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ieirism · 7 months

Text

crybaby.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

setting: modern au

genre: smut and fluff

contains: brother’s best friend gojo, protective older brother geto, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), unprotected sex, slightly mean gojo (but he ends up soft and sweet, I promise), dirty talk, overstimulation, mutual pining, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), cheesy and happy ending <3

summary: satoru had promised suguru that there'd be no funny business while he takes care of his heartbroken baby sister... but he's never been the greatest at keeping promises.

“Stop being so mean to her, Satoru.” Satoru looks over at his best friend, who's clicking his tongue in disapproval, with a nonchalant grin.

“Not my fault she’s such a crybaby, Suguru.”

“Come on.” Suguru shoots him a warning look. “That’s my little sister you're talking about.”

“Hey, hey,” Satoru laughs, raising his hands in mock defense. “You gotta teach her how to grow thicker skin. Not my problem.”

“Every time you come over, she ends up crying.” The black-haired man sighs. “Don’t be a jerk just for one moment, won’t you?”

“Mmh, no promises.” Satoru grins. Sue him, he’s simply too addicted to the way your face scrunches up indignantly whenever he teases you, the futile yet endearing clenching of your small fists at your side, and most of all, the uncontrollable blubbers that leave your lips as tears roll down your cheeks.

Years later, you’re still the same. Just a little crybaby coming apart at the seams, completely at Gojo Satoru’s mercy.

“S-Satoru…” The high-pitched whine of his name only elicits a laugh from the man between your legs, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through your body.

“Baby, you gotta stop movin’ so much.” Satoru’s large hands grip your thighs, holding them firmly in place as he continues to feast on your dripping pussy. “Gotta let me eat you properly.” He punctuates his point with a loud suck on your clit that has you mewling and twitching under his hold.

“T-Too much!” You sob, hands curling into the silky white stands on his head, tugging uselessly. “S’too much, S-Satoru…”

“You wanna take my cock later, princess?” He hums against your cunt, licking a hot stripe up your slit, chuckling as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. His gaze lazily travels upwards, greeted with the sight of you nodding furiously as tears stream down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you plead with wide, teary eyes. “N-need you.” Satoru smirks.

“Then be a good girl and let me prep you,” he coos, before diving right back between your folds, enjoying the broken sob that leaves your lips as he draws zigzags across your swollen clit.

“I really don’t understand you,” Suguru bristles, frustration evident by the way his eyebrows furrow as he eyes Satoru.

“Hmm?” Satoru looks at him with feigned innocence. “Whatever could you be talking about, dear Suguru?”

“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs. “Those gifts you bought her… they’re worth almost a million yen. What the hell is wrong with you, really.”

“Well, you told me I made her cry.” The white-haired man shrugged. “I had to make up for it, didn’t I?” Suguru squints suspiciously, at a brief loss for words.

“...You are not normal,” he finally scoffs.

“Of course not,” Satoru agrees, unfazed.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’re gonna end up spoiling her.”

“And what’s so bad about that?”

“Gimme another one, baby.” He’s faintly aware that if he makes you cum again, you really might pass out. However, he can’t really bring himself to be too concerned about that, not when he’s quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your dripping cunt and cries of pleasure.

“C-Can’t, I can’t — “ You sob, entire body shaking around his mouth; you’re so sensitive.

“You can,” he insists between hungry slurps, not letting any of your arousal go to waste. “Fuck…” You’re so sweet. Just how did he survive this long without having a taste of you?

“Please…” You’re still shy, trying your best to stifle your cries even as they fall in a steady stream from your trembling lips. Each loud squelch of your sopping pussy still has you cringing a little, not to mention the embarrassment that washes over you every time you catch a glimpse of your juices all over Satoru’s face.

“Don’t hold back anymore, sweetheart.” He reaches up to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your mouth even as you blubber out a weak protest. “Wanna hear you this time, say it loud. Say my name when you cum.” One more combined thrust of his fingers, deep into your hole with a flick of his tongue across your clit has you creaming on his lips for the fourth time.

“S-Satoru!” You’re unable to control the beautifully loud whine of his name as Satoru greets your orgasm eagerly, savoring every last drop of your release on his tongue.

“You made her cry again.” Suguru says, rolling his eyes as he approaches his best friend at their meeting spot.

“Huh?” Satoru raises a brow. “Haven’t even seen her since two weeks ago. What’d I do?”

“She’s sad you’re moving away.” Suguru tuts. “Can’t imagine why. Probably because she won’t be able to use you for your wallet anymore.”

“You implyin’ I’m just a wallet to her?” Satoru exclaims, a little offended. The black-haired man shoots him a deadpan glare.

“You know you’re not. But even you’re not enough of an asshole to use that against her.”

“It’s just college,” Satoru muses. “Kid thinks I won’t be back for her?”

“In two years she’ll be going off to college too.” Suguru shrugs. “She’ll get over you.”

“What a cruel thing to say.” Satoru laughs it off, ignoring the small flicker of jealousy that flares to life deep in his chest.

Satoru watches as your chest heaves up and down, in your effort to try to recover from the multiple orgasms he had just given you. You’re lying limp on your bed, unable to move save for the periodic twitching of your thighs.

“Sorry, princess, was that too much?” He’s teasing, but there’s a genuine edge of concern to his voice as he cups your cheek in his hand. You nod, a few tears falling down your face. “Aww, forgive me. You’ll forgive me, right?” In response, you tug weakly on his shirt collar, asking him to come closer. He relents, allowing you to drag him down towards you. Satoru’s about to ask what you need, before you suddenly tilt your head upwards to kiss him.

Satoru lets out a small noise of surprise as your soft lips press against his, hesitant at first, but deepening once your fingers find further purchase in his shirt, gripping tightly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his lap.

You kiss him a little clumsily, still boneless from your release but Satoru doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind at all, of course, when your lips are so soft against his, and he can swallow every quiet whimper that escapes you.

“Satoru…” Your voice is raspy and small, but your eyes are wild as you cling helplessly to him. “A-Am… Am I ready yet?” His jaw goes slack in awe at the adorable, troubled expression on your face. Your lips are swollen into a permanent pout now as you look up at him with those wide doe eyes that always had him weak.

“...Think you are,” he heaves, realizing that he’s just as fucked out as you are. It takes everything in him to hold back the urge to just take you.

“She’s grown up.” Satoru raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the pictures that Suguru shows him. Your family had recently gone on vacation, so Suguru had been gone for an entire week, leaving his best friend and roommate all alone.

“That’s what you’re looking at?” Suguru shoots him an annoyed look.

“Oh,” says Satoru, glancing back at the picture. “Uh, nice waterfall.”

“One of the seven natural wonders of the world and all you can see is my baby sister.” Suguru exhales deeply.

“What? You can’t blame me too much. Kid’s changed,” the white-haired man shoots defensively.

“She’s twenty, not sixteen anymore. Of course, she’s changed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I know that, I just…” Satoru pauses, glancing back at the picture. You’re still tiny, only reaching up to your brother’s, and by extension his, chest. Your face has matured, though, baby fat gone from your cheeks. That didn’t stop you from being any less adorable, though — your smile is as radiant as ever. He can’t help but let a small smile of his own slip onto his face.

“Hopeless,” Suguru mutters in disbelief. “Hopeless, the both of you.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Satoru lets you unbutton his shirt, watching in amusement as your eyes narrow with focus as each button pops open, slowly revealing more and more of his skin.

“Um…” You’re nervous. It’s plain as day from the way your lip wobbles as your eyes sweep down the view of his chiseled chest and torso, only to end at the prominent bulge in his slacks.

“You sure you’re okay with this, princess?” He cups your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to look straight at him. “Need to rest?”

“N-No!” You protest immediately, shaking your head. “I…” You glance back down at his erection, a flicker of desire in your eyes. “I need…” You trail off, unable to say it.

“Okay.” If he was feeling meaner, he would make you tell him exactly what you want. But he wants to be nice today, especially since you’ve already cried so much for him. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll have it. Can you unzip me? Can you do that for me?” You hesitate for a moment. Satoru briefly wonders if he’s perhaps pushed you a bit too hard.

But then you’re reaching for him, small hands finding the top of his pants and slowly undoing the button. Your fingers close around his zipper, slowly tugging it down.

“Good girl.” He pecks your forehead. “Take me out of my boxers, alright?” As his angry, swollen cock springs free from his underwear, you can’t contain your gasp.

“Oh…” The soft sound leaves you almost involuntarily as you stare and wonder at how the hell that’s gonna fit in you. He’s thick and long, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. You slowly wrap your own hand around his cock, lips parting as your fingers fail to meet in the middle. Your own pussy clenches in a combination of fear and excitement.

