#it was gonna be a sexy sunday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yasu-1234 · 2 months

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friends with benefits with gojo satoru.

pairing: gojo satoru x afab reader words: 5,100 contains: oral sex, squirting, pronebone, choking, and gojo being unserious. mood: playful, sexy, sincere. author’s note: thank you for the kind reaction to lazy sunday morning 🙇‍♀️

You squint at him as you take in his request, wondering if he’s just messing with you as usual. You’re sitting next to him in your apartment unit; the balls of your feet digging on the edge of your couch as you slurp on a cup of boba tea.

“Dude. That’s not funny,” you manage to reply after a long, confused silence. “Like, I know it’s fun when we mess with each other but isn’t this a bit out of line?”

He scoffs dramatically. “I’m serious! Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Honestly? I can’t always tell,” you reply. “Kinda feels like everything is a joke to you sometimes.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m asking you nicely here. Do you wanna do it? With me?”

You open your mouth to respond, but then you realize you don't even know what to say.

Satoru scoots closer to you and leans forward, looking at you from above his sunglasses, his voice dropping into his teacher tone as he explains.

“Look, okay?” he starts. “We’ve been teasing and flirting with each other since the day we met. And I know it’s all jokes but still, there’s obviously some chemistry here. Not to mention that you're fucking hot. And I know you think that I’m hot too. Plus, all your Tinder matches are assholes. And I don’t even have the time to date or meet new people. So you and I are like, our most logical, convenient choice here.”

You huff and smile in disbelief. “Did you just assume that I think you’re hot? Someone’s a little cocky.”

“Come on. You have eyes. Get with the program.”

Your eyes cast a flickering gaze over his body, taking in the chiseled contours of his muscles underneath his– Oh. Ohhh. So that’s why he came wearing a compression shirt. And sweatpants. On a Friday evening. With your favorite cup of boba tea. He shoots you an impish grin as you shake your head at him and set his bribe down the coffee table.

“Fine,” you say. “I won’t deny that we’re kinda, sorta, maybe, compatible. But here’s the thing. I like our friendship the way it is. Why complicate it with some dumb, meaningless sex?”

“No, no, no. But it’s not gonna be dumb and meaningless,” he replies. “Cause it’s you.”

His words snare you speechless, your cheeks flushing red.

“Wait. Dude, what do you mean by that?” You stammer, laughing awkwardly.

“I’m saying I care about you and you mean something to me. If there’s anyone I’d wanna fuck on the regular, it’s you.”

“Satoru!” You lean away. “You really don’t have a filter do you?”

“I’m just being candid here! I trust you.”

He scoots even closer to you, holding you by the forearms. “And you trust me too, right? I promise I don’t wanna hurt you and I’m not playing tricks. I’m just asking.”

“And am I the first person you asked?”

“You’re the only person I’m gonna ask. If you say no, my dick is gonna concave. It’s over,” he replies.

You laugh at his words, and he laughs from the pleasure of making you laugh. Then his smile melts into an unwavering gaze, his eyes soft and sincere, pleading like a touch-starved cat.

“But seriously,” he continues, his fingertips graze your neck. “I meant what I said. You mean something to me. I don’t wanna hookup with some random stranger or a girlfriend who might break up with me. It has to be you, okay? I just know that whatever it is that we have it’s definitely gonna last. Whether it’s friendship or… something else. Something more. I don’t know.”

You can’t help but lean into his touch, “Your logic is so weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“No, you.”

You huff and smile. And then your gaze falls down to his lips. Soft, glossy, and inviting. The air is suddenly warm and still. And the silence between you grows heavy and pensive. With the shared understanding that you are sitting with him on the edge of a crumbling threshold. You look back into his eyes and notice that he’s looking at your lips too. His breathing becomes shallow and heavy with longing.

“What if we just kiss and see where it goes?” you ask.

He swallows hard, his lips parting, “Yeah…”

Satoru takes off his sunglasses and you lean towards each other. Slowly. Seeking reassurance, offering permission, with every inch of space you close between yourselves. At some point, his eyelids fall shut. His silver lashes flutter as he moves closer and closer. You can smell his sweet breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and the firmness of his thumb against your cheek.

