crying in pleasure by the end. he needs to see the passion, lust to be able to get off. when it's you, it's different, if anything it brings him back to those moments to fully remember the need between the two of you. that being said he's heavy into breeding/cumplay and semi restraining. he loves seeing the hands held behind the back and holding someone in place while they fall apart in his lap + cock.

it was supposed to be a quick kiss, which turned into heavy petting, and now he's brought your leg over his hips. the panties you were wearing discarded somewhere in the room, one arm is wrapped around you holding you tightly to his chest while his other hand is at work. his middle & ring finger are knuckle deep thrusting into you and he's groaning into your neck sucking hickies in all your favorite spots.

semi restraints

playing w you in his lap

4K notes · View notes

mommypieck · 1 year

Text

⌗︙・showering with jjk men for the first time ⸜⸜・

✿ gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento

gojo

he's confident, he knows he is but he can't help but to feel nervous in this moment. he's trying his best to not get excited because of your body. the water falls on your body, making it look so fucking perfect.

"is this okay?" you ask him as you touch his chest with the wash cloth. he's speechless but he manages to nod at you. you wash his body softly, humming a soft tune as you do so. satoru brushes your hair with his hand, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. you deepen the kiss, sighing into his mouth. he presses his eyes shut, knowing that he's slowly getting excited at the intimacy that surrounds you. you giggle when you step on your tiptoes to wash his hair. he wants to beg you to stop, to stop touching him like this. he doesn't want this to turn into something sexual but it's your fault that you're acting like this. it's your fault that your innocent touches make him think of you in a perverted way.

"if you keep touching me like this, im gonna lose my mind."

geto

"here we go." he says as water starts falling on both of you. he takes the washcloth in his hands and he rubs it on your arms. he dreamed so long about washing you like this, being this intimate.

he massages your shoulder before he drags the washcloth down your arms. he throws his head back, letting droplets of water fall on his face. what he feels his wrong, the thoughts he has right now only belong when he's tangled in a bed with you. his hands stop, he knows that now he has to wash your back, the same back that arched few minutes before.

"maybe you can wash me." he offers and you happily take it. you run the washcloth across his chest while geto looks at you with a dark gaze. he wants to curse the god because this way it's even worse. now he can see your body clearly, every curve of your body plus your smiling face.

"i think we can stop it here, i am not that sweaty." he tries to climb out of the shower but you stop him.

"oh baby, you have no idea what you do to me."

nanami

he tells himself he's not like other guys, being naked with you doesn't make him think of you in a different light. but your soft skin, now wet, is glistening just so perfectly.

"can i wash your body?" you ask him while you wash your arms with the wash cloth. your front is right in front of his eyes and he just wishes that you would just turn around.

"i don't think that's a good idea." he says, trying to avert his eyes off of your body. he almost jumps when your soft hand touching his bicep.

"im sorry, i know you didn't want to do this." you apologize, looking sad and it breaks his heart. he puts the wet wash cloth in your hands, pressing it on his chest so that you can wash him. you smile at the gesture, running your hands across his body.

"not there." he squeaks when your hands meet his lower stomach, grabbing them and throwing them over his shoulder.

"you make me so crazy, sweetheart."

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n

11K notes · View notes

luveline · 7 months

Text

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.

You see both sides of him now.

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.

“Hello,” you call back.

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.

“Shit, you wanna see?”

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.

“Another bat?” you ask.

“Not cool?”

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?”

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.

“You okay?” he asks.

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”

You pull your head up slowly.

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

6K notes · View notes

lovegasmic · 6 months

Note

i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA

⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.

⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷

I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^

there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.

he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’

Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.

it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.

walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.

“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.

“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.

we should hang out soon ;)

and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.

“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.

“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.

“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.

it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.

Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.

“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.

“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”

you swallow, “what are you doing here?”

“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”

“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”

he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.

“tell me what’s wrong”

“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”

“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”

you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.

“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.

“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.

there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”

“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.

“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”

“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.

he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”

reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤

#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru fluff #gojo satoru fluff

3K notes · View notes

vngelicc · 7 months

Text

LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚

TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.

“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.

“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”

You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.

You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.

“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.

This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.

“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.

His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.

He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.

“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.

You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”

Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.

Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.

“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.

You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”

Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.

“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”

You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.

“Because..”

“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”

You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.