“See why I needed to prepare you, now?”

“Sorry to spring this onto you all of a sudden, especially since you just got into town.” Suguru sighs over the phone.

“Don’t worry about it. If you’re not around to take care of her, duty falls on me,” says Satoru as he reverses his car out of the parking lot, heading to the location Suguru had sent him.

“Let me know when she’s home safe. Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, will do.”

A pause.

“And… no funny business, got it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I’m serious, Satoru. She just confronted her asshole cheater ex. She doesn’t need you drooling all over her right now.”

“Relax, dude. I’m not that desperate.” Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

His conversation with Suguru lies in the back of his mind, forgotten, as Satoru places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Lay back and relax for me, sweetheart.” You immediately obey, laying yourself down on your bed, heart beating fast in anticipation.

“S’gonna hurt, right?” you ask softly.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten you ready, see?” Satoru comforts you, brushing his fingers against the wetness still soaking your entrance.

“Oh.” Tears suddenly well in your eyes. “Um, s-sorry, it just always hurt with him…”

“What?” Satoru’s eyes darken, unsure if you mean what he thinks you do.

“He just…” You bite your lip, trying not to let your tears fall. “H-He just p-put it in, y’know?” His heart drops in his stomach. Two years, two whole fucking years with that asshole, and he had never given you proper foreplay? No wonder you were so sensitive and responsive to his touch, your body had never received the attention it’s always deserved.

“Baby.” Satoru squeezes your hand, fighting down the urge to find that asshole and beat him up. That could come later. Right now, he has to focus on you. “It’s not gonna be that way this time. Not with me. Okay?” You nod, squeezing his hand in return.

“O-Okay.”

It’s the first time he’s seen you in person in four years, and here you are in the passenger seat of his car, crying your eyes out.

You feel absolutely humiliated. You had called Suguru to ask him to pick you up from your ex-boyfriend’s house after you dumped him, but he had told you he couldn’t.

“I’ll send someone to get you. Hang tight,” he’d said.

You just didn’t know it was going to be Gojo Satoru, who hadn’t returned to your hometown since he graduated high school.

“I’m gonna bring you home,” Satoru had told you, getting out of the driver’s seat to open the car door for you. “Relax, okay? You’re safe now.” He had buckled your seatbelt for you before settling in himself, starting the engine without another word.

The car ride back to your house is silent, save for the continuous sniffles that wrack your body as you try your best to stop your tears. Satoru silently puts a box of tissues in your lap at some point, and your heart stutters at the action.

You’ve known for many years now, that you never got over your first love.

Clothes fully discarded, Satoru lowers himself on top of you, enamored with the way you shyly glance down at`his cock, gaze wavering for a moment before slowly looking back up at him, eyes begging for him to do something.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He brushes his fingers, tender and gentle, across your cheek. You nod, hand curling around his bicep.

“Kiss me,” you request, and he gladly obliges, leaning down to peck your lips.

“M’gonna go slow,” he tells you. “You want me to stop, hit me real hard — “ He smacks his own chest. “ — Right here. Got it?”

“I won’t,” you say bravely, eyes glimmering with determination. “I… I can take it.” Satoru laughs quietly.

“Alright, princess. Don’t act all cute, you’re just rilin’ me up now.” You smile, a little mischievously.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Fuck…” Satoru groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.” His fat tip taps against your clit once, twice. You gasp, eyes going glossy as you feel your swollen pussy clench desperately around nothing.

“Satoru,” you plead. “P-Please…”

“I’ll give you what you need. Relax for me…” He aligns his tip with your entrance, prodding between your folds. Inch by inch, he sinks his cock into your warm, throbbing cunt, almost blacking out himself at the sensation of your tight, velvety walls clamping around his cock.

“A-Ah…!” You whine, gripping his bicep and squeezing your eyes shut. The stretch is almost too much, but the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim has you seeing stars.

“You okay?” Satoru pants, willing himself to stop from splitting you open on his cock to check on you.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, a-ah, please k-keep going…” Satoru rests his head in the crook of your neck as he continues to push himself in, enjoying the soft, labored whimpers as you take more and more of him, deep into your sopping hole.

“Almost there,” he coos. “Almost there, princess…” After what feels like an eternity, he finally sheaths the last of him in you, biting at your shoulder as he finally, finally feels exactly the sensation of being one with you.

“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Satoru places a glass of water in your hand as he leads you to your living room couch. You stubbornly refuse to look at him, letting the glass sit uselessly in your hand as you stare down at your lap.

He sighs, not sure what he should do. He’s never been good at comforting others, let alone his friends’ kid sisters. He knows you’re not a kid anymore, you’re a full grown adult, but the way you’re sulking and ignoring him says otherwise. Still, his fondness for you wins above all else as he takes the water back and puts it on the coffee table, letting you sit in silence.

”You gonna be okay by yourself?” he asks instead. Satoru doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s not sure if his presence will even help. He hasn’t been an active part of your life in years, and he has a feeling that this incredibly vulnerable moment isn’t the best time to barge back in. You don’t reply, twiddling your thumbs.

“Call me if you need anything,” Satoru says hesitantly. “You have my number, right?” No response. “I’m gonna write it down for you.” He finds a spare stack of Post-Its and does just that. You don’t react even when he sticks the note right on top of your forehead, in a shitty attempt to lighten your mood. Your deadpan glare, so much like your brother’s tells him it did not work.

“Suguru’s gonna be back tomorrow,” he tells you, taking the note off and soothing the annoyed crease between your eyebrows. “Go get some rest now, yeah?” You look away. Satoru sighs. Seeing you upset like this hurts him way more than he would like to admit. “M’gonna leave. Get to bed soon.” He pats the top of your head, just like he always used to do, which always made you whine when he messed up your hair. You’re quiet now, not a peep of complaint leaving you.

He really misses hearing your voice.

“Bye, then.” Satoru’s about to turn around and leave, but you do something that seems to shock both of you. Your fingers curl and grab onto the hem of his collared shirt, stopping him in his tracks. He stares down at you in surprise, trying to process the sight of your small, thin fingers holding onto him for dear life.

“Stay.” The one word was enough to crumble his self-control.

You’re struggling to adjust to his size; he can tell from the way you’re digging your nails into his arm and the trembling of your thighs around his waist. Satoru stays still, waiting for your permission to go any further, right hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

“Don’t stress yourself, baby, just tell me what you want, when you want it,” he murmurs against your neck, waiting patiently, torturously, for permission to move.

You’re so overwhelmed by the sensation of being stuffed full; Satoru is much bigger than your ex-boyfriend and yet, the feeling isn’t painful. It’s so good, a throbbing ache that extends outwards from your core all the way to the top of your head and the tip of your toes. You can hardly form thoughts, let alone words, as your pussy stretches around him, trying to accommodate the sheer size of his cock.

A few more moments pass, and you feel like you’re going crazy. The feeling of being so, so full is one that you’ve never felt before, but you think you’re already addicted. Your thighs flex instinctively, closing tighter around Satoru’s waist and pushing his cock even deeper, pressing right against your sweet spot. You mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, silently begging to be closer to him.

Satoru leans into the kiss you give him, groaning as your walls suddenly clench once around him, brain filling with nothing but white noise. “Fuck,” he grits out against your lips. “Fuck, baby, I don’t know how much longer — “

“Move.” Your command is quiet. Satoru almost wonders if he’s misheard you. But one look into your pleading, begging eyes confirms what you want. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulls his hips upwards, snapping right back into you with one long, hard thrust. You cry out, nails sinking into his shoulder blades.“M-More,” you whisper. “Need more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Satoru’s at a loss for words and actions as you stood on your tiptoes, reaching up and bringing his head down to kiss him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to steady you, craning his neck to allow you better access — oh shit, what the hell is he doing?

He lets go of you like he’s touched something on fire, pulling back from the kiss. As your heels land back on the ground with a soft thud, he’s greeted by the sight of you looking like you’re about to cry again. “Wait — “ He reaches for you, but retracts his hand; he’s not sure if he can trust himself to stay in line. His heart is beating so fast, you had just kissed him, completely out of the blue.

Satoru knew about your crush on him when the two of you were younger. You started having feelings for him when you were thirteen and he was fifteen, making it painfully obvious. You followed him and Suguru around like a lost puppy whenever he came over, despite Satoru’s constant teasing.

He thought your actions were funny at first, becoming the root of his continued teasing. Despite still making you cry all the time, you always came right back to greet him with a smile upon his very next visit. After a while, Satoru looked at you with fondness, in the way that one would gaze at a small animal. You were harmless, sweet, and so very adorable.