You close your eyes and press your lips against his, softly, then with a swift gradation of hunger as Satoru grabs the back of your neck, pulling you against him, deepening the kiss.

“Mmnh… ” You hear a soft hum of pleasure from deep in his chest.

His lips feel soft like rose petals, puckering and relaxing as he relishes the feeling of your lips against his. He’s kissing you. You’re kissing him back. And you start laughing against his lips as reality cuts through that fog. He pulls back, surprised by your reaction.

“What?” he asks, laughing now too. “Don’t tell me I suck.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you reply. “It’s just—I can’t believe I’m kissing my friend. On the mouth.”

He smirks, “You wanna kiss something else?”

You smack his shoulder, blushing and laughing, “Shut up!”

“Hey, I was quiet,” he yells, gesturing to himself now. “You’re the one who started laughing!”

“Okay, fine! I’m sorry! I just couldn’t take it seriously.”

“We never really took anything seriously. That’s what makes it so fun,” He says, placing his hands on your waist. “I like that we can laugh about everything. Even things like this.”

You smile, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

You lean towards each other and kiss once again. This time, you part your lips, and his tongue swipes softly against yours, gentle yet demanding, coating your mouth with a sweet, buttery taste. His hands are warm as it rests on your collarbones. And you feel his fingers crawl upwards to the back of your neck, grabbing you by the scalp to hold your head still.

The rest of the world starts to sway and melt into open water. And you cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. You break the kiss to gasp for some air, hoping to feel solid ground again. While Satoru presses his forehead against yours. His eyes shut and his lips trembling, hoping you would let him taste you again.

“We’re gonna keep going aren’t we…” you whisper, breathlessly.

“Hell yeah,” he whispers back.

His hands slide under your thighs and he pulls you to his lap. You lean down to kiss him once again. Satoru moans and grabs your hips to press you down to his crotch, craving some pressure against his aching, hardening cock.

“I just… need your weight… right here…” he mutters in between kisses. His hips press upwards to meet you, and you gasp as you feel his thick girth squeeze and rub between your legs. Shuddering as you wonder how he’ll cram all that cock inside of you.

“You feel that? That’s your fault,” he hisses, sighing in relief.

“Aww, are you that pent up?” You tease as you start rocking across his length, following the slow rhythm of his hips.

“You know it… It’s been a while.”

A strangled sound leaves his throat and his head hangs back from the couch as you grind on him. His eyes shut and his lips parted in relief. He grabs you firmly by the backside, keeping you pressed against him.

A moment later, Satoru tilts his head back up to look at you with a hazy gaze and notices your stiff nipples underneath your oversized shirt. He leans forward and nips at one of your buds with his teeth.

You yelp at the sudden prick of pain, “What the fuck!”

You recoil and cover your chest with your hands.

“Hehe, I've always wanted to do that,” he says. He takes your wrists and pries them away from your chest, holding them tightly behind your back with a single, large fist. “You never wear a bra when I’m coming over. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or were you hoping that I would?”

“It’s my apartment. I would’ve worn a bra if I knew you were gawking,” you retort.

He leans to press his lips softly on your breast, soothing the sting in your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. You sigh and bite your lip.

“You’re not answering my question,” he says, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So maybe I’ll just think however I want. And I think you wanted me to see it.”

Satoru starts kissing the base of your neck as his hand disappears under your shirt; you shiver as you feel his long fingers draw a smooth trail up your spine that turns into a light scratch as his hand pivots across your rib and towards your chest. You feel his cock jump underneath his sweats the moment he feels your breast.

“Damn, you’re soft,” he sighs. He bunches the hem of your shirt and raises it up, exposing your breasts to him. “Here, hold this."

He stuffs your mouth with your shirt to hold it up.

Before you can protest, Satoru leans down to drag a soft tongue over your nipple. Then he opens his mouth to suckle as much of your breast as possible. You bite down on your shirt, holding a moan as he flicks you over and over with his tongue, and then finishing with smacking kisses before he moves his lips across your chest to tease the other. Your torso twists and recoils from the raw, yet delicate sensation. But he pulls on your wrists to keep your back arched in his direction. The ache and heat between your legs become more and more unbearable, so you continue rubbing your crotch against the iron-hard bulge in his lap. Giving yourself some much-needed relief.

