#/i want to CRUSH him under my fist- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whore-ibly-hot · 8 months ago

Text

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere boy #tw.bullying #tw.noncon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere headcanons #tw.dubcon #gender neutral reader #yandere oc x reader #drabble #yandere boarding school #x reader smut #yandere boarding school x reader #tw.breeding

7K notes · View notes

sonarspace · 3 months ago

Text

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆STUDY BREAK (FT. GOJO)

꒰ synopsis. being in the same class as gojo satoru was bad enough; having him as the professor’s insufferably smug assistant made it worse. content. college au. nsfw. (teasing. slight praise kınk. fıngering. oräl. p in v. multiple ōrgasms.) wc. 5.3k. an. to clear up any confusion 😭.. satoru’s a senior student + the professor’s assistant in the course you’re both taking. (fic is kinda all over the place so idk if this works but let’s pretend like it does).

there’s something about gojo satoru that drives you insane. not in the fun, heart-fluttering way that comes with a secret crush or the thrill of banter. no—this is the kind of insane where you want to hurl something, preferably at his stupidly smug face.

“class,” he drawls, leaning lazily against the desk at the front of the room, his shirt slightly rumpled like he doesn’t give a damn—and he doesn’t. “these papers? a mixed bag. some of you really impressed me. others… well.” his lips curve into a smirk. “let’s just say the recycling bin was hungry.”

you groan inwardly, already sensing where this is going. he’s done this before, holding your work hostage like it’s part of his routine entertainment.

“and here,” he continues, brandishing a paper like a prop. your paper. “is a prime example of someone… almost getting there. strong ideas, decent execution, but the conclusion? oof. fell harder than my GPA sophomore year.”

a few students laugh. your jaw tightens, the heat in your chest bubbling up into something sharp and biting. he doesn’t have to name you; everyone knows exactly whose paper he’s waving around.

“anyway,” he finishes with a shrug, tossing the paper onto the desk like it’s disposable. “there’s potential. keep at it.”

you don’t even wait for class to end before your resolve solidifies: you’re going to kill him. maybe not literally, but metaphorically? absolutely.

you don’t plan on storming to his dorm room. it just… happens. one moment, you’re replaying his smug grin and the way his eyes gleamed when he mocked your paper, and the next, you’re standing outside his door, your fist raised to knock.

he answers quickly, and the sight of him makes you falter. his hair is damp, sticking out in soft tufts like he just got out of the shower, and his plain white t-shirt clings to him in a way that’s almost—no. you shake the thought away.

“well, this is unexpected,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that’s all teeth. “if you wanted private tutoring, you could’ve just asked.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you snap, brushing past him into the room without waiting for an invitation.

he whistles low under his breath. “feisty tonight. to what do I owe the pleasure?”

you spin to face him, your hands clenched at your sides. “what is your problem with me?”

he blinks, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning full force. “problem? sweetheart, i don’t have a problem with you.”

“you humiliate me in class,” you say, your voice rising. “you make these comments, you single me out—what, are you that bored with your life?”

“humiliate?” he echoes, feigning a wounded look. “i think you mean ‘motivate.’ you’re one of the smartest people in that class. if i don’t push you, who will?”

“that’s bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you don’t ‘push’ anyone else.”

“because no one else is as fun,” he replies easily, his grin tilting into something sharper. “the way you react, the fire in your eyes—it’s addictive.”

your breath catches, the heat in your chest spreading to your cheeks. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, here you are,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between you feel heavier. “in my room. alone.”

“because you drive me crazy,” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

his eyebrows lift slightly, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by your outburst. “good crazy or bad crazy?”

he takes a step closer, too close. the kind of close that makes your pulse stutter and your instincts scream at you to step back—but you don’t. instead, you stand your ground, your jaw clenched as he waits for your answer, his gaze steady and almost daring.

“what does it matter?” you mutter, your voice quieter now, the heat of your earlier anger ebbing into something more uncertain.

“it matters,” he says, his voice low as his eyes flicker to your lips. “because I need to know if I can do this.”

before you can ask what he means, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. his hand finds your waist, tugging you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

it’s like a dam breaking. weeks—months—of tension and unspoken words all come crashing down in a rush of heat and urgency. his other hand slides into your hair, tilting your head to kiss you deeper, and the sound you make in response is embarrassing and needy, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

you should stop this. you should push him away, tell him he’s crossed a line. but the way his thumb brushes against your waist, the way he tilts his head just right, the way he kisses like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as you have—it’s addictive. you can’t stop. you don’t want to.

but then reality slams into you like a cold gust of wind. what are you doing? your chest tightens as the weight of it crashes down all at once, the heat between you dissolving into something sharper, more terrifying.

you pull back abruptly, your breathing uneven. “i can’t.”

he blinks, his expression softening from one of heat to confusion. “what?”

“this—this is a mistake,” you stammer, backing away. your hands feel clumsy as they fumble behind you for the door. “i shouldn’t have come here.”

“wait.” his hand reaches out, almost instinctively, but you’re already opening the door, your chest tight and your mind racing as you step out into the hall. you don’t look back, even as the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin.

────

you avoid him after that. in class, you sit as far from him as possible, claiming a seat in the back corner, close to the door. the usual tension he brought to the room—his teasing remarks, his piercing gaze when he caught you rolling your eyes—feels conspicuously absent. he doesn’t call on you, doesn’t glance your way, doesn’t even acknowledge you.

it’s been weeks since that night in his dorm, and as the semester nears its end, the distance feels heavier with every passing class. his silence, once the thing you desperately wanted, now presses on your chest like a weight. you wonder if he regrets it, if he’s just as caught in the what-ifs as you are—or if he’s already forgotten.

the final project looms, deadlines creeping closer, but the distraction isn’t enough to stop the quiet ache that’s settled in your chest. you remind yourself it’s for the best. boundaries were crossed, a line you know you shouldn’t have stepped over. it doesn’t matter how he made you feel, how his kisses left you breathless and yearning. none of it matters.

and yet, every time you leave class, you rush, head down, praying he won’t stop you. and every time he doesn’t, the ache grows.

when class ends today, the air feels heavier than usual. your peers chatter around you, their voices blending into background noise as you pack your things quickly, eyes fixed on the door. if you can just slip out unnoticed, avoid another day of walking the tightrope you’ve been balancing on since that night—

but then a hand wraps gently around your wrist, warm and familiar.

“you’re avoiding me,” he says, his voice low and steady. there’s no edge to it, no teasing grin or smug undertone. just quiet certainty, like he’s stating a fact.

you freeze, your heart thudding in your chest. it’s been so long since he’s said anything to you that the sound of his voice directed at you feels foreign.

“i’m late,” you mumble, tugging your wrist weakly in an attempt to free yourself. “let me go.”

“you don’t have any classes after this,” he says, his grip loosening but not letting go. his eyes meet yours, calm but resolute. “i checked your schedule.”

your jaw tightens, irritation flashing through you. “you shouldn’t have access to my schedule.”

“probably not,” he admits with a shrug, a hint of the old satoru creeping into his voice, “but i’m me.”

you open your mouth to snap at him, to tell him to back off, but he cuts you off first. “come have coffee with me.”

you blink, caught off guard by the casual offer. “what?”

“coffee,” he repeats, his tone light, as if this is perfectly normal. “you like coffee, don’t you?”

“that’s not the point,” you snap, yanking your wrist free from his grasp. “what is this, some weird apology?”

“it’s not weird,” he says, his smirk faltering slightly now, his expression open and strangely earnest. “it’s just coffee. with me.”

you stare at him, struggling to find the right words. “gojo,” you begin, your voice heavy, “you and i are not friends.”

his face falls, the shift so quick and unexpected that it makes your stomach twist. you see the way his shoulders tense, the way his gaze drops for just a moment, but you force yourself to look away. without giving him a chance to reply, you turn and push past him, your steps quick and unsteady as you leave the classroom.

the ache in your chest grows with every step, and even as you round the corner, out of sight, the image of his expression lingers. there’s no relief this time. only guilt.

────

you don’t know why you’re here. no, that’s a lie—you know exactly why you’re here. the memory of his expression, the slight drop of his shoulders at your retort, has been looping in your mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

your feet carry you down the familiar path to his dorm, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step. before you can talk yourself out of it, your fist is already knocking on the door.

it opens almost immediately, and the sight of him steals the breath from your lungs. his white hair is a mess, sticking up in chaotic directions, and his glasses are perched crookedly on his nose. there’s a faint crease on his cheek, like he’d been leaning against a book, and his shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, rumpled from sleep or hours spent working. he looks… soft. disarming. almost painfully cute.

“coffee,” you say, holding up the cups like a white flag. “can i come in?”

his lips twitch, a hint of a smile breaking through the haze of surprise as he steps aside. “bribery, huh? didn’t think you had it in you.”

his dorm is as cluttered as you remember—papers and notebooks sprawled across his desk, a blinking laptop shoved precariously to one side. you set the coffee down on the edge of the desk, your gaze catching on the scrawled notes and dense blocks of text.

“grading?” you ask.

“research,” he replies, dropping onto the edge of his bed with a tired sigh. his hand rakes through his already-messy hair, making it stick up even more. “finals prep. you know, glamorous TA things.”

you hand him a cup, your fingers brushing against his as he takes it. the simple contact sends a jolt up your arm that you stubbornly ignore. “thought you could use it.”

he hums as he takes a sip, his lashes fluttering briefly before he lets out a quiet sound of approval. the noise is so low, so soft, it makes your stomach twist. you glance away quickly, your grip tightening on your own cup.

“about the other day,” you start, the words quiet and tentative.

he glances up, the coffee still in his hands. his expression is unreadable, but his fingers still against the cup, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. “you don’t have to explain,” he says, setting his cup down on the desk. “if you don’t want this—if i got it wrong—just say so.”

“it’s not that,” you blurt, the words tumbling out too fast, too raw. warmth floods your cheeks, creeping down to your chest. “i just… i don’t know what this is.”

he doesn’t respond immediately, doesn’t fall into his usual teasing deflection. instead, he stands, crossing the small space between you with deliberate steps. his gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and it makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t control.

“let me show you,” he says softly, his voice low, uncharacteristically serious.

he’s so close now, his hand brushing against yours, his touch light, almost hesitant. and then his lips are on yours, and everything else fades away.

this kiss is nothing like the first. there’s no uncertainty, no restraint. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moves against yours, hot and insistent. your grip on the coffee slips, the cup hitting the floor with a dull thud as your hands find his shoulders, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

when his hands slide under your shirt, the roughness of his palms against your bare skin makes you shudder. he guides you backward, his body pressing into yours until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. you sink down, the weight of him grounding you as he follows, his lips trailing fire along your jaw and down your neck.

his hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your waist, brushing the underside of your ribs, exploring like he’s memorizing every inch of you. when he pulls back to look at you, his lips are curved in a wicked, breath-stealing grin.