Satoru didn’t return your feelings at the time. You were just Suguru’s kid sister that he liked to toy with sometimes. You were awfully cute when you were mad.

But now, as you look up at him with desperation and longing, his heart clenches faintly in his chest. You’re so, so beautiful — the pictures Suguru had showed him hadn’t done you justice in the slightest. You somehow look so enchantingly gorgeous at this moment, even with tears glistening in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

Would you hit him if he tried to wipe away your tears?

He never gets to find out, because you speak his name softly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Satoru leans down to carefully listen to what you have to say. “W-Want you.”

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” Satoru groans, reveling in the dizzying heat of your pussy as he drags his cock in and out of your walls, fucking you at a steady pace. “You feel me in there? You feel me in your little cunt?”

“Y-Yes,” you manage to sob out between moans, each rough snap of his hips into you melting your brain into jelly just a little more.

“What a perfect lil pussy,” He chuckles as you squeal after a rather rough thrust, the loud squelch of your hole sucking him in echoing through the room. “No sane person in this world would ever give this up this tight wet cunt.” You whine at his filthy words, drool dripping out of the side of your mouth as Satoru continues to ram into you, faster, harder.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name over and over, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, pushing him deeper and deeper. “S-Satoru, I-I — “

“You likin’ this, baby? Tell me how much you like this,” he coos into your ear, hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit.

“I l-like it s-so much, i-it’s so ahh…! I-it’s so good,” you sob out. You never thought sex could feel like this — you never understood why the people around you were so obsessed with it, especially with the treatment you received from your ex.

Now, though, as each rut of Satoru’s dick into your cunt kisses your sweet spot, you get it. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forget this feeling of being filled by cock so brutally sweet.

“Hold on.” Satoru had tried to protest, he really had. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend. Like Suguru said, the last thing you needed was any funny business. “Listen — “ He sighs out your name, making your bottom lip wobble. “You have to go rest, don’t be reckless.”

“Please.” You tug at his sleeve, staring at him with that puppy-eyed look that always gets you what you want. He really had spoiled you, hadn’t he?

“Not now,” he tried to reason with you. “You’re still hurting, you’re not in the right mind.” You glare at him.

“Who’re you to say m’not in the right mind?” you whine. “I…” You suddenly seem to lose your confidence, staring down at the floor. “...I only ever wanted you.”

“What?” Satoru stares, wide-eyed, at your confession.

“Know you don’t want me that way,” you continue, voice small. “But I… don’t care.” You sniffle. “Don’t care, Satoru. Just want you.”

And when you tug desperately at his shirt again, this time, Satoru is too far gone.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He growls into your neck, his pace picking up as he chases after his release, He coaxes you to join him, thumbing at your clit and cooing for you to “Let go, cum for me, c’mon. Cream all over my cock, princess.”

The only sounds in the room are a symphony of your moans and the slick sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your hole as a coil forms deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel tears stain your cheeks as Satoru’s pace increases, pounding into you so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.

“S-Satoru, I’m g-gonna — !” You cut yourself off with a loud, lewd moan, cunt clenching down hard around him as you come undone for the fifth time just this night. You swear you lose consciousness for a second, lost in the euphoric feeling of your release as your swollen pussy throbs in satisfaction.

“Shit..“ A few quick, shallow thrusts later, Satoru finishes as well, thick ropes of cum splurting into your womb, filling you with a warm sensation.

“A-Ah…” you whimper out, pussy fluttering weakly around his softening cock, which is still fully sheathed inside you. A white ring remains on his dick as he gently pulls himself off of you, cum dripping from your spent pussy onto the sheets. Satoru tuts, placing a pillow under your hips so you won’t leak.

You’re only faintly aware of what he’s doing as he leaves briefly and returns with a warm, wet towel, gently asking you to open your legs for him. You obey, but you’re so exhausted you can’t help it as your eyes droop shut. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Satoru leaning forward to peck your forehead, praising you for taking him so well.

You wake up a few hours later to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window, making you squint a little as you sit up in bed. You immediately gasp at the ache between your legs, and the soreness racing up and down your body.

Memories of the previous night come flooding back as a sleepy groan sounds from next to you. Satoru stirs, awakened by your panicked sound, asking softly, “You okay, baby?”

Oh god. Shit. Fuck. You actually had sex with Gojo Satoru.

“Hmm?” He looks a little concerned at your lack of response, pulling you against him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You in pain? Sorry, did my best to clean you up and everything.” Only then do you realize that the place between your thighs is no longer sticky, and that you’re wearing a fresh set of underwear with Satoru’s unbuttoned shirt wrapped around you.

“...What did we do?” You whisper in a muddled mixture of shock and amazement.

“You regret it?” he asks carefully, pulling back a little to gauge your reaction. You shake your head vehemently, snuggling back close to him. You breathe in his scent, eyes fluttering closed. You feel so right at home in his arms.

“No.” You ponder for a bit. “But it’s never gonna happen again, right?” Satoru’s breath catches in his throat.

“What?”

“I know last night might’ve given you the wrong impression.” You swallow hard, trying to contain the feelings bubbling up within you. Satoru just looks so beautiful under the morning sun, his crystal blue eyes glittering in the light. You know you’re not mistaken, you’ve never been so sure about it — you love him. “I don’t… do this. Thank you for being with me for this one night, but…” you trail off.

“Hey, hey.” You’re crying again, and this time, Satoru wipes the tears off your cheek, cupping your face between his hands. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t want just this from you,” you continue vaguely, looking away shamefully. “But I don’t… I don’t expect you to want the same.” He stills at your words, trying to decipher them properly.

“You still in love with me?” He deciphered them spot on, but that doesn’t stop a humiliated squeak from leaving you. You’re huffing, face on fire with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.

“F-Fine, whatever! You know already, so…” You look away, gnawing at your lower lip. “That’s w-why — “

“Don’t really know why you’re so upset, princess,” he cuts you off, pulling you out of the downward spiral he sees you’re about to fall into. “Think…” Satoru pauses to swipe at a tear at the corner of your eyes. “Still such a crybaby,” he can’t help but say, watching with amusement as you scowl at him with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.

“Ugh, jerk! Four years later and you still can’t take me seriously, God, why do I even bo — “ He cuts you off again, this time with a kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling gently, chuckling at your dumbfounded expression.

“Think I love you too,” he finishes. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” A few moments pass.

“...Are you fucking with me?” You look him dead in the eye.

“Technically, I already did,” he replies cheerfully. You look at him in disbelief. “Okay, sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Let me spell it out for you.” Satoru holds you close to him, tracing slow, comforting circles along your back. “Be my girlfriend?”

You answer him with a kiss of your own.

Suguru sighs, fishing in his pocket for his house keys as he approaches the front door. He’s worried about you; although the bastard had cheated on you and deserved to have you dump him, he knows you’re still probably heartbroken.

Or at least a little heartbroken. Suguru’s aware you never really that into your ex, if your drunk phone calls about how much you miss Satoru were enough evidence. Hiding those from his best friend was tough work; he would have to sit in the bathroom or the closet with his headphones and speak as quietly and carefully as possible to not rouse any suspicion.

Either way, he knows you definitely need some cheering up right now. He’s brought you a box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery, hoping it would be enough to at least get you in a talking mood.

Imagine his surprise when he opens the door and the first thing he sees is Gojo Satoru. Not only is Gojo Satoru standing in his kitchen, but he’s wearing Suguru’s apron, a gift from you many Christmases ago. To make things worse, he’s nearly butt naked under it, only wearing a pair of boxers that are — wait a second, are those Suguru’s as well?

“Oh hey, Suguru!” If Satoru is nervous or embarrassed, he plays it off well as he turns around and waves, flashing the stupid, faded picture of Remy from Ratatouille on his apron right in Suguru’s face. “You hungry? Was just makin’ some eggs.”

“What the actual fuck,” Suguru grits out, putting two and two together as you choose that moment to wander out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an unfamiliar collared button down that reaches down nearly to your knees. Satoru’s.

“S-Sugu.” Your eyes go round, stopping in your tracks. No one speaks for a moment. Satoru’s still happily cooking eggs. Suguru’s expression is stone cold. You’re staring at your brother with embarrassment written all over your face.

“Baby, you ready for food?” Satoru steps away from the stove to wrap an arm around your waist, smooching you on top of your head. You make a stuttered noise under your breath, glancing back at your brother.

Suguru’s smiling now, but not in the traditional sense. He looks almost maniacal as he slowly places the box of cupcakes on the table before locking eyes with Satoru. Finally, the white-haired man has enough shame for his casual grin to falter.

“What happened to no funny business?”