“Mmmh, that’s right, keep grinding on me,” he murmurs. “Make that pussy feel good.”

You shoot him a repulsed look. Though you're unable to snark at him through the makeshift gag he shoved in your mouth. Satoru laughs anyway, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. You’re such a sleaze.

“Oh come on. I’m how you like me,” he teases. “And if you keep looking at me like that I might actually bust.”

You roll your eyes at him and smile. And that only made Satoru greedier for any and all reactions he can coax out of your body. He grins and sets you back down the couch. Then he kneels on the floor between your legs and drags your shorts and panties down to the floor. You spread your legs for him, almost involuntarily. And he bites his lip as you show him the tender, sopping mess between your legs. His hands on your thighs feel searing hot as he raises your limbs up the couch, planting your feet on the edge of your seat.

“Play with your clit,” he tells you. “Show me how you tease it.”

Surprisingly, you obey. Your hand starts drawing languid circles around and around your bud. He leans in closer to observe you. Noting the rhythm, the pressure, how tightly or how widely you stroke yourself. You realize that he’s teaching himself how to make you feel good. And that only made you rub faster and harder in blatant, bare-faced need.

“Yes, that’s right. Keep going,” he encourages you. “Now put a finger in. Fuck yourself a little.”

You slip your finger and start gliding in and out. He nods and hums in pleasure as he watches you with unabashed lust and fascination. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You milk and ride your delicate fingers, stoking and tending to your own pleasure like a flame.

“Okay stop,” he says. He pulls your hands away. “I got the gist of it.”

“The gist, huh?” You taunt. “You think that’s enough?”

“You tell me.”

He parts your lips with his thumbs and glides a wide tongue along your slit. Your back bows and a moan escapes you as he licks you just like that.

Satoru doesn’t even take the time to gloat. His lips and tongue start to slurp and smack relentlessly. Making your toes curl and your stomach writhe. Grabbing a handful of his hair and nearly ripping it off his scalp as he somehow licks faster and sucks harder. With the rhythm and the consistency of a goddamn machine. You bite hard on the fleshy base of your thumb as he pleasures your pussy raw. Focusing your eyes on whatever random object you find in your living room to make yourself last longer. Cause you know you’ll never hear the end of it if you come all over his mouth within the first two minutes.

But then he slides in his fingers. Those fucking fingers. Smooth and long and dexterous as it moves in and out, over and over, curling to press that intense spot just underneath your bladder. You start to feel a deep sense of pressure, an urgency, somewhere inside your walls. That builds and rumbles and sears… and then explodes.

You grunt and arch as you feel a sudden release, something more than a climax. Your body grows taut and snared by euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hearing muffled as your ears start to ring. But Satoru’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Whoa there! I didn’t know I was in the splash zone!”

You snap your head back down and your jaw drops at the sight of him.

“Holy shit. Did I just– Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” you stammer, mortified. You grab your shirt to try to wipe him.

“Haha, hey. Relax. You didn’t actually hit me,” he says with a soft, reassuring laugh. He turns his body to an angle to show your watery spent hovering centimeters before his face. “See? All safe and dry. Unlike you.”

“Oh, shut it,” you sigh, panting heavily. “That… seriously never happened before.”

“Really? Never?” he asks with a smug grin, he starts wiping himself with your shirt before tossing it down the wooden floor. "Wow… I'm flattered."

Satoru kisses your thighs and leans down between your legs once again. You jolt and push his head away.

“Wait, I don’t think I-“

“Just a few kisses,” he says in a soft voice. “Just lemme get a few more kisses in there, yeah? I’ll be gentle with it.”

You sigh and slowly let go of his head. Satoru leans in to plant a few soft kisses on your outer lips, on your folds, your entrance–your entire body twitching with every touch of his lips. Then he presses his lips tenderly on your clit. And you feel it pulse and throb as his lips linger and your legs begin to tremble. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth on your inner thigh.

“If that wasn't one of the biggest ego boosts of my life,” he says fondly.

“Yeah, cause the one thing you need the most is another ego boost,” you retort as you wait for your bones and muscles to feel solid again. “I’ll get you for this.”

He grins, “That a promise or a threat?”

“Maybe both.”