“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(

“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.

Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”

Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.

While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.

“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”

You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..

“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.

Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.

“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”

Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.

You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.

“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.

It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.

“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.

“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.

You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”

“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.

You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.

He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”

“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.

“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.

He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.

Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.

“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.

You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.

The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?

“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.

“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.

You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.

“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.

You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”

He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.

“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”

That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”

You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.

He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.

“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”

“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”

You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.

“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.

Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”

His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”

Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”

He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.

You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.

“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”

Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”

“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”

“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.

“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.

He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.

Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.

He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.

You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.

“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.

Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

4K notes · View notes

specsthesecond · 5 days

Text

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀

#monster fucker #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #monster fucking #exophelia #monster boyfriend #terato #minotaur x reader #minotaur x human #Minotaur

2K notes · View notes

mrsbarnesblog · 25 days

Text

I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we’re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening.

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing.

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least.

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it.

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him.

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed.

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels.

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back.

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination.

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear.

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock.

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.”

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back.

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent.

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation.

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too.

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips.

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed.

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy.

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.”

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go.

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar.

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes.

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes.

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness.

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs.

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.”

1K notes · View notes

manhandlememando · 1 month

Text

i’ll beg whatever gods i need to. | cregan stark

cregan stark x f!wife!reader

format: one-shot

tw: MDNI warning (oh boy here we go) in depth descriptions of gore and bodily injury, blood, ANGST, cregan crying and in pain, mentions of religion and praying, hurt/comfort, more angst, angry cregan, insecure!cregan, unprotected piv, oral (both receiving), face riding, cowgirl, breeding kink (duh he’s a stark), uncut cregan. (written in 3rd person POV) (she/ her pronouns)

word count: 5,539

excerpt: Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging anyone who could hear her to please, let him come back to me.

- or -

cregan gets mauled by a direwolf.

song inspirations: youth by Daughter, human by Daughter, i gave you all by Mumford & Sons, heavy in your arms by Florence and The Machine, i found by Amber Run, roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent, work song by Hozier, family tree by Ethel Cain, in the woods somewhere by Hozier, glory by Dermot Kennedy

The hour of the owl came passing over Castle Black, and still Cregan had not returned from his patrol of the Wall. Her worry had grown tenfold, the knot in her stomach was now a heavy stone. She knew something was amiss. Moving from their shared chambers to the corridors of the small castle, she decided a short walk may alleviate some of her anxiety, allowing her to clear her head.

However after only several minutes of beginning to wander, she heard commotion coming from the direction of the courtyard. Yelling and shrieking, men could be heard barking orders at each other, calls for the maester were loud, but the one thing that rose above it all was the most blood curdling roar she’d ever heard. Not wasting any time, she ran through the narrow hallways towards the source of the noise, only to come to a dead stop, the beating of her heart doing the same.

There he lay on a gurney in the middle of the courtyard, thrashing against the hands trying to hold him still. Crying out in agony as the maester tried his best to assess the situation at hand.

“Oh gods…” she gasped when the source of his pain became clear to her. His armor was covered in deep crimson streaks of blood, the leather ripped to shreds revealing the metal beneath. His face, contorted in pain, bore two long gashes from above his right eyebrow and trailing down his temple into his hairline. It seemed as if a deep crimson curtain had been pulled over half of his face as the blood seeped from the deep, jagged cuts. However the worst of his injuries were to his left shoulder, which seemed to be attached only by the grace of the gods. It was so gruesome she began to feel ill. The bone of his upper bicep was exposed, the flesh hanging from it. Blood seeping profusely from the wounds, teeth marks littered his forearm and hands. The fabric of his pants torn and she could see more crescent shaped puncture wounds littered across his legs, and his right ankle was bent at a sickening angle. They were large, belonging to something much bigger than anything she had seen in the North. A direwolf.

A young knight was holding the Stark ancestral sword, Ice, which was now covered tip to hilt in blood. Another man standing next to the knight who bore her husbands sword, stepped towards her.

“My Lady you mustn’t be here, you should not witness this,” he said, trying to block her view of her husband.

“No! No, I must be with him,” she rushed forward, only to be stopped by the strong arms of the guard holding her back.