“you’re infuriating,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as his eyes rake over you, drinking in every detail.

“you’re worse,” you manage, though your voice is barely more than a whisper.

his grin widens, and his laugh is warm against your skin as he dips his head, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “you’re already so worked up. it’s cute.”

“shut up,” you snap, though the way your hips arch into his touch betrays you.

“make me,” he challenges, his lips brushing against yours before descending lower, kissing down your collarbone and tugging your shirt higher with every inch. his hands roam greedily, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.

his mouth is back on you immediately, nipping and kissing along the swell of your breasts as his hands work the clasp of your bra. when it comes free, his lips part in a satisfied hum, his hands kneading your soft skin like he’s savoring every second of this.

“so fucking perfect,” he mutters, his voice husky as he leans back slightly to take in the sight of you. his gaze is heavy, filled with something dark and hungry that makes your stomach twist in the best way.

“stop staring,” you grumble, though the heat in your cheeks betrays the sharpness of your words.

“can’t help it,” he says, his grin tilting into something softer, more genuine. “you’re gorgeous.”

before you can respond, his mouth is back on you, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his other hand trails down your stomach, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants. your breath hitches as he pauses, his gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“can i?” he asks, his voice quieter now, his expression serious.

you nod, and he wastes no time. his fingers hook under the fabric, tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. the cool air against your bare skin makes you shiver, but the warmth of his hands is there immediately, coaxing you to relax under his touch.

“look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick as his hands part your thighs, his gaze drinking in every inch of you. “so fucking pretty.”

your cheeks flush, and you try to turn your head away, but his hand cups your chin, gently coaxing you to meet his eyes. “don’t hide from me,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “not tonight.”

his other hand slides between your thighs, his touch featherlight at first, teasing. when his thumb brushes over your clit, a jolt of heat shoots through you, and your hips buck involuntarily.

“sensitive,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “i barely touched you, and you’re already squirming.”

“shut up,” you snap, your voice shaky as your fingers clutch at the sheets beneath you. but the way your body reacts—arching into his touch, chasing the pressure—makes it clear that his teasing isn’t far from the truth.

“you don’t really want me to, do you?” his voice is low, almost a growl, and the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine. “i think you like when i talk to you like this. when i tell you how good you’re doing, how fucking beautiful you look right now.”

your chest heaves as his fingers dip lower, sliding through your slick folds with infuriating slowness. every movement feels deliberate, calculated, like he’s savoring every second. when his fingers finally slip inside you, the stretch makes your head fall back, a gasp tumbling from your lips.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers begin to move, slow and deliberate at first. “you feel so fucking good, baby. so perfect.”

your hands fly to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he curls his fingers, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. “oh my god—gojo—”

he tuts sharply, his fingers pausing inside you, his thumb stalling its maddening rhythm. your head snaps up, breathless and confused, to find him staring down at you with a dark look, his lips curving into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“no,” he says firmly, his voice low and commanding as he tilts his head. “say satoru.”

“w-what?” you stammer, your heart racing as his fingers remain perfectly still, the tension building with every passing second.

“not ‘gojo,’” he says again, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his grin sharpening. “say satoru.”

you hesitate, your breath hitching as your body trembles beneath him. he presses his fingers deeper, curling them just enough to make your toes curl, and your resolve shatters.

“satoru,” you gasp, your voice breaking on the syllables.

his smirk widens, something dark and triumphant flickering in his eyes. “good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb resuming its slow, torturous circles on your clit as his fingers pick up their rhythm again, harder this time, deeper.

your head falls back against the mattress, your body arching into his touch as the pleasure builds again, higher and hotter than before. his name tumbles from your lips like a mantra, breathless and needy as he drives you closer to the edge.

“that’s it,” he coaxes, his voice dripping with praise as his free hand slides down your body, his touch possessive. “just like that, baby. let go for me.”

the coil in your stomach tightens to the breaking point, and when he curls his fingers just right, pressing against the perfect spot, it snaps. your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and overwhelming, and his name spills from your lips in a broken moan.

“satoru—fuck—”

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough with approval as he works you through the waves of pleasure, his movements slowing but never stopping until your body goes slack beneath him, trembling and spent.

he pulls his hand away slowly, his gaze fixed on you as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a deliberate, satisfied hum. “even better than i imagined,” he says, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes gleaming as they roam over your flushed, trembling body.

you blink, your breath still uneven as his words settle over you. “wait—” you say, your voice catching slightly. “you’ve thought about this?”

his grin widens, slow and deliberate, and he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so his face is just inches from yours. “oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “you really think i haven’t?”

your cheeks flush even hotter, your pulse racing as his words sink in. “you’re—” you stammer, at a rare loss for words. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculous?” he repeats, feigning offense, though the wicked glint in his eyes never falters. “i’d say i’m a man of focus. you’ve been in my head for weeks, driving me insane with that sharp mouth and the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.”

“i don’t—” you begin, but his lips curve into a knowing smirk, cutting you off.

“you do,” he insists, his tone softening just slightly. “and every time you glared at me, every time you rolled your eyes or bit back some little retort, all i could think about was how much i wanted to shut you up. like this.”

his lips capture yours again, and this kiss is slower, heavier, laced with an intensity that makes your toes curl. his hands roam, sliding over your bare skin with a reverence that feels almost out of place against his words.

when he finally pulls back, his gaze is still on you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “and now that i’ve got you,” he says, his voice dipping into something darker, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough.”

the weight of his confession leaves you breathless, and before you can respond, his lips are trailing down your body again, his hands parting your thighs as he settles between them.

“what are you—” you start, but his eyes flick up to meet yours, and the look in them steals the rest of your words.

“relax,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a soft, almost mischievous smile. “i’m not done tasting you yet.”

his hands slide to grip your thighs, pulling you apart with ease as his lips descend, brushing over your inner thighs, teasingly slow. his tongue flicks out, hot and wet against your skin, and when his mouth finally finds you again, you feel your body arch instinctively, your breath leaving in a sharp, unrestrained gasp.

he’s relentless. his tongue drags up your folds in a languid stroke before circling your clit with maddening precision. his mouth is hot, the slick, wet sounds mingling with your soft moans, and his breath—warm and uneven—fans against your skin with every movement.

his hair brushes against your thighs, soft and messy, and your fingers thread through it again, tugging sharply enough to make him groan against you. the vibration of it sends a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, and your hips buck against his mouth.

“satoru,” you gasp, but it’s barely coherent, your voice breaking as he latches onto your clit, sucking just enough to make your toes curl. “oh my—”

the cold press of something against your inner thigh pulls you out of the haze, just barely. it’s sharp, unfamiliar, and you glance down—his glasses. they’re still perched on his nose, slightly crooked, the metal frame fogging faintly from the heat of his breath. he’s so lost in the moment, so focused on the way his tongue works against you, that he hasn’t even noticed.

your hand drifts down, brushing against the cool frame, and you slip them off without a word. the absurdity of it—the way he’s been eating you out with his glasses still on—makes you want to laugh. the corners of your mouth twitch, and a soft sound bubbles up in your throat, but then his tongue presses flat against your folds, dragging up in one slow, deliberate motion, and the laugh dissolves into a sharp moan.

your head falls back against the pillow, your hand tangling back in his hair as you toss the glasses onto the bed with the other. the noise they make as they hit the mattress is faint, drowned out by the obscene wet sounds of his mouth, the low hums of satisfaction he lets out as he devours you.

“fuck,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as his tongue flicks against your clit again, faster now, more insistent. your body arches instinctively, chasing the pressure, and his hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth.

he growls against you, the sound low and rough, vibrating through you in a way that makes your toes curl. his tongue dips lower, teasing your entrance before sliding back up, and the sharp scrape of his teeth against your swollen clit has you seeing stars.

“so fucking sweet,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your slick skin. “can’t get enough of you, baby.”

you can’t respond, can’t think. the only thing you can focus on is the way his tongue works against you, precise and relentless, building the heat in your stomach until it’s unbearable. your fingers twist in his hair, pulling harder, and the groan he lets out in response sends you spiraling.

“satoru—” his name falls from your lips like a prayer, breathless and broken. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his mouth dragging you closer and closer to the edge until you can’t hold on any longer.

your orgasm hits you hard, ripping through you in waves that leave your entire body trembling. your hips jerk against his hold, your moans loud and unrestrained as you ride it out. his tongue slows, working you through every aftershock until you’re left panting, boneless against the bed.

when he finally pulls back, his chest is heaving, his lips and chin glistening with your slick. his hair is a mess, strands sticking up where your fingers had tugged, and his eyes—those impossibly bright blues—flick up to meet yours, gleaming with satisfaction.

“twice,” he says, his voice low and teasing as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

he sits back on his knees, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he takes in the sight of you—flushed, panting, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. his grin is lazy, self-satisfied, like he knows exactly what he’s done to you.

“you’re staring,” you mutter weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“hard not to,” he replies, his tone low and full of amusement. his fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, his touch soft, teasing. “you look so fucking good when you come.”

your cheeks burn, and you want to glare at him, to tell him to shut up, but the words catch in your throat as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. in one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the side, the movement effortless and maddeningly confident.

your eyes follow the shift of his muscles, the way they ripple under his skin, lean and defined. a faint sheen of sweat glistens across his chest, catching the dim light, highlighting every sharp line and curve. your gaze drifts lower, down to the sharp ridges of his abdomen. the faint trail of white hair starting just below his navel draws your attention, leading your eyes further, until his hands move to the waistband of his boxers.

he doesn’t rush. he hooks his thumbs under the fabric, dragging it down slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation coil tighter in your stomach. as the fabric falls away, your breath hitches.

he’s fully bare now, and your mouth goes dry.

his cock is… breathtaking. thick and flushed a deep pink at the tip, already leaking beads of precum that catch the light as they drip down the length. it’s long, the kind of length that makes your thighs press together instinctively, wondering how he’ll fit, but the heat pooling low in your stomach burns hotter, overriding any hesitation.

his hand wraps around it, and he strokes himself slowly, his thumb swiping over the head to collect the wetness there. the motion is deliberate, almost lazy, and the soft groan he lets out sends a shiver down your spine.

you’re staring—you know you are—and he notices, his lips curving into a wicked grin as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as he leans forward, the head of his cock brushing against your folds, slick and hot. “i’ll make it fit.”

his words send a shiver through you, his voice low and dripping with confidence. the weight of his cock against your folds, hot and heavy, is enough to make your hips twitch instinctively, chasing the friction. but he doesn’t push in right away—of course he doesn’t. instead, he drags the head up and down your slick, letting it catch on your clit with every pass, teasing you until you’re squirming beneath him.