“Alright, bet.”

Satoru stands to push his sweatpants down his thighs. Then he reaches inside his boxer-briefs to draw out…

the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen in your life.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you watch Satoru shrug off his bottoms and straddle you. Instinctively, you wrap your hand around his cock and start stroking.

He looks at you with a smirk, “Gorgeous, right?”

His cock is long and proportionally thick from crown to root, shaped with a graceful upwards curve. His skin is glossy and flushed pink—wrapped tightly and smoothly around his organ without an inch of loose flesh. It’s almost uncanny how sculpted and elegant it looks. And the idea of his cock sinking past your throat makes your mouth water and your pussy pound.

“Go on, taste it,” he coaxes you. He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You lean in and wrap your lips around his pretty, pink head—your tongue swirling and catching each leak of precum that drops onto your taste buds. Satoru moans and the neediness in his voice emboldens you to take more and more of him. You start swaying your head in deeper and deeper strokes; relishing the smooth underside of his cock. The thick scent of lavender on his skin and hair. The sweet and acidic taste of his precum. Satoru tries to breathe in deeply, only for his breath to shudder each time you sink your head.

“You’re pretty eager,” he teases, breathlessly. He runs his fingers through your scalp to hold your hair back, wanting to see more of your face as you work on him. “Do you want me to cum that badly? You want me to shoot my little babies down that throat?”

He yelps when you slap his inner thigh, your brow furrowed as you look at him with a flustered and reprimanding gaze. Though Satoru finds it pretty hard to take you seriously with his dick in your mouth. So he chuckles fondly instead.

“Or you can do that. I like it when you try to hurt me too,” he says.

You grab him by the back of his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, and you sink him deeper into your mouth. Satoru hisses and starts moving his hips, meeting your head downstroke. His cock starts to edge towards the back of your tongue, testing your gag reflex with every thrust. But you relax your throat and match your breathing with the swing of his hips, and soon you manage to bury him down your throat to the root. Your nose pressed firmly against the fluffy, white hairs of his crotch. Screw it. You let him hit the back of your throat over and over and over.

"Fuck," he moans. "At least try to make me last."

His hips pick up the pace. And you feel his muscles contract as his cock pushes towards release. You moan and pleasure him with the vibrations in your throat, wanting desperately to fill your taste buds with his cum.

But then he stops moving. His hands holding you stock-still against his crotch. You feel his cock twitch and throb in your throat, threatening to burst. And you can hear the strangled noises and whimpers coming from Satoru’s lips. You look up to him and see the look on his face; his brow is upturned, his eyes closed, and his jaw tight as he bites his lower lip. Looking like an angel in ecstasy. His eyes flutter open to peer down on you.

“Just a little more. Bear with me here,” he sighs. Then the twitching stops and he pulls his cock out. You gasp, forgetting you were holding your breath.

You shoot him an accusatory look.

“Did you just edge yourself?” You ask.

“What if I did?” He asks back.

“That’s not fair! I was winning!”

You lean forward towards his crotch but he holds you by the shoulders, laughing.

“It’s not a competition! I didn’t come all this way just to cum in your hand. Or your mouth,” he says with a smile. He reaches behind him to slide two fingers between your slit, gently caressing your inner lips. “I wanna cum here."

He starts gliding those long delicate fingers, up and down. Parting as he stretches you open. Your eyes glaze over as you feel that familiar heat building between your legs. Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps you would rather feel him burst inside you instead. You start moving your hips to rut against his fingers, your hands rolling your breasts as you gaze at him with cock-starved eyes. Satoru twitches as he relishes that look in your face. Wanting nothing else but to thrust and wring that neediness away.

“Bed?” He asks you.

“Bed,” you answer.

You yelp and giggle as he hoists you up and jogs to your bedroom. He doesn’t want to waste a single second. He flops you down on top of your sheets and takes his shirt off. His naked torso tightens as he notices you admiring his body. Taking in his broad shoulders, his square chest, his tiny waist and those grid-like abs. Eight packs… How many abs does a person need?

Satoru aligns his groin between your legs and lays his cock across your stomach like a ruler; measuring how deep he's about to go inside your body. You shiver as his tip caresses your belly button. Your pussy throbbing in equal parts fear and delight.