“Please! He’s my husband, I have to -,” she began to plead with the man keeping her in her place before Cregan’s loud yell stopped her sentence short. The maester and his assistant were beginning to pack his wounds with whatever clean cloth the other men could find, Cregan seemed as if he was trying to pull away. Arching at the contact to his arm and shoulder, neck straining and face red as another scream erupting from deep within him. Tears were streaming down his face as it crumpled into an expression she never thought she’d see from him; fear.

It took two full grown men to hold him still, even in his weakened state, as they began to move him from the damp ground. Although, consequently the motion caused his body to shift and in turn sent him into another fit of agony.

At the sounds of his screams getting even more broken and strangled, her knees fell weak, slumping into the man’s hold as the air left her lungs.

He could die, the thought crossed her mind when she caught a glimpse of the expanse of blood leftover on the muddy ground.

————————————————————————

They had placed him in their bedchamber and the maester had since given Cregan milk of the poppy to calm him. He had been cleaned up and mended as best as the maester and his assistant could manage. They had also taken measures to prevent infection, although they informed her that it wasn’t fail safe and to be prepared for any outcome.

“He will have an incredibly long recovery period… if he survives,” the maester said to her as he wiped his hands of her husbands blood, his voice lowering as he spoke of his Lord’s possible death. She only nodded, eyes wide, feeling as if she was submerged in water. All the words being said to her were muffled and distorted. Some of the men from the Watch had tried to pull her from the bedchambers when they had first begun to work on him, whispering false reassurances and pleading with her to not witness this.

She couldn’t look away from his limp form laying on their shared bed, smothered in white bandages that were slowly blossoming red. However, his torso was somewhat unmarked by the direwolf’s teeth and claws (save for several deep purple bruises beginning to show their full form) due to the steel armored chest piece he had adorned upon her request, just before leaving for his patrol.

This might be his deathbed, she thought to herself. Tears beginning to pool on her lashes.

“I shall leave you. I will return in several hours to replenish the milk of the poppy… if he wakes again,” the maester looked down at the floor in despair. Exiting the room, the maester bid his condolences.

Nearing the bed, she knelt down and lightly took his hand in hers, brushing her lips over his bandaged knuckles and letting out a shaky breath.

“Please, my love you must wake up. Heal well and return to me, do not leave me in this world without you,” she pleaded with the unmoving form in front of her. The tears beginning to fall as she placed her head upon the bed next to their interlocked hands.

She did not pray, she never had found an interest in paying much attention to the new gods or the old. But in this moment she found herself reaching out for guidance as she called upon the gods to help him. Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging any god that could hear her to please, let him come back to me.

————————————————————————

The night dragged on, as if time had been weighed down by the gravity of the situation, and on its continued trek forward it somehow had slowed.

The maester had come and gone twice before, but Cregan had not woken yet. She refused to move from his side the entire time, having wept for hours she now felt empty and void of anything at all.

“My Lady you must eat,” a guard had come in, trying his best to persuade his Lady of the North to eat something or else she would fall ill.

“I am not hungry,” she flatly responded to the young man, whose face fell as he nodded and exited the room.

It was several more hours before Cregan awoke, he was still deep within the fog of the poppy’s milk but he was whispering something. His mouth barely moving, the sound coming out more like a silent prayer than a word.

He spoke her name, breathed it more like. But still, through all the hell he had been through in the last several hours, his mind only fell upon her.

“My love,” she said softly, lifting his hand to her lips once more. “My love, can you hear me?” She asked, but was met with nothing. Cregan drifting back into sleep, leaving her in the silence once again.

He woke like this periodically over the next several days, the maesters visiting every couple of hours to assess his wounds and change his bandages. Still all the while providing him with an ample amount of milk of the poppy to ward off his pain. They were somehow successful in warding off any major infections to the wounds, which was nothing short of a miracle. They had spent hours on different herbal remedies to help the Lord of the North heal without a fever.

As the days passed, she still refused to leave his side. Six days had passed by the time Cregan finally gained enough consciousness to express his pain level.

She had been napping in a chair next to the bed where he lay. Waking suddenly to the sound of a loud, pained groan.

“Cregan!” She gasped, his eyes opened just slightly, and she saw they were bloodshot but open nonetheless. He hissed in pain as she touched his hand.

“What’s happened?” He asks weakly, looking down at the bandages still covering most of his body.