“satoru,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. you’re not above begging at this point. “please.”

his grin widens, his head dipping to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “what’s the rush, baby? we’ve got all night.”

“satoru,” you repeat, more insistently this time, and he groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his cock twitching against you.

“fuck,” he mutters, his voice tight now, losing some of that smug edge. “you sound so pretty when you beg.”

he lines himself up, his hand still wrapped around the base as he presses the head against your entrance. the stretch is immediate, a sharp, overwhelming mix of pleasure and pressure as he pushes in slowly, inch by inch.

“holy shit,” he breathes, his voice rough as his head falls forward, his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’re so fucking tight.”

your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your breath catching as he sinks deeper, the fullness stealing every coherent thought from your mind. he pauses halfway, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his.

“you okay?” he asks, and there’s something softer in his voice now, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your voice shaky as you answer. “yeah. just—keep going.”

his jaw tightens, and he exhales slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he starts to move again. every inch feels impossibly deep, your walls stretching around him, and when he finally bottoms out, you both pause, your breaths mingling as you try to adjust.

“fuck,” he groans again, his voice strained as his hips twitch against yours. “you feel so good. better than i ever—” he cuts himself off with a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “shit, you’re perfect.”

you can barely respond, the stretch and fullness leaving you trembling. but then he starts to move, pulling out almost entirely before sliding back in with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips. the drag of his cock against your walls is enough to have you moaning, your head falling back against the pillow.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice rough and approving as he sets a steady rhythm. “good girl. taking me so well.”

your hands trail down his back, your nails scraping lightly against his skin, and the groan he lets out sends a fresh wave of heat through you. his movements quicken, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, and every thrust has him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, making you cry out.

“satoru—” his name falls from your lips again, and he leans down, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrusts harder, deeper.

“you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tighter, holding you in place as he drives into you. “you feel so good—so fucking perfect for me.”

the coil in your stomach tightens with every roll of his hips, the pressure building higher and higher until it’s unbearable. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles that make your vision blur, and your moans grow louder, more desperate.

“come for me,” he demands, his voice rough and low in your ear. “let me feel you.”

the command sends you over the edge. your orgasm rips through you, your body arching into his as you cry out, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. your walls clench around him, and the sensation makes him groan, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

“fuck—” he gasps, burying himself as deep as he can go as he comes, the heat of him spilling into you, thick and warm. his head falls to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure.

the room is quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick and charged as he finally pulls back, his weight pressing into you as he collapses onto the bed beside you. his arm slides around your waist, pulling you against his chest as he presses a soft, lazy kiss to your temple.

“told you i’d make it fit,” he murmurs, his voice still rough, but there’s a hint of smugness there, his lips curving into a small grin.

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, your body still trembling against his. “you’re such an asshole.”

“yeah,” he agrees, his tone light, teasing, as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “but you like it.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no heat to it, your lips curving into a faint smile as you bury your face against his chest. “shut up, satoru.”

“never,” he replies, and the warmth of his laughter vibrates through you, grounding you as your breaths slowly even out.

an. gojo with glasses... *hnnggghh*

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

2K notes · View notes

thejujvtsupost · 13 days ago

Text

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Poll for a possible part 2 -> Taglist signup for part 2

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

Click here to be added to the taglist for part 2

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

#caleb x reader #lads caleb x you #caleb x mc #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb smut #caleb fluff #lads x reader #lnds caleb #lads mc #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic

943 notes · View notes

hyunebunx · 6 months ago

Text

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ skz and the reason you aren't together !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: angst

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: i loveee me some angst so i hope you'll enjoy! <3 seungmin's part is slightly longer because i wrote it for my beloved keisy @starlostseungmin <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - he chose work over pursuing his feelings for you.

He knows how you feel about him, and you know how he feels about you. Things couldn’t be simpler.

But in reality, things were more complicated than ever. Yes, Chan did in fact confess, but with the same breath he also told you this could never go any further.

You were devastated, confused and sad, not understanding what was going on through that bright mind of his.

You liked each other, you both wanted this – so, what was the issue?

It wasn’t you, it could never be. It was him, as always.

He was too busy, his job too demanding to leave any room for you and the precious feelings you’ve developed for him.

Chan felt like he didn’t deserve your love, because he could never be there for you in the way you needed a boyfriend to be.

He could never be there every morning when you woke up, kiss you goodbye each time you left the house or greet you with a big hug when you returned. He just couldn’t, too caught up in work to even notice the hours tick by.

You didn’t deserve an absent lover, one that could not put you first.

No matter how much he cared, how much his whole being longed for you, his job would always be his main priority. Then, his seven brothers. While you, would end up being third on his list.

It pained him to admit it, and even more so admit it to you but since he respected you so much, you deserved nothing but the truth.

This information crushed you, every word that left his mouth a stone that contributed to the mountain you were quickly getting buried under.

“But I love you.”

He shook his head, brown curls getting into glossy eyes. “I love you too, but we – I, can’t.”

At the end, just as you were preparing to depart his studio, he stood up. Without thinking, you hugged tightly, aware this would be the last time before things would change forever.

“Please don’t be sad because of me.”

How could you not? How did he expect you to not mourn the beautiful relationship you could have had, if only he wasn’t so against it?

If only he would have chosen you.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - because he broke up with you.

Yeah, pro idol Minho ended your relationship on a random Thursday night, taking everyone but most importantly you, by complete surprise.

“Let’s break up.”

You can’t believe your ears, especially since you’re in his house, eating the food he just prepared for the both of you, in his kitchen while wearing one of his shirts.

Nothing was amiss, nothing even prompted it. Things have been going great in your relationship – there was no recent argument or disagreement that could explain his sudden decision.

Blames it on his work and his hectic schedule, trying to appear as detached and unaffected as he possibly could. But you know better; you see it all.

The way his fist clenches over the dish rag, how his eyes won’t meet yours even for a split second. This isn’t something he wants to do, not in the slightest. Yet, here he is, breaking both of your hearts for a reason he doesn’t even bother revealing.

It stings in the worst way possible, even more so when you stand up to hug him and he just puts a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Tears well up in your eyes and that’s when he looks away, slumping against the counter as a sniff reaches his ears. He’s gripping the wood with such force you’re afraid it might actually snap.

“Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”

But Minho doesn’t respond, not even as you start crying and begging him to talk to you, to tear down the wall he suddenly plopped right between you two in your relationship.

He’s so close, mere inches away, but his heart that belonged to you, that always responded to yours, is suddenly grabbed harshly out of your hands and shipped away to an unknown destination.

“Minho.” You sniff, not hiding your tears or the pain that’s slowly ripping your heart to pieces and letting them fall all the way down to your stomach, trying to escape from the torture. Because even the idea of not having him in your life was pure torture.

“I think you should go.”

He walks past you, head hung low as he throws the dish rag on the table without saying anything else, putting an end to the conversation. An end to your relationship. Throwing it all away like the time spent together meant absolutely nothing to him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever let see you the way he broke down as you slammed the front door shut, walking out of his life for good. Even if you didn’t agree, it was better this way.

Your life was better, and happier, without him in it. That’s what he kept murmuring to himself as he slid to the ground, against his bedroom door, crying while clutching his chest, afraid his heart might stop beating.

It was all for the better.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - is already in a relationship.

The most stupid thing you can ever do in this lifetime is fall in love with someone who’s already in love with another.

Not only is he in love, he’s also in relationship that’s been going on for three beautiful years.

The thing is, you haven’t always had feelings for Changbin.

It was weird, really. For the longest time now, he was just your bubbly co-worker who laughed so loud the whole department could hear him. The mood maker of the company.

It happened on the annual Christmas party, where you drunk a little too much as you were nursing a broken heart after your ex dumped you out of the blue.

The whole world was spinning but you were happy – happier than you’ve been in months.

Noticing you could barely stand, Changbin ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

You complained and complained but after some more convincing from him, Changbin managed to coax you onto the passenger seat of his sports car.

You were silent the whole ride but as he parked on your driveway, he gasped, worriedly grasping your hands and exclaiming about the tears on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

But that’s when the dam broke and it all came to the surface, tears flowing freely down your face and neck as you sobbed, telling Changbin everything from beginning to end.

And he listened, holding your hands and nodding when appropriate, offering you the occasional sip of water or a tissue to wipe your face, not interrupting once.

His heart broke for you, unaware his mere presence was already working on mending yours.

The next morning, you almost didn’t show up to work as you remembered everything, how you made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone but especially Changbin. But something pushed you to do so.

As you arrived, a care basket was on your desk, accompanied by a little note with a crooked smiley face and then, he appeared, doing the exact same expression.

And you laughed, wholeheartedly. And you continued to do so as you began taking your lunch breaks together, working side by side and even taking turns on driving the other home.

Falling for him was inevitable, but you didn’t mind, all warm and fuzzy on the inside as the heart your ex broke was anew.

That is, until you met her. You and Changbin became so close that he couldn’t help but want to introduce you to his other half, the woman who loved him unconditionally that knew a little too much about you.

And just like that, your heart shattered once again, the pieces so tiny they were easily blown away in the wind, leaving behind a big whole were all of your love once resided. How could you be so stupid to believe someone could ever love you again?

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - you found out he was in love with someone else.

Plain and simple, as heartbreaking as it sounds.

Let me paint this picture: you two are best friends, each other’s safe places. You always talk about everything and anything with one another, feeling comfortable to share even your darkest secrets.

Because of that, you genuinely thought he might even reciprocate your feelings at some point.

But one day, as you’re both hanging out at your house, watching a movie, all of the hope and daydreams you held in your heart for a happy ending with him just get crushed.

He suddenly dumps this new information on you while he’s casually munching on some popcorn, watching the couple on the screen confess their love for each other like your heart didn’t just stop beating.

You’re so taken aback that you stop breathing for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes.

For some strange reason, Hyunjin doesn’t meet your gaze even as it goes silent between you two and your eyes keep burning holes into the side of his head.

Only when you finally tear your gaze away, eyes glossy as you try to murmur encouraging words does he finally turn to you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight but other than that, he doesn’t comment on it.

The whole ordeal feels like a slap in the face, hurting more than any physical injury you’ve ever sustained but, it’s not like you could blame anyone but yourself for it. You’ve missed your chance and now, Hyunjin was going to be in a happy relationship with someone else.