Satoru is forced to abandon the stove, running away from a fuming Suguru chasing after him with the first thing he could find on the dining table — a carrot.

“Sugu, stop, it’s okay — “ Your pleas fall on deaf ears as your brother is hell-bent on finding a way to murder his best friend with a vegetable. You sigh deeply, moving to go after them when you suddenly smell something burning. Your head snaps to where the eggs Satoru was cooking are now sitting blackened over the flame.

Needless to say, the first morning with Gojo Satoru as your official boyfriend was far from perfect.

Thankfully, you would have many, many more mornings with him, each more wonderful than the last, that this one quickly faded from importance.

But not from Suguru’s.

“I still remember,” Suguru says, clearing his throat for dramatic effect. “When I opened the door on that one morning, and you were not only in my house, but you were half-naked wearing my apron and my underwear — “

Satoru groans as the audience bursts into laughter at his best man’s speech, burying his face in your shoulder. You’re giggling right along with them, sparing your new husband a peck on the cheek as his best friend continues to tear him apart.

“Then you had the audacity to pretend nothing was wrong — “

Satoru knew he would never live this down, but he had zero regrets. Not when you’re sitting right next to him in a pretty white dress holding his hand under the table.

“Well.” Suguru looks over at him, raising a brow. “Got anything to say?” Satoru takes the mic from him, face splitting into a shit-eating grin as he says two words:

“Worth it.”

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #reader insert #female reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

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hoshigray · 1 month

Note

Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭

Love your works 🥰

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”

“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”

Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all.

He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna.

You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions.

In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.

However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.

Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man.

Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today.

It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess.

The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?”

Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.

In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.

“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”

He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you.

“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”

“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.

It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”

“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”

A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.”

You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft.

“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum.

“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”

“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds.

“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”

A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”

He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”

And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t.

“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”

“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”

Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.

Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.

Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”

His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over.

“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.

“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger.

Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”

He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace.

However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you. “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”

You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips.

“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”

“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.

“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”

Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.

It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”

“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.”

As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment.

“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.

“Now smile for me.”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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eiightysixbaby · 23 days

Note

haiii gf i got a request🙈

older! eddie catching u make him lunch for work and he ends up railing u against the kitchen counter😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

hiiiii queen 🤭 you always come in with the older!eddie requests bless ur heart.

18+ please! fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), use of pet names, food mention obv

Your soft hums from the kitchen are what wake him, the sound floating down the hall and through the cracked-open door.

Eddie stirs, stretching his limbs with a low rumble of a groan, pressing his face into his pillow and inhaling. He can smell the sweetness of your shampoo on the pillow case, and he smiles softly to himself. Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting the room in a honeyed glow. He sits up with another groan, scratching at the soft pudge of his stomach absentmindedly before standing.

He can hear the radio now, your hums following the tune of whichever song comes on. He can picture you in his mind; hips swaying softly as you sip your morning coffee, probably your second cup by now, picking at your breakfast. He can picture your bed head, your sleepy eyes, the smile that graces your face when he comes to say good morning.

What he isn’t expecting when he trods down the hall is to see you making a meal, his lunchbox open beside you on the countertop. He watches quietly as you stack different ingredients to make a sandwich, taking care to make it look good. His hungry eyes rake over your figure, trailing up your legs, lingering on the way your tiny little shorts hug the meat of your ass. He was right, your hips are swaying to the music, tempting him to come right up behind you and squeeze a handful of you.

You reach into the cookie jar, picking out a few of your homemade cookies — snickerdoodles, his favorite — before placing them into a plastic baggie and tucking them into the lunchbox. He stays silent as you cut up strawberries, placing them in a container followed by blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Giving him a well-rounded meal, wanting to keep him energized and cared for.

Something deep within Eddie stirs, and he finds himself simultaneously aroused and awestruck at the sweetness of your gesture. You’d never gone out of your way to make him lunch before, your relationship still in the early stages, and he feels his heart melt in his chest.

“Well don’t you look beautiful this morning,” he speaks finally, your head whipping around to face him.

“Oh! You startled me,” you laugh breathily, body relaxing entirely after realizing it’s only him.

He steps closer to you, stopping once his front is pressed to your back.

“What’re you doing in here, baby?” he asks, morning voice raspy and deep. It sends a shiver down your spine, shooting right to your core.

“Making you lunch, handsome,” you reply, turning your head to give him a kiss.

“Putting in all this work for little old me?” He looks around at the scattered ingredients, realizing you must’ve already gone to the store this morning to buy half of it.

“It’s hardly that much work,” you say simply. “And yes, we have to keep little old you fed.”

He snorts, letting his big arms wrap around your middle. His lips find their way to your neck, your head tilting immediately to allow him easier access. You whine before you can stop yourself, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop.

“You’re taking such good care of me,” Eddie purrs. “Think I need to take care of you.”

“Ed,” you breathe, squirming under his roaming hands. “You have to get ready for work.”

“It can wait,” he replies, lightly kicking your legs apart with his foot.

He lets one hand trail down your stomach, dipping beneath your shorts and your underwear in one swift motion. His calloused fingers tease your clit, the scruff on his face lightly scratching your skin as he continues to kiss your neck. You’re like putty in his hands, feeling your knees go weak the second he starts touching you. Your heart rate increases, breathing turning into pants and sighs as his thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over.

The fabric of his pajama pants stiffens, his cock growing harder by the second. You can feel it pressing against your ass, and you wiggle your hips tantalizingly.

“Mmm,” he hums, a sound that reverberates against you. “Don’t tease, honey.”

He stops his steady pace on your clit, drawing his hand back so that he can utilize both of them to pull down your cotton shorts. Your panties fall to the floor with them, and you kick them aside swiftly as you step out of the garments. Eddie’s hand returns to its previous place, this time slipping two fingers carefully into your heat, wetness pooling around them.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking to himself when you let out a high pitched whine.

“Fuck, Ed,” you sigh, tipping your head back to rest against his shoulder. Your eyes close, reveling in his touch.

His free hand tugs at the waistband of his pants, slipping them down far enough to free his aching cock. The tip is red and leaking when he grabs it in his fist, stroking it a few times for good measure. You’re a moaning mess in front of him, gripping hard at the countertop as his fingers curl expertly inside of you.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks, nipping at your ear.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, incapable of forming any actual words.

“I’m gonna make you feel even better. That okay with you?” he continues, awaiting your permission.

You can hear his fist running over his cock, along with the groan he tries to stifle but fails. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers in anticipation. “Yes, please,” you choke out, wincing slightly when he removes his fingers.

You steady yourself, body practically vibrating with need as his tip rubs against your folds. Large hands grip your hips as he sinks into you, punching the air from your lungs. He starts with slow, agonizing thrusts. Letting the drag of his cock make you delirious as it slides inch by inch out of you before gliding back in.

He’s well-versed in this, had his years of practice, able to have your legs trembling for him in seconds. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep yourself upright as he picks up his pace, pounding into you from behind relentlessly. Your nails dig into the countertop, back arching as his name tumbles from your lips on a loop.

“Such a good girl, feel so good around me, baby,” Eddie grunts, his fingertips gripping harshly into your skin, keeping you in place as he drives into you even harder.

You’re seeing stars, positive you’ve never felt this good in your life. The radio still croons from the corner of the kitchen, the sound hazy and far-off in your ears. You couldn’t name the song playing if there was a gun to your head, Eddie quickly fucking every thought from your brain until all you can possibly think about is him.

The tension in the pit of your stomach builds and builds, a coil that’s ready to snap, and you’re suddenly certain that if you grasp the counter any harder your fingers will bleed.

His balls slap against your skin, cock gliding easily in and out of your dripping cunt. One hand trails up beneath your shirt, kneading your breasts and pinching the nipples between two fingers. You moan hotly, feeling your legs quiver, turning to jelly in real time.

“Why don’t you cum for me, honey?” he rasps into your ear, and it’s enough to send you entirely over the edge.

He curses as your walls squeeze him, clamping down as if your goal is to keep him inside forever. He manages a few more thrusts before he’s pulling out, cumming all over your ass. You can feel it dripping down, coating your skin in his sticky warmth.

Breathing heavy, you come back to reality slowly, dazed. The lunchbox sits packed in front of you, and you’re reminded that you’re on a time crunch. Eddie’s surely approaching the point of being late for work, and he watches you turn around to look at the clock.

“Let’s get cleaned up before I have to leave,” he says, pulling you against him to kiss you sweetly. “I’ll get the shower going.”

You tug on his arm when he tries to walk away, getting his attention once more.

“Did you really get turned on just because I was making you lunch?” you ask with a smirk.

He laughs. “What can I say? I’m a simple man.”