"You think you can take all this?" He asks you with a devious look in his eyes, with his lips curled into a smirk.

You bite your lips and mirror his gaze, almost provoking him to try and split you apart.

"Come and find out."

He rubs the tip of his cock against your clit and pushes it inside you. You moan as his thick head stretches you with just enough hint of pain to compliment the pleasure. He leans down and sticks his tongue out, prompting you to suck it and caress it with your own. The sensation of your soft tongues circling each other sends you into a fucking frenzy. You feel your inner walls contract and his groan spills straight into your mouth.

“Shit, you’re actually sucking me in,” he pants. He grabs you by the hair to tilt your head down, making you watch the way his cock sink between your legs—one girthy inch after the other. “Look at it go. Watch how well you're taking me right now.”

You both groan in relief as his cock disappears inside your soft cunt, his tip pressed flush against your cervix. You both take a moment to stare at your interlocked groins in fascination.

And then he looks at you to flash a nasty grin.

“Hey bestie…” Satoru purrs, his voice dripping with mischief and lust. “Guess who’s inside you?”

“Oh, come on!” you groan, smiling deliriously as you turn your head away from him. You try to cover your face, but he pins your wrists to the bed.

“No, say it. Who’s inside you? Who’s fucking you right now?” He insists, giggling. He tilts his body to face you again, preventing you from escaping his gaze. He withdraws his hips and drives his cock upwards with a rough thrust, knocking you backwards. You tilt your head back with a moan as he hits you in the womb.

“Say it,” he urges.

“Who else am I supposed to say? Jesus?” you reply, laughing as he does. “You are. You're inside me. Happy?"

“What am I doing?” He asks again. He starts rolling his hips, fucking you slowly. His crotch rubs against your clit in languid strokes.

“You’re fucking me,” you gasp. Your breath catches as you turn dizzy and nearly cross-eyed from ecstasy.

“That's right,” he replies, now caressing your face. “I got you, okay? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“You better,” you reply, wrapping your arms around him.

Satoru withdraws and flips you to lie flat on your stomach. Your legs pressed closely together as he parts your cheeks and aims his cock towards your entrance.

"Try not to gush all over your sheets, okay?" He teases. Then he nibbles your ear and plants kisses on your shoulders.

You sigh, “I just knew you were gonna bring that up.”

Satoru slides inside of you and you squirm and groan against the pillow instantaneously. The friction between your legs feels heightened as your muscles squeeze around him. He starts gyrating his hips, the tip of his cock hitting all the right spots with each downstroke. You grab the sheets and groan as you start kicking your feet from the raw, unadulterated pleasure.

He braces his hands on the small of your back. Then his hips move faster. Harder. Deeper. The slap of his skin nearly echoes inside your bedroom as he fucks the sanity out of your brain with each thrust. Your senses are overwhelmed by all things Satoru–the powdery scent of his skin, his pretty little moans in your ear, his smooth skin against your back, his comforting weight, and his thick cock pumping inside of you. With an angle so perfect and a rhythm so right that you wonder if his body was made for you. You squirm and writhe underneath him as the pleasure engulfs you like a flame. That he stokes and tends until it’s wild and uncontrollable.

You know it’s just sex. You know you’re just friends. You both just wanted to try something fun. Let off some steam. And yet you never felt used for a single moment. And despite all his teasing and provocations you’ve never felt insulted or uncomfortable. Satoru makes you laugh. He also makes you moan. And if he keeps fucking you like this he might actually make you cry.

Satoru collapses on top of you and starts groaning and whimpering against your neck, his abs flexing into stone as he stokes an impending climax.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm so close. Take me there, baby, take me all the way there, please," he rambles. “I want it, I want it, I want it. God, I wanna cum so bad."

He grabs you by the neck to tilt your head up and shoves his soft, sweet tongue inside your mouth. Kissing you with open lips. Saliva dripping down your chin. Then his hand starts to squeeze you, choking you gently and tenderly, and your body dissolves into a pleasurable haze. Your inner walls clench and your stomach tightens. You know you're getting close, too.

"Yes. That’s right. Good girl," he whispers into your lips. "Stay with me, baby. Stay close to me, I can't do this without you."