So, as expected from any best friend put in that situation, you say through gritted teeth.

“You should confess.”

Hyunjin searches your face for any sign of discomfort and finds many – but, as expected, doesn’t say anything, just looks away and nods slowly. Like he just can’t maintain eye contact for more than five seconds at a time.

And that’s the end of it. The whole vibe changes, now uncomfortable and cold and it’s clear that neither of you is paying any attention to the movie anymore.

But he still remains till the end, and when the credits start rolling, you stand up first and bid him goodnight without your usual warm smile or departing embrace before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as your door slams shut, the tears in your eyes bringing him unexplainable sorrow.

And as he leaves your apartment that night, down in the dumps, you know things between you have changed forever.

Because that’s the last time you and Hyunjin talk.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - he hasn’t confessed yet.

Jisung has liked you for a while now but for some reason, every time he wanted to take that leap of faith and finally confess, something always came up.

You were interrupted, plans had to be cancelled or you were simply too busy to even talk to each other.

It was driving him insane, especially when he’d spot you at an event surrounded by people he felt he couldn’t push through, missing his chance at your attention every time.

He felt forced to watch you from the sidelines, a background character in your life that would never get his moment to shine.

You were friends, but he often felt he cared about you more than you cared about him and it was tearing him apart.

Each time you smiled or laughed at one of his jokes, everything around him disappeared as time seemed to come to a stop, making you look even more beautiful. Which was a hard thing to do since you were already perfect in his eyes.

His insecurities and crippling fear of rejection were literally ruining his life, preventing him from experiencing the love story he’s been yearning for.

Jisung was good at hiding his feelings from you, but sometimes, he slipped up.

Like that time, he held your waist for a little too long, or guided your hands over the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those moments when he wasn’t overly conscious, when he got lost in the moment, were your favorite.

You see, in his mission to prevent you from discovering how insanely in love he was with you, Jisung managed to make you believe the opposite. That he hated you. Okay, maybe not hate, just strongly dislike.

Always avoiding being left alone with you, barely meeting your eyes or pulling away when you got a little too close. He seemed repulsed, and it hurt you.

Where you really that unpleasant in his eyes?

He was nice and bubbly around everyone else, no matter the gender. Why couldn’t he be the same Jisung whose smile made your heart skip several beats around you, too?

This went on for a long while, which solidified the idea he hated you in your head, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

One day, Jisung almost walked in on you and Felix…hugging on the practice room floor? His heart dropped, brows furrowing in confusion. Felix knew how he felt about you, he would never disregard that, right?

Everything clicked when he heard your muffled sobs and pained voice.

“I give up, Felix.” You said, hiding your face in his chest as a loud sob escaped you. “Jisung hates me, it’s official! I tried so, so hard but it was no use.” Felix murmured something back, deep voice uncharacteristically soft as he comforted you, caressing your back.

Jisung couldn’t hear what he said though, eyes filling with tears as the only thing resonating in his ears was the pounding of his own heart. You thought…he hated you?

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - because your relationship is too…complicated at the moment.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe your relationship with the ray of sunshine.

He was your ex that somehow slithered his way back into your life again, only this time, as a friend. Not even, just an acquaintance that knew too many of your secrets and biggest aspirations.

There was no denying the feelings you still harbored for him, the flame flickering in your heart each time he was around; each time he spoke, he smiled, he laughed or even as much as looked at you, your heart thumped so loudly in your chest you were afraid he was able to hear it.

It was embarrassing, especially since he didn’t seem as affected.

Your relationship ended on a sour note – arguing, screaming, crying, the whole package.

Yet a few months later, when you happened to be at the same party, Felix accompanied by a friend walked up to you like nothing even happened, greeting you brightly.

It was horrible, and you almost cried right there and then, missing the way his doe eyes took in all of the little details that changed about you ever since you broke up, desperately committing them to memory.

Like he never wanted to forget, because he didn’t. Felix never wanted to forget about you, even if you didn’t love him anymore.

And so, this happened a few more times until the inevitable took place.

You kissed. And never spoke about it.

And then you kissed again, and again, until he was coming over to your house in the middle of the night to do more than kiss.

It messed with your head, the way he was looking at you – like you hung the stars on the night sky for him and him alone. Like he loved you and wasn’t breaking your heart each time those plush lips kissed every inch of your skin, worshipping every part of your body.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’d whisper one night, resting your head on his naked chest as the moon bare witness to your unspoken feelings.

“You keep calling.”

“And when I’ll stop,” you move to look at him, face mere inches away from his, hands supporting your weight on his chest, “will you still come?”

He hesitates, staring straight into your eyes. “Most likely, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Yeah…complicated.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - because he is your best friend.

For most, the transition from best friends to lovers was as natural as breathing, something inevitable that was bound to happen one way or the other. Not for Seungmin.

He didn’t even allow his mind to go down that road, to think about being more than friends with you, one of the people he held the closest to his heart.

Not because he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but because he was afraid.

Yes, he was afraid that once that line was crossed, the one that kept you firmly in place in the beautiful friendship that only blossomed and became very special over the years, it would all disappear.

Things would change and shift, which would bring forth your downfall.

In his eyes, the risk of fighting and breaking up was too big for him to even consider taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose you, never.

But what he failed to take into account was that you would not stay single forever.

That’s why, the moment you skipped over to him and squealed about having a date, his heart almost stopped beating.

His world was spinning, like an earthquake started in his head which was quickly crumbling down every single wall and boundary, and rational decision he ever made over the years.

“You…have a date?” He gulped, ignoring the alarms going off in his head that were deafening him. “With who?”

“This guy from work.” You shrugged, excitement dimming as your gaze met his, serious. “He isn’t the one I like, but I guess it will have to do for now.”

Seungmin wasn’t stupid but his heart understood your allusion before his mind did, thumping loudly and stealing his breath away.

You were talking about him. You were going out with another guy but were thinking about him – he was the one you liked!

Still, he didn’t vocalize a response, choosing to nod and pat you on the back gently, staring at anything else other than the disappointment that overwhelmed your whole frame, making you appear oh so small.

The day of your date arrived sooner than he’d like, and Seungmin was miserable, especially since you texted him the location ‘just in case’.

Usually, he was more than happy to know where you were, safe and sound, but this time he would have preferred you didn’t let him know you were with another guy at the restaurant you frequented together.

Hours passed, and night was making its presence known, but still no sign from you. Was he worried? No. Because for once, you staying out meant the date was a success and you were having the time of your life with this guy that wasn’t him.

That’s until, a mere half an hour later, loud knocking had him off the couch in a second, opening the door to find you frowning, and with tears in your eyes. Opening his mouth to speak, shocked, thinking something had happened on the date, your finger hitting his chest stopped him.

“Why didn’t you come?” You sniffed. “I thought going out with someone else would finally prompt you to admit that what we have is more than a simple friendship! Do you hate me that much?”

He was speechless, grabbing you by the elbows as you barged in, tears streaming down your face.

“Answer me, Kim Seungmin!” Well, he was fucked.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - isn’t sure what he feels for you yet.

Or better yet, his commitment issues prevented him from admitting to any feelings he might have.

See, you weren’t just friends. You were a little more than that, spending most of your free time together going to cute cafes and what would be considered dates, acting all lovey dovey.

That is, when you weren’t spending the weekend bound to his bed. That wasn’t fair, sometimes he was the one tied up. A very mutual arrangement.

Jeongin managed to drag you into a situationship you were now too deep into to break off, having developed actual feelings.

But each time you tried to speak to him about said feelings, he’d close off quicker than a frightened snail, impossible to reach.

After each one of these occasions, he wouldn’t contact you for days on end, sometimes even weeks, leaving you wondering if he’d ever come back.

He always did, he couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he tried.

Even if he messed with other people in that time, he’d still make his way back to you, smiling like nothing even happened and ready to give you all of his attention and affection again.

It was exhausting, and very, very painful.

But you still welcomed him back with open arms, too happy to see him to even care that each time he appeared in your life again, you were not the same.

Every time he disappeared and you didn’t say anything, a piece of your heart was ripped off harshly, stomped on and then thrown in the trash, devoid of any color or life. Like an old toy, forgotten in favor of a new, shiny one.

But Jeongin didn’t care. It’s not like he could be bothered to pick up your scattered pieces – they didn’t interest him, you did.

Not like he ever noticed the light in your eyes dimming each time he stormed back into your life after pretending you didn’t exist for weeks.

To be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be together.

Not now, or in the future.

No matter how much you hated to admit it, the facts were neatly laid out before you – Jeonging didn’t care about you at all, no matter how sweet, loving or good you were to him.

He thought you couldn’t notice, that your love for him was too blinding for you to see anything else other than him.

But you did. And he also did when one day, for the first time since he met you, as he stumbled out of a bar, giddy and tipsy with his phone to his ear ready to hear your sweet voice, his call didn’t go through.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

2K notes · View notes

calcifiedunderland · 2 months ago

Text

The Prefect’s Kiss~

—When a Night Raven College’s housewarden falls under the Sleeping Curse, only one person can wake them up.

Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim al-Asim x gn! Reader

Leona, Vil, Idia, Malleus ver.

“Oh! How terrible! Oh woe is me! How could this happen?!”

Crowley wailed at the news, sobbing fake tears beneath his mask. “What will I tell the parents?! The press?! How will I be able to afford vacation- I MEAN funding for my wonderful students?!”

Crewel rolled his eyes. He’d actually feel sorry for the Headmage if he was actually crying tears. The tissue clutched in Crowley’s fist was still dry.

Trein sighed, “this is the antidote recipe for Sleeping Death. Although, the materials are extremely hard to come by.” Crewel scanned the paper, noting the ingredients. “The recipe is possible, although they are quite expensive.” Crowley cringed, “how much will it be?” He screeched at the amount Trein said.

Meanwhile, Crewel muttered to himself. “The only other option is possibly true love’s kiss.” He looked up, “well, I’ll get the ingredients first thing in the-“ He stopped. Where Crowley was standing, was now a few black feathers fluttering down to the carpet. Crewel’s face fell, “oh no…”

In Ramshackle dorm, the Headmage chuckled nervously, sweating. You stared in disbelief, “I… honestly can’t believe that happened?” You were beyond shocked to hear that a Housewarden of all students had been knocked out with Sleeping Death. Crowley nodded wisely, “And I have decided to generously ask you to do the honors!”

“Huh?!” You stared incredulously at the Headmage as he ushered you out the door. He looked cheerful, “ah, aren’t I so gracious? I’m reuniting you with your true love!” You stared at him, jaw dropped, “HUH?!”