“Noted.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #leah’s got mail 💌

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daisynik7 · 9 months

Text

Imagine fucking Nanami until the room is musty. Sweat is beading off both your foreheads, trickling down your necks. Blankets twisted beneath your bodies, the fitted sheets stripped from the corners, exposing the mattress. You can't tell whether it's still daylight or well into the night because the curtains are drawn shut the entire time and you've been going at it for what feels like hours. Your skin is sticky with slick, lube, and perspiration, but you don't care. He's leaving for a business trip tomorrow morning and you need your fill of him before he goes.

You've already exhausted each position at least twice, pussy too tight to take his large cock, which has been completely milked dry. Now, he's got all your toys laid out on the nightstand. Your clit is swollen and sensitive while he holds your vibrator against it, making you squirm and writhe into your fourth (or maybe fifth?) straight orgasm. Still, you're desperate for more, knowing how much you'll miss him the second he walks out that door.

"Feels good, huh sweetheart?" he purrs, pressing the fluttering tip deeper to your clit. He slides his fingers inside you, slippery with your cum, gliding easily with each pump. His cock rigid, prominent veins bulging on the shaft, completely spent, but still undeniably aroused. He wraps his wet fingers around it, stroking himself with the tip teasing your oh-so-inviting entrance. "Fuck, I'm going to come again. Come with me, honey. Please."

Increasing the intensity of the toy, the vibrations resonate throughout your body, sending you into a high with him. He rocks his hips forward for the sole purpose of shooting his hot load inside you, always so keen on stuffing you full of his seed. He pulls out just in time to watch one last spurt of cum spill onto your clit, flicking his wetted tip on it.

You smile at him, dazed and euphoric, maybe even at your limit. But is there really such a thing with Nanami? You sincerely can't get enough of him.

#nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #thinking about him a lot recently #nanami fanfic #nanami headcanons #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x f!reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami imagine #nanami kento smut

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musingsofahufflepuff · 3 months

Text

For You, I’d Fall from Grace

Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader; smut

summary: you’ve had a crush on mattheo for a while now and at one fateful slytherin party you get the chance to make your wildest dream come true

a/n: this one is pure porn, literally just a graphic oral (male receiving) description. i’d say i’m sorry, but i’m not. 18+ under the cut please. enjoy ♡

Music was thumping through the Slytherin common room as you made your way through the crowd. You scan the room trying to find your friends when you bump into a very firm chest.

You flick your eyes up to meet Mattheo Riddle’s face mere centimeters away from yours. He has a casual smile gracing his features, “lost princess?”

You feel heat rise in your cheeks and pool in your core. “Maybe, I was looking for some friends.”

He leans in until his lips ghost over your ear, “I can help you find your way, if you’re interested.” He nips at your earlobe, making you shiver. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

You give a quick nod then you’re in his arms, being led through the mass of students toward the boys dorms. You slip into his room, the door locking behind you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Before you’re fully aware of what’s happening, Mattheo’s lips are forcefully capturing yours. They were soft, a pleasant contrast to the rather heated kiss you were experiencing. Hot breath is against your mouth and Mattheo’s tongue prods at your lip, demanding entrance. You oblige, parting your teeth enough to let his tongue plunge into your mouth. A small whimper escapes you.

That seems to spur Mattheo on, his hands finding their way to the hem of your dress. You hum in approval and allow him to part just long enough to yank the fabric over your body. Mattheo is immediately back on your lips, somehow more aggressive than before. Fingers dig into your hips. A wave of heat rushes over you.

You feel yourself getting pulled, fingertips grasping at your skin, surely going to leave bruises behind. His warmth leaves you for a moment, long enough for you to open your eyes and see him sitting on the bed, posture relaxed and a cocky smirk on his lips. His hands return to your thighs and those deep brown eyes burn on your skin.

“What?”

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” His voice is husky, lust dripping from his words. He slides his hands up your body before landing on your lace bra.

Your heart nearly beats out your chest. Overcome with a spur of confidence, you grab Mattheo by the face and kiss him. He grabs your waist with one hand, yanking you onto his lap.

You suddenly find yourself straddling Mattheo. Tentatively, you grind down on the boy under you. A low groan comes from him as your mouths continue to move against each other. The sound shoots a jolt of electricity through you, making you grind with more force. The hands on your hips encourage your motions while your own hands find their way into Mattheo’s dark curls.

You pull away from the heated kiss to catch your breath, allowing Mattheo an opening to your neck. Between light sucking on your jaw and nips to your ear, Mattheo whispers in his intoxicatingly deep voice, “how do you feel about showing me what else you can do with that mouth baby?”

The pet name sends tingles down your spine, settling down into the heat in your lower abdomen. You’re nodding vigorously before you realize it. Mattheo taps your hip gently, ushering you up so he can remove his jeans. He stands back up and teasingly slow, he undoes his belt. Before he can move onto removing his actual pants, you’re fumbling with the buttons yourself. He takes the opportunity to pull his shirt off as well, making you shudder with how insanely attractive he is. You finally get his pants off, pulling his boxers down with them. His dick, now free from the confines of his underwear, springs up against his stomach. That cocky smirk still on his face, sits back down on his bed, leaning against the headboard. And Salazar if he doesn’t look like a dream.

The fire in your stomach rages hotter as the reality of the situation hits you. Fuck, you’re really about to suck Mattheo Riddle’s dick. Glancing up at his captivating eyes you climb up onto the bed as well, settling between his legs. You take a moment to press a kiss on his lips, which he eagerly returns. You trail a string of gentle kisses over his chest and abdomen. Feeling a little daring, you suck a hickey onto his hip bone.

You take his length in your hand, rubbing small circles on the underside. Mattheo exhales shakily, eyes following your movements. You can’t help yourself from kissing the tip of his dick before giving it a single lick where your thumb previously was. Mattheo releases a noise you take as an indication to keep going, so you do.

You put your tongue at the base of Mattheo’s cock, swiping it up towards the tip. A hand latches onto your hair. You repeat the motion, going tantalizingly slower this time, dragging your tongue along the underside where a vein bulges out. Another soft groan comes from him. You run your hand along his leg, stopping at his thigh to grip the soft flesh. His muscles tense under your palm, showing you just how toned years of quidditch has made him. You can’t stop the quiet moan that escapes you.

You give a few more teasing laps to his dick before the grip on your hair tightens. “Such a fucking tease, be good for me.”

He uses the grip on your head to guide his dick into your mouth. You take a couple moments to savor the feeling of his tip against your tongue, swiping it against the slit.

He inhales sharply, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth. You sink down until you hit the back of your throat. Glancing up you see him already looking down at you, “there we go sweetheart.”

You whimper near silently as you run your tongue along the length of his dick, nose buried in his pelvis. His moan is louder this time and oh so heavenly.

You hallow your cheeks and slowly lift your mouth off Mattheo, popping the rim of the head from your lips before quickly taking him fully in your mouth once again, swallowing him down. Mattheo lets out a surprisingly pornographic moan. And holy shit it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced.

You let your hands resume wandering over his thighs as you continue to bob your head up and down his shaft. After a few more rounds of nearly pulling away and swiftly coming back down Mattheo pushes your head to meet the base, thrusting up making his cock hit the back of your throat. The force and surprise make you gag slightly at the sudden shove, tears prickling in your eyes.

The gagging had apparently been what Mattheo was after, because it caused another moan to erupt out of him.

“Salazar, your mouth feels so good baby,” this time the name makes you moan. “Do you like that baby? Never would have guessed you were such a slut princess.”

You can’t stop the weak whimpers that came out of you as you rhythmically rub your tongue against him. You swallow him so far the tip pushes past the back of your throat, desperate for more praise.

“You were just made for this, huh baby? Fuck!” Mattheo thrusts his hips up as you run your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot.

As Mattheo continues to fuck your throat, you can feel your heart beat throbbing in your pussy and the growing wetness in your underwear. The thrusts have gotten more frantic and you know your throat is going to be bruised to hell tomorrow. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You work your tongue against Mattheo’s cock as it slips back and forth in your mouth. Under your fingertips you feel the boy tense.

“Fuck princess—baby, I’m close.” The muscles in his thighs continue to flex and his cock twitches every few seconds. The fingers in your hair tighten more than you thought possible. You moan louder, matching the sounds escaping Mattheo’s lips.

You feel Mattheo tense one more time before warm cum is spilling into your mouth. You savor the taste of him on your tongue before swallowing. The hand gripping your head loosens, but you don’t let up.

You’re not satisfied with just one.