“There was an incident beyond the Wall when you went to patrol the perimeter several days ago. They say you and the men were attacked by a direwolf.” She explains softly. His face drops, his eyes going wide at the memory. With some effort he tried to look down at his left shoulder, and when met with the sight of layers and layers of white bandages, he grimaced.

“I remember,” he whispers. His eyes closing as he inhales deeply, wincing again at the movement. When he opens his eyes again she can see the tears gathered within them.

“I - I cannot feel my hand,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at his left hand once again, his dominant hand.

“I will fetch the maester, it must just be a symptom of the damage caused. They will mend it though, as they have everything else,” she reassured him and stood to leave and get the maester, but they both know her reassurance was empty of any fact.

Worry gripped at her stomach again as the maesters words rang within her ears; “he will have an incredibly long recovery period”.

But what if there was no recovering fully from this? What if he would never be able to wield a sword again? Or walk properly? The thoughts swam in her mind, each drowning out the other.

She returned shortly with the maester, who breathed a sign of relief at the sight of Cregan fully awake.

He tried to offer Cregan more milk of the poppy before he began assessing the healing progression of his injuries, but Cregan refused.

“My Lord, I do not wish to see you in pain. But I must remove the bandages -,” the older man tried to explain, but Cregan cut him off curtly.

“Then do it,” he said, his face stern.

“Cregan, please listen to the maester, this is going to be more painful than you think,” she tried to reason with him, but his jaw was set and so was his mind.

“As you wish, my Lord,” the old healer nodded solemnly, moving to remove the first bandage. Upon contact with his arm Cregan did not grimace or contort in pain, his brows furrowed as if confused.

“I cannot feel it,” he said, his voice sounding far away, as if was in shock at the realization finally setting in.

“What, my love?” She inquired, looking at his arm as the maester began to unwrap more of the white fabric. The stitches were surrounded by bruised skin, what couldn’t be stitched back together was healing under a protective salve the maester had prepared. It will scar badly, but it didn’t matter, they were able to save his arm when she was more than certain he would lose it. As the maester lifted his arm Cregan had no reaction, just staring blankly into space. She was sure he must be in pain but he wasn’t reacting to what the maester was doing whatsoever.

“My darling, are you alright?” She asked him quietly, placing a hand under his chin to turn him to face her.

“I cannot feel anything,” he said, still his voice was hollow.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, not fully understanding what he meant by that.

“In my arm, it does not hurt because I cannot feel it,” he explained finally meeting her eyes. That was where she saw the flicker of fear again come across his face, worry painting his features.

“This is my dominant hand, I must be able to use it whenever necessary. It is the hand with which I wield Ice. But now I am not even able to move it. I am no longer a sufficient warrior… or man,” he said, his voice shaking as tears came to his eyes. The maester gave Cregan a pitiful look that just upset the Lord more.

“No, no that is not true my love,” she rushed to comfort him, cradling his face, making sure to avoid the stitches on his brow and temple.

“Do not do this to yourself, my darling. Do you understand what you have survived? You were attacked by a direwolf, Cregan… and you survived. That is next to impossible, but here you are,” she said, her voice soft and dripping in empathy. Brushing a tear from just under his eye as it began to fall. He shifted his gaze away from her, his eyes hardening again.

“But what good is survival if I am no longer able to live how I am meant to?” He said, still not meeting her eyes.

“It will take some adjustment, but we will get through this. You will get through this,” she assured him.

“Cregan… look at me,” she says quietly, trying to get him to connect with her again and not sink deeper into his darkening thoughts.

“Look at me, now,” she commanded in a more firm tone, which caused him to finally look at her once more, a sheepish expression in his eyes.

“Stop this at once,” she said, still holding her firm tone. He nodded and sighed, knowing he would not win this one. But as he cast his eyes downwards and frowned slightly, she knew he couldn’t be swayed in this moment from the doubt that was consuming him.

This will be a long recovery indeed, she thought to herself.

————————————————————————

About thirteen moons after Cregan had been nearly killed by the direworf, the head of which now hung in the council room, he had recovered quite well by what the maesters had told her.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had since moved back from their residence at Castle Black when Cregan was finally well enough to travel. Although his body was healing well with time, his mind only sunk deeper into the belief he was now not worthy of his station as Warden of The North and the Lord of Winterfell. He had become easily irritated and many days she wished to not spend time with him, however she understood this too shall pass. She had sworn to him in her marriage vows to be by his side through sickness and in health, and she had no intention of breaking those vows in her lifetime.