Riddle Rosehearts

♥️ The Headmage’s speech about True Love’s Kiss echoed in your head. You’d admitted to your friends that you had just a tiny, itty-bitty crush on your beloved Teapot-Tyrant. You didn’t know if he’d ever like you back, even though Ace swore up and down that Riddle gave you special treatment when you, Ace, and Deuce got into trouble (aka gently scolding you while they got collared and yelled at)

♥️ You didn’t want to give yourself false hope, even though you got butterflies every time Riddle personally waited on you during Unbirthday Parties and offered to tutor you when you didn’t understand something. If only you didn’t look away every time you got flustered, then you see the sweet blush on Riddle’s face and the gentle look he’d give you when you were together.

♥️ Now, you stared at the boy in front of you. Your beloved hothead-redhead looked too peaceful to be under a sleeping curse. You deadpanned at Ace and Deuce. “Explain.”

♥️ Apparently, while the two of them were messing around in the botanical gardens, they dropped some draught into Trey’s strawberry plants. And Trey baked the strawberries into a tart for Riddle. It was just your luck that your two beloved idiots had Sleeping Death as their potion.

You rubbed your temples. Deuce held his head in his hands. “The Housewarden will be so furious,” Ace said in a daze. Cater nodded solemnly, tucking his phone away, “your heads’ll be off quicker than you can say Magicam.”

“And they’ll be permanently off if you don’t leave them now.” Trey’s aura made them bustle out of the room, and Cater flashed you a little kissy face before leaving after Trey. You turned back to Riddle, sitting next to him. You gently cupped his cheek, brushing his bangs away from his face.

Even though you wanted to do it so many times before, thought of kissing him made you nervous. Especially when he could never wake up. Still, you leaned forward.

“Please wake up Riddle, I’ll miss you too much” you begged, before gently pressing your lips against his. You lingered there for a few seconds, before gasping and pulling away when you felt him move. Riddle’s eyes were wide open and staring at you, his face growing red. “P-prefect?! What is the meaning of this?!”

You threw your arms around Riddle, who dazedly hugged you back. Ace and Deuce fell through the door, and Cater and Trey rushed in. Deuce grabbed Ace and forced him down, bowing before Riddle, “we’re sorry, Housewarden! It won’t happen again!” Riddle looked at Trey and Cater in confusion, who explained “you were under the Sleeping Curse thanks to these two.”

You felt Riddle tense under you, and you pulled away. You cupped his cheek gently as he grit his teeth, “deal with them later, ok? Just rest,” you kissed his cheek and Riddle’s anger fizzled out as Ace and Deuce ran out of them room. Cater chuckled as he and Trey left, “we’ll leave you two lovebirds!” He sneakily snapped a photo, with you and Riddle wrapped in each others arms gazing at each other. He dm’ed you the photo, #truelove’skiss #finallythesetwoaretogether #getaroom

Azul Ashengrotto

💜 The Mostro Lounge was still running normally thanks to Jade. It seemed that only him and Floyd knew that Azul was under the Sleeping Curse. The entire dorm might revolt against working if they knew their Housewarden was cursed. The thought made you giggle, despite your growing nervousness of your crush being cursed.

💜 It was a long shot that Azul would like you. After all, more often than not you caused a lot of trouble for him. But still, you supposed you did get more discounts than the average student. And Azul did seem more keen on roping you into contracts, but somehow your end of the ‘deal’ wasn’t as harsh as others…

💜As Jade lead you into Azul’s bedroom, you asked what happened. Somehow, one of his edible mushrooms had been watered with Sleeping Death. They were making new dishes for the menu, and Azul accidentally ate it. You supposed they knew who spilled the potion into Jade’s precious mushrooms - you saw Ace and Deuce being worked to the bone in the kitchens.

💜“I’ll leave you two,” Jade looked worried when you first arrived, but somehow he looked amused as shut the door.

In the watery lighting of Azul’s room, the quietness felt loud as you remembered the Headmage’s words. You had to kiss him. He was your true love. You brushed Azul’s hair from his face, “are you?” You wondered out loud.

For a while, you tried to squash the growing feelings you had for him. But you couldn’t help but get flustered when he smiled so charmingly at you. And the way he’d offer you anything, anything Prefect please accept this, probably in a guilty attempt to ‘repay’ you. But deep down, you knew there was only one way you wanted him to repay you.

Despite yourself, you felt a lump in your throat as you watched Azul sleep. You grit your teeth. “You can put me in any contract you want. Whatever the price for this is, I-I’ll pay it,” you bit your lip, “just wake up, Azul.” And you pressed your lips to his before you could back down.

You couldn’t hear anything over your heartbeat loud in your ears, as you watched his chest move upwards while he breathed in deeply. His eyes snapped open, and immediately he focused on you, albeit blurry. Still, he could recognize you anywhere.

“Prefect?” Azul’s voice was raspy, and he frantically felt the nightstand for his glasses, “wh-what are you doing here?!” Your mouth flopped open but no sound came out. You stared at each other as Azul shoved his glasses on his face while scrambling to sit up. “A-AZUL!” You said too loudly, “you’re awake!” You both probably would’ve stayed there, staring, for the rest of the year when the door slammed open.

“Azuuuul~” Floyd ran in. “Guess ya finally woke up~ ” Jade sauntered in, and you could see relief in his face. “Yes,” Jade smirked at Azul, “it’s a good thing Prefect was here, isn’t it?”

Azul turned pink, and mercifully the twins seemed to think he’d had enough. They looked at each other with a grin, and excused themselves. You found yourself smiling shyly at Azul. “Are you feeling okay?” Azul seemed spaced out, but he snapped back to focus on you. He gulped.

��On account that you’re my… true love,” Azul took a deep breath, “perhaps you’d like to sign a contract now?”

Kalim al-Asim

🧡 The Headmage had barely said anything before Jamil slammed down your door and grabbed your wrist, hauling you straight to Scarabia. You’d never seen Jamil so stressed, ever. Crowley promptly abandoned you, wailing that he had to “go appease the parents.”

🧡 You could at least see why he was upset. The al-Asim’s were no regular family, after all. And neither was Kalim. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought. Bright, bubbly Kalim laying in bed under the Sleeping Curse. It didn’t matter how rich he was, how could someone do that to him?

🧡 Maybe it was because of how everyone at NRC was, but you’d come to appreciate Kalim. It wasn’t a stretch to say you enjoyed his company - whether it was him dragging you out on midnight carpet rides, or out to a party. His smile made the chaos bearable.

🧡 You never hid how happy he made you, especially so during his parties. Kalim always made sure to play your favorite songs, but you never noticed his smile widen when he saw you dance. You always looked so carefree, like a bird in flight. He always beamed when he got you to relax and have fun.

Jamil wasted no time dropping you off at Kalim’s room. “Just… please, I-” He swallowed thickly, before nodding at you. “I’ll leave you be.” He closed the door, and you slowly made your way to Kalim. He was laying among a dozen pillows, the with a few rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains. You sighed and sat next to him.

Scarabia felt downright somber without the sunniness of their Housewarden. Kalim’s usually smiling face was now devoid of any emotion. It bothered you more than you thought, to see Kalim with a neutral expression. You idly twisted a lock of his hair. The air felt thick without him to lighten the mood.

You didn’t want to think about never seeing Kalim again. Ever. “The dorm feels empty without you, Kalim,” you gently stroked his cheek, begging “you have to wake up to make it come back to life.” Softly you kissed him, closing your eyes tightly. You hovered there for a second, and pulled away with a gasp when you felt movement.

Kalim began stretching, still laying on the bed. “Mmh? Prefect?” he sat up with a small yawn, “What are you doing here?” He suddenly gasped, ruby eyes brightening. “Did we have a sleepover?! I totally forgot!”

You burst into laughter, feeling your eyes grow wet. You launched yourself at Kalim, both of you falling back onto the bed. Kalim hugged you back tightly, “Huh? What’s this about? Don’t cry, Prefect - I’m here!”

—————

I finally got some free time so here’s the fic three months late oops

Thanks for reading!!! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I hope you enjoyed 😄 the rest of the housewardens should be posted soon!

Take care shrimpies~ ✨ calci

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst riddle rosehearts #twst azul #twst kalim #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #dire crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #calcified writing

893 notes · View notes

lacydollette · 1 month ago

Text

HIS FAVORITE PERSON ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bsf!rafe x fem!reader

warnings: angst, rafe having a breakdown, mentions of a dead body, trauma, ward, comfort, slight fluff, kissing, cuddling, inspired by season 2 ep 2 of obx

Rafe’s room was a storm of chaos, just like his mind. His chest heaved as he sat on the floor, back pressed against his bed frame, fingers tugging at his hair like he could somehow yank the thoughts out of his head. His palms were clammy, his heart slamming against his ribs. The body, the ocean, his dad’s cold commands—the images were crushing him. He could still hear the splash, still feel the sick churn in his stomach as they drove away from the scene like nothing had happened. Like it was normal.

But it wasn’t.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slamming a fist into the floor. The pain grounded him for half a second before the panic resurfaced again, boiling over. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t be alone in this house with its suffocating walls and memories of what he’d just done. He couldn’t stay under one roof with Ward right now.

Without thinking, Rafe grabbed his car keys and stumbled out the door, the night swallowing him whole. The only place he could go was yours. You were the only one who could calm the chaos, the only one who made him feel like he wasn’t falling apart.

You were deep in your slumber when you were jolted awake by a loud knock at the door. Tired, you checked the time—2:37 a.m. You frowned, your sleep deprived brain struggling to process who would show up at this hour. Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled to the door, your favorite oversized t-shirt, one that you stole from Rafe, hanging loosely around your figure. And when you opened the front door, your confusion turned to worry. “Rafe?”

He stood there, his shoulders hunched, his hair a complete mess, and his blue eyes wild with something dark and unhinged. He was pacing on your porch, his breathing uneven, and his hands were shaking. “y/n,” he said, his voice strained, barely above a whisper. “Sorry for bugging you this late, I just—I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Rafe, what’s wrong?” You asked, stepping forward. He looked up at you, his expression haunted. “I did something. Something bad. Really bad.” Your heart sank, eyebrows furrowing, “You’re scaring me.” Rafe was always intense—impulsive, reckless—but this was different. He looked broken, like he was barely holding himself together. You reached out, grabbing his arm to steady him.

“Come inside,” you urged, but he shook his head violently. “No. I can’t—I can’t breathe in there. I can’t breathe anywhere.” His voice cracked, and he backed away, running a hand through his hair as he began muttering. “He’s insane, y/n. My dad is insane, and now I’m—I’m just like him. I helped him. I didn’t want to, but I did, and now—”

“Rafe, slow down,” you said firmly, not understanding a single thing before stepping in front of him. “You’re not making any sense. Just talk to me. What happened?” He stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto yours. “A body,” he said, his voice barely audible. “We got rid of a body.” Your blood ran cold. “What?”