You don’t stop working your tongue against Mattheo’s shaft, roughly sucking on the head, before restarting your thrusting motion. One of your hands slides up his torso feeling his abs spaz from your relentless administrations. The hand once again tightens its grip on your head, moans and a few whimpers falling out of Mattheo’s mouth.

Soon after, his cock twitches in your mouth again. “Fuck fuck fuck, gonna come again babe,” a low moan follows his words.

You feel Mattheo’s dick release everything it had left and slow your motions. Gently pulling off his cock, you look at his pretty face looking back at you, eyes filled with need. He once again grabs your waist, pulling you back on top of him. Soaked underwear meets his dick and he groans.

It’s gonna be a wild night.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #smut #slytherin boys

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marvelfilth · 3 months

Text

The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow #the mustache

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godslino · 3 months

Text

PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

Text

gang shit | knj

Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.

○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader

○ Rating: Sfw

○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor

○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)

○ Word Count: 1204

○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples

○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨

○ Post Date: January 1, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i

“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm.

You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please.

Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?

“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest.

You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”

Apparently, that was offensive.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip.

“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man.

“Did she?”

“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”

“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…”

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced.

You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually!

“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?”

“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.

You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck.

“She’s adorable,” you say softly.

“She’s weird as shit.”

Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs.

“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”

“Yup.”

Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown.

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?”

You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids.

“Plus, I like being the fun parent.”

“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals.

“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you.

“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.”

Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised.

“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence.

“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are.

“You’re the one who–”

“HEY! NO HITTING!”

Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”

Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology.

“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager.

“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”

It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around.

“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon.

“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.”

“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye.

“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”

“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist.

“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?”

Oh.

“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.”

Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #gang shit #100 drabble challenge

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pandoraslxna · 4 months

Text

❄️ Kinkmas — 08. Tail play ❄️

Jake Sully x female Avatar reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: tail play, tension, making out, age difference, alien biology, dirty talk, a/b/o dynamics

"It's a tail."

"Correct."

"I- I have a tail. I really have tail, oh my god!"

"Yeah, you do, kid."

It wagged and curled ever so slightly when you lifted up your shirt to get a better look at what you had to deal with now. It hung over your skimpy shorts and started where your tailbone would be. Fascinating. Not that this was your first time seeing a tail on a na‘vi or avatar, but still.

"...I'm gonna touch it."

It's just not every day that you wake up with a tail attached to your body, after all. A blue, strangely cat-like, alien body. Your alien body.

"Go for it." Jake crosses his thick arms over his chest as he watches you in amusement, a knowing grin on his lips like he thought about the time he himself had woken up in this strange new body he had to adjust to.

Just as anticipated, your tail was soft. The skin taunt and warm to the touch. But it kept moving, making it harder for you to get ahold of it. The constant wagging and curling and swaying proved to be mildly annoying, actually. You wrapped a hand a few inches above the base; half out of wanting it to stop slipping away, and half because you wanted to see if it'd... pop off. Which you hoped it wouldn't, but you still wanted to satiate your curiosity.

"Okay but don’t–"

And then you gave it a firm tug.

You jolted at the sudden sensation of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. Your own voice was cut off in your throat, causing you to let out a sort of drawn-out gasp or… more like a moan.

Glancing up at Jake who still stood besides you with a smirk, you quickly straightened up and then attempted to cover up what just happened by letting go of your tail completely.

"You okay, sweetheart?", he huffed out a laugh, cocking his head to the side as you tried to avoid his intense gaze.

"You, uh...", you clear your throat, "You wanna explain what that was?"

"That’s a pleasure spot you just hit", he said, a little to nonchalant for your liking.

"A what?"

You then flinched at the sudden sensation of a hand around your tail. It still felt so strange to have what was essentially a whole other limb on your body, and with it being new and all that, it was more sensitive than you thought when Jake wrapped his big hand around it. A sharp tug made your whole body jolt once again, a similar sensation to having your hair pulled, you noted.

Stars blinked in the corners of your vision for less than a second, before Jake spoke again, his voice having grown a tad deeper and it’s just now that you realize just how close he had gotten to you.

"A pleasure spot, kid", he explains, "It’s supposed to feel good when you tug on it. Helps to get you in position when you’re in heat."

Heat?

Suddenly there’s another tug. Harder this time. Your back arches and you have to bite your lip to try and stop any and all involuntary noises from escaping your mouth.

Jake‘s low, almost seductive chuckle sends goosebumps all over your skin as he traces his fingers up your spine, then back down to give your tail's base a little squeeze. This earns him an array of short gasps, moans and twitches. A deep flush spreads all over your cheeks, up to your ears that had folded back against your head.

"Feel how your back arches?", Jake asks, and suddenly his lips are so close to your ear that you can feel them touching your soft lobe. "That tingly sensation in your spine?"

"Y-Yes, I- hmh", you sputter, voice skipping like a scratched CD. It was hard to get the words out with Jake’s hand stroking up and down your tail, him being entirely too close to you, mixed with that strange sensation radiating off the hand around your tail.

"If I do it again, you‘ll want to spread those pretty legs for me", he whispers, followed by a smug, "See?"

Right on cue, he tugs on your tail again and the feeling almost makes you dizzy. It’s like your body suddenly has a mind of its own, because your knees buckle, your back arches further and your thighs instinctively want to spread, so you balance your weight between your feet and put them just a little wider apart.

A pair of strong hands grab your narrow hips as if you gave the impression you would colllabs any minute, but you’re so far gone in this lustful haze, you’re just glad for some stability. Meanwhile, Jake runs his thumbs up and down your skin, causing you to let out soft hums as your tail sways from side to side.

"F-Fuck", you mutter breathlessly, not yet believing what had just happened. Jake’s hands however don’t stop just there. They wander around your waist, until they’re both on your backside.

Finally free from any hands holding it in place, your tail continues to sway and curl in what seems to be anticipation or nervousness. Having a tail must’ve been the worst if you’re trying to suppress any emotions, you thought, flushing deeper in embarrassment.

"You know", Jake then leans in closer, close enough his chest was tightly pressed against yours, his lips so dangerously close to your own as he spoke, "when they fuck", there’s a pause to let the words sink in, "they often do it on all fours. They tug on their tails to get themselves in deeper."

And then you felt his tongue, warm and wet, swipe across your bottom lip, and like on instinct your mouth opened to welcome him. Your quiet, muffled moans from Jake exploring the inside of your mouth quickly became much, much louder as he slides a hand down your backside and continued to stroke your tail.

"If you wanted this so badly, you shoulda said somethin' sooner", Jake spoke against your kiss swollen lips, his hand keeping still so he'd be able to get a coherent response from you. "Want me to show you how they do it, hm?"

"Y-Yes", you exhale hastily, and if you were in any other state of mind, you’d probably feel embarrassed over how desperate you must’ve sounded to him. "Yes, please."

"Attagirl. Get on your hands and knees then, and I‘ll show you what that pretty tail is good for."

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #jake sully #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully avatar #atwow #dilf jake sully #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar smut #jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x omaticaya!reader

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greatooglymooglyyy · 3 months

Text

Bone Tired- Matt Sturniolo

a/n: since i did chris, might as well do matt. i think i like writing these. send me requests if you want and let me know what you think? also there is a bonnet mention cus y'know... i'm mixed. idk

contains: fluff, cussing, light kissing, alludes to sex but nothing on page, established relationship, 800+ words

I groan as I wake up from the feeling of suddenly being way too cold. I glance over to my left, where, of course, Matt has rolled the entire damn duvet around himself like a burrito. I sigh and check my phone for the time. 8:34am. Might as well get up, I guess. I sit up, getting ready to slide out of bed, when I feel something tug me backwards. Matt pulls me into his side and back under the covers before curling around me.

“Where are you going?” He asks, voice still thick with sleep and his eyes barely cracked.

“Ohhhhh, so you wake up when I'm getting out of bed but not when I'm over here freezing to death for half the night?” I joke, snuggling my head into the crook of his neck.

“That’s on you; it’s eat or get eaten in this blanket game.” He says back, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“I really do have to get up soon. I have plans this morning.”

“Do they involve leaving this bed?”

“Bro-”

He makes the wrong answer buzzing sound and I fight back my laugh.

“Matty.”

“Better. Still no.”

I’m silent for a few seconds before I play my favorite card. I face him, weaving my fingers through his hair, and whisper softly, “Baby.” And I watch him melt, like he does every single time. "I don't like pet names,” my ass.

“When’re you coming back?” He asks, leaning in close and dropping kisses down the side of my jaw.

“Tonight.”

He sighs and untangles his body from mine. “I feel like I never see you in the daylight anymore.” He says as he slips out of bed and stretches.