The pleasure builds, and builds, and builds, and then it shatters you. You start thrashing under his body as your climax rips through and seizes you. White light dances before your eyes and your hearing weakens from the strength of your pulse. Your pussy clenching so hard around his cock that he explodes inside you as well—his cum hot and searing like ignited oil. Satoru’s hips begin to stutter, helpless against the strength of his own spent as it shoots out and fills you straight to the womb until it leaks past your plugged entrance. He cums inside you in choking whimpers and grunts… that fade into a long, satisfied sigh.

“Hah… fuck… holy shit,” he pants. “What was that?”

“I never came so hard in my life,” you whisper, mindlessly.

“Me too… I thought I was gonna shoot my balls out.”

Satoru remains flat on your back, kissing and nibbling your nape as you unwind from the strength of your orgasms. Your bodies stay suctioned together, as still as the air that surrounds you. You seek comfort and grounding from his crushing weight and the heady sweetness of his scent as your mind slips into that blissful, post-orgasmic headspace. He tugs at his dick to pull out, but you’re still clamped and wound up tightly. That’s fine. He didn’t want this to end either. Your walls are just too soft, too warm, and too plush for him to just leave. He smiles and rolls your bodies to the side to spoon you; his arms wrapped around you like a blanket.

Satoru starts rubbing his face against your neck like a sweet, satisfied cat.

“So what do you think? You wanna do this again sometime?” He asks.

You could only hum in approval, your mind and your body feeling weightless and malleable.

“How long have you been meaning to sleep with me?” You ask. “Just curious.”

“… A while,” he answers after a pensive silence. “Does that bother you?”

"I guess not… But we’re still friends, right?” You ask. Wondering if you should even bring this up while he’s tucked inside you to the hilt.

"Friends with benefits, I guess," he shrugs. "But really, we can be anything you want. You already know how I feel so… ball's on your court."

He raises his head to look at you. "Why? You wanna get married?"

You laugh, "Maybe not that!"

“Why not? Lots of people marry their best friends.”

You turn your head and smirk at him, “I let you hit once and now you’re thinking about marriage. I must’ve been such a good lay.”

He smiles fondly and nuzzles your cheek, “You are, though. Seriously, who else can bring me to my knees like that? You’re the best I ever had.”

You roll your eyes and smile, “Now you’re just glazing.”

“It’s true,” He leans back down to kiss a trail from your ear to your shoulder. “I don’t care how you take me as long as we’re together. I like being with you. And now I know I like fucking you too. You’re not getting rid of me now. And like I said before. Whatever it is that we have, it'll definitely last.”

You stay silent, wondering where this all leads. Will the friendship really last? Will it fizzle out? Would you prefer that over a certain, bitter end? Is your friendship now contingent on sex? Will he be worth the heartache if you ever get attached?

Satoru laughs softly at your brooding.

“You don’t have to decide right now, you know?” He says. “Let’s just feel this moment together. Just feel me here with you. We don’t have to worry about anything else.”

He starts rocking his hips gently again, thrusting inside you with a pace so relaxing that you feel your consciousness sinking. He whispers softly against your ear; telling you secrets and sweet reassurances. Promises and high praises.

Satoru has leapt from that crumbling threshold. That boundary. That made you seek forgiveness whenever your fingers touched his hand. Or worry if you’ve taken your jokes too far. And he has opened his arms to you, beckoning you to take that leap and sink into that limbo between friendship and beyond. Promising you that he will catch you when you fall.

i wanted to capture that 'you cryin'?' energy of his and stretch it to a whole fanfic. though i hope it wasnt too much of a tone whiplash (•᷄- •᷅ ;) i just think annoying people is his love language. and he probs gets a kick from your reactions. pls let me know what you think! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

and thank you for giving this fanfic a chance!

originally posted on ao3 title is based on blurred lines by lauren layne. art by blooneey on pixiv

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onlyhuis · 1 year

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leaning on the everlasting arms

member | childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre | angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count | 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings | female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings | descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes | although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 | for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference.

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether.

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long.

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years.

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal.

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known.

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady.

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so.

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be.

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses.

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough.

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room.

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second.

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes.

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth.

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth.

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again.

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you,

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer.

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement.

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead.

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

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