He let out a hollow laugh, his hands trembling as he pressed them to his temples. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. I did it. I helped him dump it into the ocean like it was nothing. Like it was trash.” His voice grew louder, more frantic. “And now I can’t stop hearing it. I can’t stop seeing it. It’s everywhere.” You stood there, stunned, mind racing to catch up. Rafe was unraveling in front of you, and you had no idea how to help him. “Rafe—”

“I’m a monster,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m just like him. I didn’t even hesitate, y/n. What kind of person does that? What kind of person—”

“Rafe, stop!” You snapped, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you. His breathing hitched, his wild eyes meeting your comforting ones. “You are not a monster. You’re—” you faltered, unsure what to say. “You’re you. And whatever this is, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it.“ You nodded, saying it more to yourself than him.

Rafe shook his head, his voice breaking. “You don’t get it. You don’t know what I’ve done.” His whole body was trembling. “Then tell me,” you said, your voice softer now. “Tell me everything.” He stared at you, torn between fear and desperation. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you too.”

Your heart twisted painfully. You’d never seen Rafe like this, so vulnerable and raw. And yet, there was something else—a connection that had always been there, just right beneath the surface of your friendship. You’ve been best friends since forever, sure, but you weren’t just friends. Not with the way you looked at each other, the way you touched and held each other like it was normal.

Without thinking, you closed the gap between you two and kissed him. You’d kissed before—dozens of times, maybe more. It had always been casual, something you would do to calm each other down or just because it felt natural. It was soft and deliberate, a reminder that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere.

When you pulled back, Rafe’s breathing slowed, his hands coming up to rest on your waist like he was grounding himself in you. He leaned forward, stealing another kiss, then another, his lips brushing yours with a quiet desperation while tears fled the corner of his eyes. Trying to shut up the voices in his head, and you didn’t mind. You never did. That’s just how things between you were and neither of you had questioned it before.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.“You don’t need to thank me, Rafe.” you whispered back. “Now come inside.”

In your room, you pulled Rafe onto your bed, wrapping the blankets around the both of you as you settled in. He curled into you, his head resting against your chest, as you tried to give him as much comfort as possible, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back.

You held him close, your arms wrapped tightly around his body as his breathing finally began to even out. The storm of his panic had calmed, but his weight against you felt heavier than ever, like he was carrying something too big for either of you to handle. You didn’t know what to say—what could you say? His words kept ringing in your ears. A body. Dumped it in the ocean. You shivered, though the room wasn’t cold.

Rafe’s head was tucked under your chin, his breath warm against your collarbone. He was silent now, but his body still trembled faintly. You tightened your hold on him, resting your cheek against the top of his head. You’d always thought of yourself as his anchor, the person who could pull him back when he started spinning out. But tonight felt different. Tonight, it felt like you were trying to piece together an already broken vase.

Your fingers absentmindedly combed through his messy blonde hair. You’d been best friends since kindergarden, your lives so deeply intertwined it was hard to tell where one of you ended and the other began. But your friendship wasn’t normal, and you began to acknowledge that as time passed. Friends didn’t kiss to calm each other down. Friends didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms, your touches lingering in a way that always felt like it meant more.

You weren’t just friends, you thought, the truth settling heavily in your chest. But whatever you were, figuring it out had to wait. Rafe needed you now, more than ever, and you couldn’t let him down.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, the faint scent of saltwater and his cologne clinging to him. “You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, trying to convince both of you. You wanted to believe it, but the fear in his eyes earlier had shaken you to your core.

He didn't say anything, but his arms tightened around you, his head pressing harder against your chest. You didn't push him to speak. You just stayed there, holding him, trying to give him the comfort he so clearly needed. But the storm in his head wouldn't stop. He needed more—needed to feel you, to ground himself in you, to find something real in his world that suddenly felt like it was falling apart.

Without thinking, Rafe shifted, pulling you down to him. Before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours again, and for a moment, he could escape reality. At first, you thought it would be like the kisses you’d shared earlier—soft and grounding, something to pull him out of his head and bring him back to you.

So you started to respond instinctively, heart beating a little faster. But it wasn't enough for Rafe. The panic clawed at his chest, and his kiss grew desperate, frantic, as if he could pour everything he couldn't say into you. Rafe thought maybe this was what he needed. Maybe you were what he needed. Because it had always been you. The only person who saw him, who really knew him.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't deny what it did to you—the way your stomach flipped, the way your hands instinctively gripped his arms as his lips moved against yours. You couldn't ignore how your feelings for Rafe had grown into something far more complicated than friendship. But this wasn't right. Not now. Not when he was like this.

"Rafe," you murmured against his lips, hands coming up to his shoulders to gently push him back. He resisted for a moment, his desperation endless, but then he pulled away, his eyes wide and glassy as they searched yours.

"y/n," he whispered, his voice cracking. For a moment, Rafe just stared at you, your hesitation hitting him like a punch to the gut. You weren’t rejecting him, not really. He could see the worry in your eyes, the care. You were right, but it still shattered something inside him. This wasn't what he needed right now. And it wasn't what you deserved, either.

"You need to rest," you said softly, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "You're not doing fine right now, and that's okay. But this—it's not right like that."

He stared at you, his expression crumbling as the reality of your words sank in. He'd come here hoping to escape the weight of what he'd done, hoping that you could fix him the way you always had. But nothing could fix this. His chest heaved, and then, all at once, he broke.

A raw, heart-wrenching sob tore from his throat, and he dropped his head into his hands, his entire body shaking. Your heart ached at the sound of his sobs, and you reached for him immediately, pulling him into your arms again. He clung to you, burying his face in your shoulder as his cries wracked his body.

“I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice muffled and strained as his chest felt heavy. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have-"

"Stop," you interrupted gently, your hand threading through his dirty blond hair. "Don't apologize. You're allowed to feel, Rafe. I'm here." Rafe tried to believe you, tried to hold onto your words, but the guilt was suffocating. “I shouldn't drag you into this," he said, his voice breaking. "I shouldn't have put this on you.”

"Shh," you whispered, holding him tighter. "You just need to breathe, okay?” Rafe let out a shaky breath, his tears soaking into your shirt as his sobs began to calm.

You kept holding him, your heart breaking for the boy who had always seemed so untouchable, so invincible. You could feel all his shame, his guilt, his fear, and you wished you could take it away, even just for a little while.

Rafe shifted slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. “Don’t leave me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, stroking his back in slow, soothing motions. “I’m scared, y/n,” he admitted finally, sobbing into your chest, “Of what I’ve done. Of what I’ll become. That I’ll be like him.” You shook your head, “You’re not your dad,” you said firmly, your arms tightening around him.

He’s not like Ward. He can’t be. You didn’t care what Rafe had done or how messy his world had become. He wasn’t a monster. He couldn’t be—not the boy who used to sneak you ice cream when you were sad, who called you every time he was having a bad day because he trusted you more than anyone else in the world.

But as much as you wanted to save him, a small, nagging voice in the back of your mind whispered that this might be bigger than both of you, but pushed the thought away, pulling him closer. “We’ll figure this out,” you whispered. “Together.” Rafe didn’t respond, but his grip on you tightened slightly, his breathing slowing as he finally started to relax. He didn't deserve you—your loyalty, your care, your softness. But for now he let himself trust you.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing even as your body stayed still. You didn’t know what you were to each other, didn’t know what might happen after this night or what was up with Ward, and maybe you never would. But right now, Rafe was yours to protect, and that was the most important thing.

tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @rafesheaven @rafescokewhore @rafespreciosa @rafeysbunny @rafey-baby @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @nativegirltapes @cherrygirlfriend @moremaybank @littlelamy @rafesweetie @deansbeer

#works ₊˚⊹♡#writers on tumblr #bsf!rafe x reader #bsf!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff

675 notes · View notes

mermaidgirl30 · 7 months ago

Text

✨Teach Me a Lesson, Mr. Miller✨

Bfd/Brat Tamer! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: This has been in the docs for a while, and it’s all just filth. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me get that one sentence just right! This one is dedicated to all the bratty girls who love to be punished, especially @littlevenicebitch69 😈

Summary: Tonight, you planned for beer, loud music, and sloppy sex with one of your hot college classmates. Instead, you get your best friend’s dad putting you in your place.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.7k

Tags: Porn with plot, large age gap (reader is 23, Joel is 46), best friend’s dad! Joel, unprotected piv, brat tamer! Joel, fingering, oral (f/m receiving), no use y/n, pre outbreak! au, switching POVs, dirty talk, edging

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The lights flash like disco balls across the silhouette of the glass windows as Joel enters the front door of his house. His eyes blow wide, eyebrows furrowing when he sees the absolute mess in his large two-story house.

The wooden floors are caked in spilled beer, bottles litter the vicinity of his college infested living room. The loud music blares through the speakers, bodies cramming the now made dance floor with the leather couches pushed back out of place. Antique lamps get knocked over, footballs get thrown around by some jocks in the kitchen, chips get crunched and crumpled by careless feet over by the rustic coffee table.

He can’t see an end to the madness of this unwelcome house party that was obviously thrown without his knowledge, and he’s fucking pissed.

He scoffs as a tall blonde football player rams into his shoulder, not even muttering an apology, only yelling “Watch out, old man” as be barrels through with an open beer bottle clutched in his firm hand. That makes Joel burn with hot rage, his jaw ticking as he goes searching for Sarah in a sea of college party goers.

He was supposed to be away on a contracting gig all weekend, but he unexpectedly got to come home early after the clients changed the dates yet again. He was going to surprise Sarah by taking her out to dinner, but not anymore. Not after he walked into his house that’s now completely trashed by fucked up college kids.

He clamps down on his seething tongue and tastes blood run down the back of his throat, pushing himself through a couple making out by the kitchen entrance, cursing under his breath when almost no one even realizes he’s right there in the midst of it all. A rowdy boy shotguns a beer in the hall, all his friends hollering for him to chug. Joel grabs the aluminum can out of his hand and throws it on the ground, crushing it under his leather work boots while he scowls at the piece of shit.

“Get out of my fuckin’ way,” he growls, pushing the college kid out of the way and into the wall, stomping down the hall back into the living room when he doesn’t see Sarah anywhere around him.

He barrels past a sleazy couple making out by the stairwell, hearing them yell back while he huffs and pushes past them. Fucking college kids.