As the Winter continued on, and as Cregan's strength grew back and the feeling began to make its way back into his limb, he was insistent on beginning his sword work training. She understood his urgency, finally having hope after such a long time of uncertainty was an addicting sort of feeling. It was hard for Cregan to accept that he would have to relearn how to use a sword with this new complication, and not train as he once did, as if nothing had happened.

Once the maester overseeing the Lord's care had cleared him to begin his lessons, she asked him if she would be able to accompany him. He agreed instantaneously, he was going to ask her anyways, feeling much better in her presence than anyone elses.

She busied herself with a book, perching upon several barrels of wine that sat on the edge of the courtyard, waiting to be taken to the cellars. Cregan had begun his lessons, and within minutes was already frustrated at the difficulty he had with even just handling the sword, let alone swinging it. She watched from the distance with a frown painting her face as he continued to struggle and bark at the knight he was sparring when he would try to offer his help. After much protest, Cregan finally gave into the offers to get him a wooden sword to wield instead. It was easier for him to handle, however his skill had rusted over with time and lack of use. His frustration became paramount when the young man bested him again, Cregan threw down his sword and stepped forward, grabbing his opponent by the collar.

"Do you wish to humiliate your Liege Lord?! Get out of my sight at once!" he roared in the mans face, causing him to stumble back and retreat from Cregan as quickly as possible.

She sat watching the scene as her own anger began to surface, standing and coming towards Cregan once he'd let the other man go, still breathing heavily and fuming.

"Come with me, now," she growled as she wrapped a firm hand around his good wrist, pulling him along behind her like a toddler being scolded and hauled off for punishment. She thought it best to bring him to their bedchambers as the conversation they needed to have was private.

Once they had entered their shared chambers Cregan immediately started in on his defense, to which she put up a silent palm in his direction, causing his sentence to halt before it finished.

"I can not do this anymore," she said softly, trying to keep her voice level, but to no avail. Placing a hand over her mouth as she began to silently weep, still refusing to look at him.

He softened immediately at the sight of her tears, hating desperately to make her upset. He took a step forward and brought his hand to her cheek, getting her to turn to him. She did not lift her gaze from the floor, sniffling lightly and trying to keep her tears from cascading and overflowing.

"You cannot do what anymore, love?" Cregan asked gently, moving his right hand to place at the back of her neck, and the other moving under her chin. His fingers intertwined into her hair at the back of her head as he tipped her head back slightly using the finger beneath her chin to raise her face to his. Taking another step closer to her he engulfed her in his size, pressed against her body, in complete control. Cradling her head completely in his hands, he moves the hand below her chin to place on her cheek once more.

"What was it, hmm?" he hummed to her, bringing his lips to brush against hers. She had become putty to mold as he wished, letting out a small sigh as he continued to tease the possibility of a kiss.

But in that moment she remembered her anger and could not let the lust for her husband overpower something that was becoming a serious issue between him and the rest of the world. She pushes away suddenly, putting space between them again. Cregan lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands fall to his sides.

"I can not possibly understand the stress you are under, and the constant unease you must feel within yourself. But I can understand how that affects me, and how that has affected our staff and those on your court. You were not slain, Cregan! You still have so much to live for, even if it means you cannot see battle again. That is what your army is for. Your value lies more in your character and not your physical form. Allowing that of which keeps you on solid ground to be the demise of what lies within your head, when you are so intelligent, and kind, and humorous. That is a sin, and the more treacherous of fates to befall a Warden of the North, even more so than a direwolf." She said, silence filled the room as Cregan realized he had no rebuttal. She was right after all, he could have been killed, and the fact he is allowing his mind to destroy what a direwolf couldn't, well it just seemed downright mad.

"I am so sorry, I never saw it that way," he responded softly, his heart feeling some what heavy in his chest as he felt the onslaught of emotion begin to creep up his throat. He had repressed so much in wanting to keep a certain image, and with his own wife being able to see through his facade so clearly, he realized how much pain he was really holding in. With that thought the dam broke as he let out a choked sob, leaning on the back of a chair closest to him he began to fall weak to his emotions.