“I know. I know. It's busy season at work, and they are killing me.” I say, following him out of bed into the bathroom. He turns the shower on while I start to brush my teeth. When I’m finished, I look into the mirror and meet his eyes, finding him leaning on the wall and watching me.

“You know you can quit, right?" He says, for maybe the 100th time this month. I roll my eyes and turn to him, preparing to give him my whole independent woman spiel. But as soon as I open my mouth, he cuts me off.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re Hercules. Shut up. The water is hot. Come on."

I laugh and lift my arms, letting him peel my shirt off for me then follow him into the shower.

***********

I turn my car off with a sigh and lay my head against the steering wheel, trying to convince myself to get out of the car. After 15 hours straight of dealing with the most annoying customers the world could hand me, walking seems like a big ask from me right now. I tap my hand against the steering wheel, wondering how much my back would suffer if I just slept here tonight.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I look out my window to see Matt looking in equal parts annoyed and concerned. I unlock my door, and he swings it open, leaning his head in.

“Are you insane? Chris said he heard you pull up 20 minutes ago. Why are you just sitting in a car at night in Los Angeles? Do I look like fucking Batman to you? If you go missing, all I can do for you is cry.” He rants, reaching around me to undo my seatbelt.

“Sorry.” I say, my words almost slurring from how tired I am.

He pauses, probably expecting way more attitude from me. “Alright. Come on. Let’s get you in bed."

He pulls me out of the car and picks me up like I'm a small child. I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, appreciating how lucky I got with him. When we’re back in his room, he puts me down on the bed, goes to my drawer to find my favorite big t-shirt, and hands it to me.

“You got this part, or you want the full toddler experience?” He jokes, already heading off to the bathroom.

"You've never had any problem undressing me before.” I shoot back as I finish slipping it on and crawling under the covers. He laughs and comes back with my bonnet, makeup remover, and moisturizer in tow.

I look up at him with what has to be the goofiest smile on my face, and he scrunches his face up at me as he begins taking my makeup off.

“What?” He says, his tongue slightly out as he focuses on getting off my mascara.

“You love me.” I whisper, half to myself.

I feel him pause his movement for a second as my statement rattles him, but he quickly recovers. He continues as if he didn’t hear me, but I catch the slightest smile on his face before I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.

“Very evident, kid.”

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo

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enviedear · 5 months

Note

Okay but Billy with an innocent reader>>>>>>>> LIKE HES SO PROTECTIVE OML

billy + innocent!reader

stop i love this. this should be an au hell i may just write more for it

tw— for use of a gun, toothrotting fluff

request

"go ahead, honey. pull the trigger." billy's voice is sweet against your ear.

your face morphs into a coy apprehension, "and you're sure this won't send me flying on my rear?"

he chuckles, straightening your arms a bit, "m'right here, i won't let that happen."

your eyes focus in on the three rusty cans in the distance, set atop a dry rotting log. you know there's no way you're going to hit them all. you'd be lucky to hit one.

but billy is adamant in both that you need to learn how to shoot, and that you’ll be a ‘natural’. his driving objective, however, being that since he can't be with you from sun up to sun down, he'll have to settle with teaching you how to fend for yourself.

it's not unlike him to behave this way. in the months you've known the gunslinger, you've come to find that his urge to protect you is enormous.

his protection isn't reserved just against the infamous wild men of the west, but rather, anything and anyone. if it could possibly do you harm, physically or mentally, he's there to guard and defend.

like a knight out of the princess tales your mother used to tell you.

you let out a harsh breath before your finger begins to press into the trigger. too soft at first, the metal remains in its' spot, you muster up all your courage and pull the trigger. your eyes are screwed shut as the bullet whistles away, and you quickly turn into billy.

his arms ensnare you, wrapping you tight, "what're you hidin' for? you hit it dead center, sweetheart!"

you lift your head, staring unabashedly into his blue eyes, "did i really?"

he hums, using his dominant hand to steer your gaze away from him and toward the target. sure enough, the can on the left side has a small hole right in its middle.

billy chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back, "told you, my girl's a natural."

you can't help but grin, the tension releasing from your shoulders, "or i've got a good teacher." you tease.

he gives you a squeeze before letting go, gesturing toward the cans, "c'mon, let's see if you can do it again."

emboldened by your first success, you square your shoulders and take aim. this time, you focus a bit more, remembering the sensation of the recoil and trying to replicate it. the shot rings out, and you open your eyes to find another can hit.

billy lightly claps you on the back, "see? just like that, sweetheart."

as you reload, you can't help but appreciate the way the afternoon sun plays on his weathered hat, casting thin rays upon his lips, "m’not as hopeless as i thought."

he grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "do i e’ver lie to you?”

you ignore his sly remark, focusing back in on your targets. with newfound confidence, you continue to practice, the rhythmic sound of gunshots filling the air. as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

the sounds of gunfire continue, each shot feeling more controlled and confident than the last. with every successful hit, billy's pride in your progress shines through his loving stare. he stands by your side, offering guidance and encouragement, a quiet guardian in the backdrop of your learning.

as the sun dips even lower, casting a dim hue over the landscape, you catch a glimpse of billy watching you with a softness in his eyes. he often got this way, completely lost in you. especially when you're doing things his way— not in the way you'd normally feel inclined. you're rather tame and harmless in comparison to billy, the entire west, really.

growing up away from the fast-growing townships and travelers, when you met billy he completely flipped your world upside down. you gave him all your firsts, shooting his pistol only adds to the expansive list of firsts you've given him.

you go to take aim again, eyes closing as you shoot, still too frightened to keep them open— your bullet flies past your targets, missing entirely. you've grown used to the sound of a hit and when you open your eyes to find the miss, you groan.

billy's safeguarding nature becomes even more apparent as you meet his winsome eyes, his gaze lingers on you, subtle worry etched on his features.

he knows you're inexperienced, a stark contrast to the harsh realities of the world he's accustomed to. he knows it isn't, but if this were a shootout, that big of a miss would have cost you your life.

the mere thought of you in that situation is something he's not willing to entertain.

"you're doing mighty fine, sweetheart," he reassures, a tenderness in his voice that speaks volumes, "but remember, there's more to this than cans and targets. gotta keep those pretty eyes of yours open, alright?"

you nod, appreciating his concern and the earnest care he extends. it dawns on you that learning to shoot isn't just a practical skill— it's a testament to the depth of billy's affection. he's arming you with more than just a handgun— he's giving you a piece of his own resilience and determination.

as the sun sets, casting long shadows across the landscape, you take a moment to stand side by side with billy, appreciating the warmth of his presence. the sky paints hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the bond that's been forged between you.

"thanks, billy," you say, sincerity lacing your words. "for teaching me, for being patient."

he smiles, a softness in his expression that contrasts with the rugged exterior, "my pleasure, sweetheart. always want you to be able to take care of yourself."

with the last rays of sunlight fading, you holster the gun, feeling a newfound sense of empowerment. billy wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back towards the homestead. as you walk together, the echoes of gunshots in the ears serve as a reminder that you're not just learning to shoot— you're learning to navigate billy's world, and with his protection, you're sure you'll do just fine.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

#billy the kid #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader

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luvring · 1 year

Text

AFTER BECOMING YOUR BOYFRIEND

gn!reader | bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, iwaizumi, matsukawa, kageyama, yamaguchi, sakusa

BOKUTO can't stop grinning and kissing you. his hands are stuck either cupping your face or holding your hips. he plants quick pecks to your lips and feels his heart rate pick up at your laugh. "i'm really your boyfriend," he repeats, convincing himself he isn't dreaming.

AKAASHI's entire body relaxes as he says "thank god." he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder and huffs a laugh at himself. you bring your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. “did you think i’d say no?” “i was scared you would,” he murmurs. “and i don’t think i could bring myself to try returning the gifts.”

ATSUMU excitedly changes your contact where he already put a heart next to your name to be your new title: "MY PARNTNR/BOYFIRND/GIRLFJEND" (awful spelling included and vital). he adds emojis like 😁🫂💯🔥 before taking a screenshot to send to his group chat. he won't talk about how he almost sent it to you and nearly had a heart attack.

OSAMU texts to ask “when did you know you liked me?” later that night. he bites his lip and his eyes shoot lasers into the dots that show you’re typing. an embarrassed smile appears on his face when you say “when u apologized over and over after almost hitting me with a ball the first time we met :) u were cute” because it really was a cringe-worthy introduction, but at least you both liked each other since the beginning.

IWAIZUMI can’t stop thinking of getting you a gift. thinking of giving you a gift every once in a while wasn’t unusual, but he tries really hard to get a hold of himself when he realizes he's scanning every store he walks past for something you might like. he fails, obviously, when you end up getting a gift every time you meet up for the next few weeks.