Turning and looking up the stairs is where he finds you standing there, nursing an alcoholic beverage from a red solo cup. He clenches his jaw, narrows his eyes as he stares at you, Sarah’s best friend, not even comprehending he’s right there basically at your heels.

He growls under his breath, hands balled in tight fists as the loud music booms through his eardrums, cursing when he sees another red solo cup fall to the floor, spilling liquid all over his newly polished floors.

Goddamn it.

He assesses you carefully, flicking his eyes over your too tight little black dress, barely covering the globes of your ass. Your low cut neckline basically reveals it all, cleavage spilling from where your perky breasts tease the boys. He takes in your tanned, toned legs, your slutty outfit making all the guys drool over you. And he knows that’s what you fucking want because you love attention.

If attention is what you’re seeking, then he’s about to smother it.

He scoffs under his breath; a jealous anger rises deep in his chest. He equally loves and hates how attractive he finds you. Your long legs could make any grown man weak in the knees, and your pouty red lips are so plump that they drive him absolutely wild. He so badly wants to suck that pretty little bottom lip between his teeth so he can finally hear what your pleasurable cries sound like while they ring melodically through his ears.

He should be mad, furious that you were a part of putting this party together. He knows you were; Sarah wouldn’t do this by herself. Not his little girl. No. She obviously had some convincing from you. He always knew you were a little troublemaker.

And you know what happens to little troublemakers? They get taught a lesson. And that’s exactly what he plans to do.

“Isn’t this party great? You and Sarah really pulled it off. Didn’t think you could. Bravo,” Kylie congratulates you, tipping her half empty beer bottle to your red solo cup, spilling a little of the mixed alcohol over the side of your cup.

“Yeah, well this wouldn’t have even happened if we thought her dad would show up. Kinda was hesitant to even help throw it, but guess it worked out,” you sigh with relief, a smile painting over your tinted red lips.

You relax against the wall, taking a deep breath while the drifting music fills your ears, lulling in the alcohol that calms your racing mind. “Good thing he’s not here, right? That’d be a shit show,” you laugh.

After a couple of minutes, Kylie hits your arm and almost screams into your ear. “Wait. Oh no. Isn’t that… is that Sarah’s dad?”

You stand up straight, pushing yourself off the wall frantically. As you look down the narrow staircase and gaze through the parted crowd, that’s when you see him staring up at you with a clenched jaw and fire lighted in narrowed eyes.

Oh shit.

You swallow a generous gulp of the bitter alcohol, biting the tip of your tongue hard as Kylie disappears and leaves you alone with the hungry panther that’ll surely show his claws to you any moment now. He stalks towards you, climbing the stairs and pushing past party goers, his big lips twitching and glowing eyes glaring your way.

Fuck. He’s so angry. You’re in big trouble.

He points a thick finger accusingly at you, mouthing your name angrily through his gritted teeth. When he reaches you your eyes blow wide, mouth dropping open, standing speechless in your black high heels. Your red solo cup slips out of your hand, and you gulp when the cup lands on Joel’s tan work boots, spilling alcohol all over the worn leather. Shit.

He rakes a hand roughly down his salt-and-pepper trimmed beard, muttering curse words under his breath. “Jesus Christ,” he huffs.

“Sorry…” you stutter, almost falling backwards before he places a strong hand around your wrist, holding your gaze with his narrowed eyes.

“So, you and Sarah decided it was alright to throw a fuckin’ party over the weekend I was supposed to be out of town, huh? Thought it was fine to trash my goddamn house?!” His voice is sharp, stern, filled with a deep gravelly tone that almost scares the daylights out of you. You’ve never seen Joel mad before, not like this. You’re in so much trouble.

“No… I mean, we didn’t mean to…” you mutter quietly.

“Didn’t mean to my ass. This was planned. Parties don’t jus’ happen. But let me ask you one thing, where is my daughter?” His amber eyes dig into you, a deep scowl forming over his lips while you try to hold your shaky breath.

You wouldn’t rat Sarah out, not to her dad. She was busy hooking up with Ryan by the pool, and you did not want her dad knowing that. He would probably take his meaty hands and physically kill the poor guy.

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a while,” you shrug, pretending like you don’t know a thing.

He slides his tongue along his bottom teeth, his cold eyes slitting into narrow slots. Oh god, you’re done for. “Upstairs, now!” he yells. He grabs your wrist and drags you upstairs, down the narrow hall, past the occupied bathroom and down to the last room on the right.

His bedroom.

He throws you inside the room and flips on the lights, slamming the door shut with a bang and clicking the lock into place. No place to escape now. Your wide eyes scan the room, glancing past the corner with his acoustic guitar, taking in the navy blue walls, the collection of stacked albums in the little glass case, eyes flicking over the king-sized bed with clean white sheets and a dark blue blanket thrown neatly on top.

You don’t have time to really take in your surroundings because he’s suddenly screaming at you through clenched teeth. “Where is Sarah?” he growls, pacing in front of you with blown out angry eyes, tanned arms crossed over his broad chest.

You push all your fears aside and decide to turn on the charm, hoping you can flirt your way out of this one. “I dunno, Joel. Where do you think she is?” you giggle, twirling a lock of hair between your fingers, giving him your best innocent look as you bat your eyelashes up at him, trying your hardest to not turn your best friend in.

Something snaps hard in him then. He crowds your space, pinning you against the navy colored wall, his meaty hands grazing against your hips roughly. “It’s Mr. Miller to you. Now look, I ain’t repeatin’ myself again. Now where is she?” He snarls, showing his incisors as his nostrils flare, making his chocolate eyes grow into big black holes. Oh god, he’s furious.

“Like I said, I don’t know.” You smile, shrugging your shoulders like you don’t have a clue in the world. He obviously knows you’re lying, and he won’t stand for that.

“I’m not fuckin’ playin’ around, little girl. Tell me where my daughter is or so help me.” He clenches his jaw, a repressed growl held in the back of his throat.

“Little girl, huh? You think a twenty-three-year-old is a little girl?” You scoff, pursing your lips annoyed.

“Shut up, will ya? Christ. Jus’ tell me where the fuck my daughter is,” he growls, pinning his broad chest against yours.

You smirk his way, challenging him with an ounce of liquid courage in your system. “Make me.”

He digs into the sides of your hips with his thick fingers, making you gasp at the nervous butterflies that flit through your stomach. He gnashes his teeth together, dark eyes blowing wide as he ghosts dangerously close to your lips. “Better be careful there, sweetheart. You’re walkin’ on mighty thin ice,” he warns with the flash of black eyes.

“Am I?” you challenge, giggling with a gleam in your eye. He curses under his breath, ready to give you just what you deserve. “I see the way you look at me when Sarah’s not around. The way your eyes peel over me, especially when I was wearing my little pink bikini by the pool. Couldn’t stop staring, could you?” you smirk.

He clenches his teeth together, groaning curse words as he scowls your way, fighting every ounce of control he has left in him, but he has none. “You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?” he spits your way, eyes lit like smoldering flames.

“Only a brat for you,” you wink.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thick fingers until he’s looking back up at you with danger written all over his handsome face. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Mhm,” you nod, grabbing onto the front of his green flannel, your fingers curling ever so slowly over the soft material. “So, what are you gonna do about it, Mr. Miller?” you ask all flirtatiously, pulling him up against your chest while his big hands hover over the soft fabric of your tight dress.

He carves his hand over the middle of your cleavage, running a calloused finger dangerously close to your breasts, anger still coursing through those dark eyes of his. “How much have you had to drink tonight? You’re actin’ rather bold, little girl.” His index finger grazes the underside of your breasts, and you hold in a surprised gasp.

“I’ve had a couple sips, but I’m not drunk,” you promise, watching his eyes flick back and forth from your vision to your spilling breasts that scream to be freed from the suffocating dress.

He assesses your face, scanning your flustered features while he ticks his jaw, analyzing if you’re really drunk or not. Once he’s satisfied with your answer, he lets out a gruff sound from the back of his throat. “Okay then. You’re not drunk, but you’re jus’ choosin’ not to tell me where Sarah is, and you’re givin’ me a damn headache with the way you’re actin’ like a little brat,” he snarls with gritted teeth. “What’s it gonna take to get you to answer me, brat?”

The nickname brat makes a wave of slick form in the gusset of your pretty lace and your insides quiver with need. You know exactly what you have to do now.

You take your nails and run them slowly through his greying scruff, watching him clench his jaw and growl through his teeth. He grabs your wrist and peels it off his face, pinning it high above your head while he takes a step forward and leans all his weight into you.

“Don’t think for one fuckin’ moment you have control, sweetheart. I’m in control here. Now, are you gonna tell me where my daughter is or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?” His eyes blow wide, black pupils taking over your vision as his hardening cock digs into the middle of your thigh. Oh fuck. He’s big.

You smirk up at him and raise your eyebrows. “Think I can tell you where she is. After you fuck me first, Mr. Miller.”

He snarls your way and grabs your wrists, pulling you from the wall and throwing you in the direction of his king-sized bed. Before you can even make a move, he's right behind you, spreading your legs and pushing your chest against the soft mattress, slowly hiking your dress above your hips.

“If you’re gonna act like a brat then I’m gonna fuck you like a brat, fuckin’ tease,” he growls.

You feel the cool air against your center before you can even comprehend what’s happening. He rips your lace panties in half, shredding the material and spreading you wider while he spits on his large hand and starts dividing your folds, calloused fingers gliding through the slick of your wet pussy. He pushes on your buzzing clit, already overstimulated by his meaty fingers pressing against you, and you can’t help but pull a low groan from your glossy lips.

“You like that, huh? Dirty little thing, jus’ wait till I get my mouth on you,” he smirks devilish.

“Oh, god,” you groan loudly as he curls one thick finger inside your dripping hole, quickly slipping another in to make a delicious burning sensation light your core on fire.

The room starts spinning as he languidly fucks his fingers in and out, making sharp, deep movements as they scissor inside you over and over again. It’s like he’s kissing the back of your cervix, reaching impossibly deep inside your soul, and his deft fingers are so fucking experienced that you think you see god himself when he curls at just the right spot and presses into the spongy spot that has you seeing twinkling stars before your wide eyes.

The heel of his palm presses firmly against your clit, and you can’t help the obscene noises that squeak out of you, just like the wet, squelching noises your pussy is making every single time he fucks into you nice and deep. The way he’s finger fucking you is unforgiving and relentless, and you can tell he’s thoroughly pissed that you kept taunting him. He’s trying to teach you a lesson, but it feels so fucking good that maybe you should tease him more often. Maybe he’ll keep being rough with you because you like this more than you should.