At the sound of his whimper she turned around again, seeing him holding the bridge of his nose as he wept uncontrollably. Barely keeping himself upright with the back of the chair next to him.

"Oh, my darling," she went to him, quickly gathering him into her arms and bringing him down to kneel on the ground as she sat in the chair he was using for support. With his head tucked to her breast and his arms tightly wound around her body, hands finding purchase in her hair, he finally began to rack with sobs. She just let him collapse into her, stroking the hair from his face, tracing the scar on his temple and kissing his hairline. All the while cooing sweet reassurances into his ear.

"I have you my love, I have you," she whispered into his hair as he began to regain his breath. Not letting her go in the slightest, but relaxing nonetheless, Cregan began to breathe normally again, silent tears still coming from his eyes every now and then.

But he knew he was safe, and above all, he knew he was loved unconditionally.

————————————————————————

“Cregan, we cannot you aren’t healed properly yet,” she breathed out in a sigh as his lips traced the column of her throat.

“Your shoulder… and your ankle, it is too risky,” she tried to protest but the affect he had over her was undeniable.

“I am fine, my love. I am in need of my wife. It has been many moons and I cannot refrain any longer, injuries be damned,” he said, scoffing at the last part of his statement. Her skin was set alight with his touch as she leaned into him more. Laying in their bed, beneath a mountain of furs, he began to move atop of her, but she stopped him.

“If we are to do this, you will not lift a finger, is that clear?” She said firmly, and Cregan’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his wife’s sudden dominance, his cock twitching within his small clothes. He nodded quickly as he moved to lay back against the many pillows, eyes darkening as she rose from the bed to lean back on her heals. Very slowly she removed her shift, revealing the whole of her body to him.

“It is as if you are a goddess yourself, there is no need for religion when you are the alter I pray at, and the deity I pray to,” he whispered as he took in the sight. His mind putting to memory every curve, every inch of skin he laid his eyes on. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before, but after such restraint it is like they are newlyweds once again. With her help he removed his tunic and small clothes, breath shaky as he looked down upon her naked form crawling up his body.

She was gentle with her touch, ghosting it over the small scars that now cover each of his legs. He shivers at the contact but does not pull away, allowing the sensitivity to wash over him and settle within his groin. He reaches with his good arm to touch her face, but she retracts to his disappointment.

“No touching,” she said with a small smirk forming at the corner of her lips. The mischievous look in her eyes was enough for him to understand it would be better to not protest. Leaning down she places soft kisses across his thighs, moving closer to his stiff member, his hips buck involuntarily as she finally takes his tip into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the top just before pulling down his foreskin to lick at his sensitive slit.

A groan erupted from deep within his chest, wavering at the end as he gasped and sputtered. She had taken him fully into her mouth at this point, beginning to move up and down his length in a rhythmic motion.

His chest flexed as he threw his head back, his right hand hovering just next to her jaw. Knowing she would stop if he disobeyed her direct instructions, he held himself back from caressing her face. Broken gasps and whimpers were falling unabashedly from the Warden of the North’s lips, his strong, muscled body molding into putty in her hands.

Suddenly she rose and removed her mouth from him, to his disappointment. Breathing hard he kept his eyes on hers as she began to move even further up his body. His brows knitting into one another as he wondered what exactly she was doing, until it clicked, and the biggest smile graced his handsome features. He understood and shifted himself to be fully lying down, moving down the bed slightly to give her room as she moved to take her rightful place on his face. He hummed happily at the sweet taste of her on his tongue once again, having not indulged in his most favorite delicacy in far too long. She let out a sharp gasp as his lips wrapped themselves around her sensitive pearl, sucking lightly before exploring her deeper. She looked down to see his eyes closed and the most blissfully content look upon his face as he continued to ravage her with just tongue. Switching between broad strokes of his tongue along her cunt to small kitten licks upon her clit that had her panting and grinding her hips down onto him. The scruff on his unshaven face added to the sensational feeling against her as he sank his tongue within her finally. Moaning uncontrollably and quite loudly, she found herself leaning against the headboard for support as her body began to give into the pleasure he was bringing her.

“That’s it, my darling. Fall apart for me, I have you,” he coaxed, breath hitting her clit, causing her to groan, which shortly turned into the most obscenely moan. He hooked his left arm around her waist and continued to guide her to completion. With his tongue in her cunt and his nose teasing her clit, she came apart with nothing short of a scream of his name. Throwing her head back as she felt her muscles go limp from the intensity of her orgasm.