MATSUKAWA blurts out "seriously?" after you say yes. he tries to ignore how his face heats up when you tilt your head and laugh. you’re still laughing when he pulls you into him as if to hug you, only to start tickling you. he jokingly threatens, “don’t laugh at me, i’m your boyfriend,” when you yelp and hit his side.

KAGEYAMA can’t stop replaying the moment you guys officially start dating in his head, even and especially while practicing. he’s setting the ball when he thinks about how you smiled and suddenly forgets what he's doing. his face is red from being flustered and the volleyball smacking him on the forehead.

YAMAGUCHI, when he has the time, marks down the date in his calendar. butterflies flutter in his stomach as he types out "WE’RE DATING !!!!!! :)) " in the notes. it's been less than a day and he's already (over)thinking of what to do to celebrate the closest, reasonable anniversary, whenever that is. in a month, probably, he thinks.

SAKUSA’s glad he has a privacy screen protector because if anyone noticed how often he opened your chat to reread your texts he’d never live it down. there’s a small smile under his mask at your silly flirting memes, and just the thought of how your “take care of yourself!” messages are with him as your boyfriend in mind.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #matsukawa x reader #kageyama x reader #yamaguchi x reader #sakusa x reader

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chaotic-mystery · 5 months

Text

Better Luck Next Time

Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: this was from a request I got recently asking for dbf Joel and premature ejaculation and I hope you like it!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, porn w little plot, age gap but not specified, established secret relationship, handjob, fingering, nipple play, pet names (little one, good girl, baby doll, etc) Joel is over the fucking moon for you, premature ejaculation, embarrassment of shooting too early, mentions of masturbation and phone sex. LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING. || word count: 1.6k || photos are for aesthetics, reader is not described physically || no use of yn ||

“I missed you so much baby, god damn you’re even more beautiful than the day you left.” His words smashed against your lips as he grabbed at your waist to pull you on top of his lap, your legs slipping to either side of his thighs. You were only gone for two weeks on vacation to your friends but to Joel it seemed like two months.

“I missed you more, Joel. I really missed you.” You purr as your hands run down his sides and begin to palm his hardening bulge through the faded pair of jeans that was shielding you from what you wanted. The entire time you were away, he would send lewd photos of him playing with himself, building up this big talk about how he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, he’d take you down all night, the stuff you heard almost every night for those two weeks when he’d call you in the middle of his alone time.

“Can’t believe the way you jumped on me in front of your dad, sweetheart. Tryna get me killed, huh? You miss me that much?” Joel's teeth sink into the skin on your neck and you chuckle slightly as you try to yank his zipper down and the button free. “I’m so hard for you baby, god damn it hurts so good.” You somehow manage to fish out his throbbing cock that was spilling pre-cum from the slightly swollen and red tip. His head tilts back against the couch as soon as you wrap your palm around him, tugging slightly and circling over the head before going back to the base of his shaft. “Of course I missed you, you made it hard considering you’d call every night and let me hear you touch yourself thinking about me.” The teasing tone in your voice had his heart racing and you kissed his exposed neck slowly, matching the rhythm of your hand on his cock.

Joel hisses as he grips your ass roughly, “f-fuck baby, keep that up and I’ll do anything for you, such a good girl.” The way his moans poured from his mouth made you impatient for that filling feeling of every inch of him inside of you, telling you how pretty you look as he splits you open.

His grunts grow louder and his arms extend over the back of the couch while the pair of dark brown heavy eyes stare at your hand that had all the power over him. Your breathing started to pick up and almost match Joel’s while your cunt was thumping inside your saturated panties just at the way you could see how needy he was for you. You subconsciously started to ride his thigh to give yourself a little release and he took note of it, grabbing the plush skin on your hip and squeezing for you to go faster.

“That’s it, baby doll -ohh shitt- you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You do such a better job at this than me.” He huffed and adjusted on the couch cushion, scooting down just a bit for you to ride him better. Joel liked the feeling of your panties on his jeans, painting the fabric with your arousal.

The pair of you were panting harder with every motion of your wrist and hips, Joel’s name was drenched in lust as you moaned out for him. His chest rises and falls quicker the more you rubbed the underside of the head and he grabs your wrist, “Baby, wait hang on don’t-ahh-” without warning Joel’s cum was pooling in your fist and down your knuckles like a volcano.

Joel grunts through gritted teeth with every pump from the tip of his cock as he empties himself in your hand. You sit still while he finishes and he reaches over to the tissue box on the coffee table and hands you a wad, helping clean up the mess that dripped down onto his groin.

The room falls quiet as Joel sets the tissues to the side and tucks his soft cock back into his underwear. His deep sigh caused you to look at his face and you could tell by the redness of his face how embarrassed he was.

“I um..I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to..” Joel stopped himself as he clenched his jaw and met your gaze, his hand still on your hip and squeezed softly. This was new territory for the both of you. You had never been in a situation like this before but it was nothing to be ashamed about. “Baby it’s fine, really. It happens, you were just too excited to see me.” You try to lighten the mood but he wasn’t responding the way you had hoped. Reaching out and cupping his face gently, your thumb brushes over his cheek to reassure him you’re okay.

“Hey, cmon now. Don’t be embarrassed please..it was actually kinda fun seeing you so worked up over me and trying your best not to come.” Your words sandwiched between your lips and his cheek as you kissed softly, trailing to his lips until he finally pecked you back.

“It’s just so embarrassing, I can't keep up with a youngin’ like you all the time.” Joel tries to turn away from you but the grip you have on his face restricts him from doing so.

“Joel I don’t care, I just like taking care of you. The rest doesn’t mean shit to me.” More kisses are plastered on his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He pleads as he trails his soft kisses down your jaw to your neck and chest, kissing the tops of your breasts. What started out as loving exchanges of affection turned quickly into lustful nips at your skin with faint groans every moment his lips touched you. Before you could react, Joel was yanking down your shirt and bra, exposing your beautiful breasts he looked at like a starving man.

Joel’s warm tongue licked a stripe up your hardened nipple and pinched the other one firmly as he closed his eyes and began to suck and bite, tugging with his teeth to get your attention. Yanking out moans from you was so easy for him, he didn’t have to do much. Hell, he could yawn and stretch and his shirt could ride up just a little on his stomach and you could moan at the sight of it. “You’re so good to me little one, what’d I do to deserve you? Should I make you come since you’re so good to me?”

His free hand unwraps from your waist and travels up your skirt to your aching cunt and Joel’s thick fingers start to taunt your clit from outside your panties. “Yes, Joel, please I need you so bad, don’t you feel it? You feel how turned on I am watching you come too fast and getting bashful about it?” You teased and with that he shoves your panties to the side, fingers instantly finding your clit and rubbing tight little circles over it. He growls against your breasts as he sucks on the other one, your hand cupping the side to help it in his mouth more. “Yes yes yes, that’s it, just like that, please Joel.”

You can feel the grin grow on his face as he plunges his fingers deep inside your entrance, the squelching making you blush while he starts to pump in and out of you, taking his saturated fingers to your clit to rub a few circles before going back inside you. “Oh, that’s my good girl, you like it when I touch you here?.” He rhetorically asks to be an ass, sucking on your nipple harder as he curls his fingers to get inside you.

“Y-yes, baby -oohh fuckk- please don’t stop-p” You sputter out, your body trembling the more he toyed with you. The thought of your dad coming back from getting food any moment was running through your head and only made this hotter. What would he say if he found you like this on Joel’s lap, his hand in your panties and his lips attached to your tits for dear life? His best friend taking his daughter like this?

Hips bucking with every motion of his hand, you could tell you were close and ready to let go all over him. “Joel-I’m gonna c-come- don’t stop don’t stop-ooo!” With a squeal and your legs trying to close shut, your pussy clenches around his fingers as you dissolve into pleasure while Joel’s tongue licks over both nipples, fingers just barely thrusting inside. The raging lust coursed through your veins and you kissed him passionately, still grinding on his fingers until you couldn’t move anymore. Joel pulls away and leans back against the couch, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into him and take a second to breathe.

“Welcome home, baby doll.” He whispers with a chuckle and rubs your back.

The deadbolt on the front door in the other room brings you right back to Earth and you fly off Joel, shoving your tits back into your bra and adjusting your panties under the skirt that was riding up your waist. Joel hurries and grabs the tissues and walks them to the bathroom garbage, staging it to look like he just finished in there.

“Who’s hungry?” Your dad asks, walking into the room with a brown sack of warm take out.

Joel stood behind him and you two exchanged looks, big grins plastered on your instead answering your father.

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