“So perfect for me,” he whispers to her, kissing the inside of her thighs softly.

She smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief as she had been just as pent up as he’s been, and finally getting some form of release was euphoric to say the least.

As she moved from his face she could see the way his lips shown with the remnants of her. She looked down to see his cock almost impossibly bigger than when she had first taken him into her mouth. She couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could he. Grabbing ahold of her hips he quickly shifts her down his body back to his waist. The tip catching at her entrance ever so slightly and they both moaned loudly in unison.

With his right hand having an iron grip on her hip, he helped her position her on top of him. As she began to sink down on his length it was as if all the air in the room had suddenly been removed. The sensation punching the air out of her lungs.

Cregan thought he was seeing the gods, his vision almost going completely white as he feels her tight, hot cunt envelope him. Arching his spine while his eyes roll to the back of his head as soon as she is fully seated on him. Staying still for a second to give them both a minute to catch their breath, she regains her strength and begins to shift her hips.

“Touch me,” she commanded softly, he didn’t need to be told twice. He moved to sit up, his forehead resting on her sternum, placing open mouthed kisses between the valley of her breasts before taking one into his mouth. His left arm secures her hips in his hold while the other hand snakes its way into her hair. Grabbing at the roots he tugs her head back to expose more of her neck to him. Laying hot, wet kisses upon any expanse of skin he could reach. As his grip around her waist tightened slightly, he kept guiding her to ride his cock slowly, thrusting up every so often causing her to choke on a moan.

“Cregan…,” she moaned his name, groans continuing to slip from her mouth as he moved to suck on her other breast. Gently lapping at the nipple as she whimpered.

“So gorgeous, my love. So good for me. Taking me so - nnnggh - well,” he grunted out, groaning when she squeezed him as his words sent a shock wave to her core. She threaded her fingers into his chocolate strands, pulling slightly earning another pleased noise from her husband.

“I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us,” she pants, looking down at his face. As he looks up, her breath catches at the sight of her fucked-out husband and his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

“I know, me too,” he responds breathlessly, she cups his face and brings her lips to his. It’s messy, he crushes his mouth to hers and suddenly begins thrusting upwards, hitting that one spot deep within her.

Her gasp causes him to pull away from the kiss, but not from her. Their mouths still close, breathing in each others air as he continues to thrust into her. Tipping his head back as his face scrunches in pleasure and groaning loudly, he then ducks his head into the curve of her neck as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. His right arm still snaked up her back and his hand tangled in her hair to keep her close. She was reaching the precipice of heaven for the second time that evening, and he could tell. The way she began to squeeze him, how she fluttered around him, he knew.

“I know, my love. Give yourself to me,” he begged, whispering the pleas in her ear before kissing the shell of it. With several more thrusts she was coming undone around him, moaning and gasping as she collapses into him. With only several more thrust he too was coming undone in the most beautiful way. Flushed and groaning, he is the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Only moments afterwards, still basking in their post-coital glow, he lays back against the pillows once more. Placing a hand directly over her womb, he mutters something about “seeing her round with child in several moons” and she felt his cock jump within her as he continues to cradle his hands around her lower stomach.

“I can’t wait for you to bare my children, my love,” he states, looking into her eyes with such adoration. Resting her hands atop his she nods.

“I can’t wait to be the mother of your children, I’m sure I will be soon,” she responds, equal adoration radiating off her.

————————————————————————

She missed her moon’s blood the following month, and he was the happiest he had been in a very long time.

Although the feeling never fully returned in his left arm and hand, he had re-learned how to wield Ice with just as much skill as he did before the incident. His ankle and legs did recover after more than a year of rehabilitation, but eventually he no longer walked with a limp.

The gratitude which he felt was immeasurable. Thinking about how many ways his life could have been different if he didn’t have her to keep him sane through the most difficult thing he had ever faced; losing his physical strength and health. Most days feeling as if he couldn’t go on, but then she would be at his side to aid him in whatever he needed. Never wavering in her love or loyalty to him.

He woke every day from then on thanking the old gods and the new for sparing one of their angels to be his wife.

#cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #house of the dragon #hotd cregan #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark angst #hotd s2 #cregan stark x female reader

1K notes · View notes