You buck your hips up, pressing your clit against his rough palm as you reach for that friction you so desperately crave. You’re right on the verge of coming, and you need to feed that burning sensation that almost snaps like a twig inside your core.

“Greedy fuckin’ brat, ain’t ya? Who said you could come already, huh?” he growls with bared teeth. He releases his drenched fingers from your core, and you feel complete loss when those damn thick fingers stop you from getting your sweet release.

You whine as he throws you on the silky sheets flat on your back, his large body climbing over yours while he pins his muscular legs against your thighs, spreading you wide to be on full display for him. You gasp and try to break free of his strong hold, but he’s much larger than you are, and his body is as taut as a brick wall. No way you can knock him off.

You lick your bottom lip in frustration and pout because your clit burns, and you need to get relief before you combust into uncontrollable flames. “Please, Mr. Miller,” you beg, tears pooling in the backs of your glossy eyes.

“You gonna tell me where Sarah is?” he asks, his large stature toppling over your body as his smoldering eyes incinerate the flames a thousand degrees hotter.

“Maybe after you make me come.” You puff your bottom lip out and smile through the burn of your core. He’s not going to budge, so you might as well push him to the edge.

“You think a little brat like you deserves to come?” he snarls, his eyes blowing wide as they trail like fire down your writhing body.

He spots your wet center and smirks, ghosting his fingers right over your bundle of nerves, exactly where you need him most. Your voice box dies as you watch his thick fingers skate across your middle region, and you grow mute as a blinding pleasure of need crashes through your bloodstream.

“I asked you a question, little brat. I expect an answer,” he growls with clenched teeth.

“Please,” is all you seem to be able to whisper out as the heel of his palm brushes against your over sensitive clit. “I… I need it,” you whine, feeling the bottomless pit your stomach seems to plummet into.

“You need it?” he chuckles darkly, dipping his head down between your legs slowly. “This pretty pink pussy wants to come?” he smirks as his lips brush dangerously close to your throbbing mound.

“Mhm,” you whine, panting excessively when his hot breath fans over your clit, sending your carnal need spiraling while his large hands push your thighs further into the slick white sheets.

He lets a string of saliva pool inside his mouth, and then he slowly lets it drip down like a waterfall onto your already drenched pussy. “Can never be too wet, little brat,” he grins wickedly. “But look at you, already soppin’ for me,” he chuckles darkly.

The tip of his thumb slides against your slit, covering drool and slick up to your puffy mound as he meticulously circles over that sweet spot that makes you pant his name uncontrollably. You buck your hips up, begging for more, but he just settles nicely between your legs and lets his eyes lust over with black pits that threaten to eat you alive.

“Mr. Miller,” you beg like a desperate bitch in heat. You need him, want him, and it’s so fucked up that you want your best friend’s dad. But he’s just so enticing that you can’t resist, like a prized possession you just can’t lose.

“Now, let me taste jus’ how wet you are, little brat. Maybe you’ll stop runnin’ that smart alec mouth of yours for a minute,” he smirks cruelly.

You take a breath, about to spout off a flirty response to mock him, but then his mouth fuses to your pussy, and there’s suddenly no air left in your lungs. He languidly licks a long stripe up your glistening folds, making a shocked gasp escape your mouth while he peels his carnal eyes up at you and fucking smirks while his tongue slowly envelops your buzzing mound.

Fuck. He’s even better with his tongue than you imagined.

“Ohhh,” you moan breathily, mouth agape with drool nearly sliding down your chin. His tongue makes your pussy clench up over nothing, but then he slips two experienced fingers inside your dripping hole and curls up up up until he hits that spot that makes you lose your fucking mind.

Another flick of his long tongue and you’re nearly choking on dry air. You try to speak, but his skillful fingers and lapping tongue make you forget every single thought that’s ever plagued your mind.

“Look at you, all choked up like you don’t know any words. What’s the matter, little brat? Cat got your tongue?” His menacing words cut through the thick air, and his piercing black eyes flash with mischief when his tongue slides along your puffy clit.

“Y—yes,” you choke, words getting jumbled on the tip of your tongue the minute he plunges his thick fingers deeper inside you. “Oh my god,” you moan, feeling his thick beard brush against your inner thigh, his tongue dancing impossibly fast around your bundle of nerves. “More,” you beg, “please.”

Joel’s tongue snaps back in his mouth, and one of his large hands tugs you closer, possessively pressing into your thigh like he fucking owns you. “Beggin’ for me now, s’that right?”

All you can do is nod in response. “Mhm.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, still skillfully curling his magical fingers up inside you, almost making your vision turn to black. “You gonna behave if I make you come, pretty little slut?” he asks with a snide smirk, fanning his hot breath along your sticky center, right where he’s ruined you most.

“Mhm. I’ll be good, promise,” you squeak out, bucking your hips to try to get his warm mouth back on you, but he only digs deeper into your thigh, right to the point of both pleasure and pain mixed together.

“Attagirl,” he smiles wickedly, his dark eyes turning back into big black pits.

In the next second his mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and teasing his tongue along your wet folds, his curved nose inhaling deeply in your curls above your mound, and then his mouth takes your needy clit and sucks. Hard. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, reveling in the feel of his smooth tongue, moaning with every curl of his thick digits that he gives you, relishing the sick, pleasurable feeling of knowing that you finally teased him enough that he gave in. And it’s honestly better than any fake fantasy that you conjured up in your twisted brain. This right here is something you’d be on your knees for every second you could get Joel fucking Miller alone with you.

Another lick to your center and your fingers fall and twist around his dark greying tousled locks. That elicits a groan deep from within his throat, and he has you panting even heavier the more he ravishes your sticky center.

The coil sharply snaps in your belly, and you feel molten lava run down your spine, slipping down your center, your walls clenching tightly around his calloused fingers. “Fuck,” he groans, his tongue lapping up the spilling slick that runs down your thighs messily.

Even coming down from your orgasm, the man still sets your core on fire. “You taste so fuckin’ good, little brat. Like fuckin’ cake on my lips,” he hums, licking off your glistening slick that sticks to his plush lips.

Once you’re coherent enough to form a full sentence, you breathe out raggedly. “Need you, Joel,” you whine, reaching for his flannel collar until he pushes your hand away.

“Mr. Miller,” he snaps. “So fuckin’ needy,” he mocks, his tongue darting across his bottom lip while he takes his time pulling the top of your dress down. “You want this cock?” he asks smirking, his big hands toying with your now revealed breasts, pinching the pebbled nipples between his fingers, humming happily when a moan slips off your tongue.

“Yes, please,” you beg, hoping he’ll give in to your sweet voice that nearly sings each time his warm body brushes against yours. You’re desperate because now you really want him. You want to know what it’s like to be fucked by Joel Miller in the flesh.

“You gonna tell me where Sarah is?” He leans in and brushes his soft lips against the shell of your ear, gently biting until pain turns into raw pleasure.

“Yes,” you say shakily. “After you fuck me.”

His chocolate brown eyes turn carnal, black pits taking over once again as a deep smirk flicks across that warm mouth of his. “If you wanna be fucked like a slut then so fuckin’ be it,” he growls viciously. “Needy fuckin’ girl.”

He yanks the leather belt from the loops of his denim jeans, throwing it quickly over the side of the bed as it falls with a clatter onto the floor. He wastes no time and unzips his metal zipper, ripping his jeans down his legs, his black boxer briefs following quickly after. Your eyes widen when you see just how massive he is, his thick cock hard and pressing firmly against his soft tummy, precum spilling messily over his red, swollen tip that’s begging to be stuffed inside you.

Your jaw drops, and searing pleasure tears through your core the way his cock twitches when he looks down at just how soaked you are again. You’re like a fucking water fountain with no end of flow in sight. You’ve got it so bad for him, but now all you want is to be fucked by this beast of a man.

“Jesus Christ. Already wet for me again? Little slut wants to be stuffed full of my cock, s’that right? Well, congratulations because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t think about anything else but me splitting you in two,” he growls cunningly.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, and then he’s driving his cock straight through your damp folds. The breath gets knocked from your body the moment he plunges inside you, his large width literally splitting you in two until all you can feel is him penetrating your tight walls.

“Fuck,” you moan as his arms come down around your shoulders, caging you in as he drives in harder, bottoming out each time his hips snap up against yours, making you feel so satiated but also starving for more. You love his cock, and you don’t think you’ll ever have anyone else that can measure up to the god of a man he truly is.

“Yeah, takin’ my cock like such a good girl,” he purrs, slapping his hips over and over as your mind starts to become numb from the thrusts of his massive cock.

“M–Mr. M… Miller,” you garble out, eyes rolling into the backs of your lids, reveling in the pleasure of the way he slides in and out of you, hitting that spongy spot that makes your fingers curl into the now dampened sheets.

“‘S’right, sweetheart. Say my name. Look at you all cock drunk. Givin’ you jus’ what you deserve, like the little slut you are,” he chuckles darkly as his tongue darts out and licks ravenously at the nape of your neck. “Lettin’ your best friend’s daddy fuck this tight pussy? You’re such a fuckin’ slut,” he chuckles.

You don’t know why, but the nickname slut makes your insides tremble and has more slick running down his cock with each brush he gives your center. You’re such a bad friend, but you don’t care. You’ve wanted him for so long, and now you have him. You don’t intend to stop now.

He bends your knees toward you, folding them until you’re in the shape of a pancake, his cock spearing into you at just the right angle that makes your moans louder and desperate as he drives you to your quickening second orgasm of the night.

The head of his cock kisses your cervix, drawing shallow breaths from your lungs until the room is enveloped in amber flames. You’re burning for him, and he fucking knows it, too. “Come on, pretty girl. You know you wanna come on my cock,” he taunts, eyes lit with pure mischief that threatens to swallow your cries whole.

“Yes, fuck. I’m right there… I’m right–” Your voice is cut off by the deep growl that comes from his throat the moment your walls clench tightly around his cock, and you feel those walls inside you starting to crumble like every single thing around you does.

“That’s it, little brat. Take it. Spill for me,” he commands with a deep, intoxicating tone that has you coming just seconds after he speaks. You arch your back and moan his name, your ragged breaths scratchy and dry as you come hard on his cock.

“Oh, yeah. Fuckin’ messy girl, goddamn,” he growls as he fucks you relentlessly through the high.

Just when you think he might come too, he pulls out and leaves you crying from the emptiness that makes you hollow from the inside out. You lay there panting, your center ruined from your dripping cum. He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe; he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you off the bed, pushing you down until you’re settled between his thighs.

When you look up from under your long lashes, you see his hard cock shiny with your slick, and his eyes are lustful black pits. “Why don’t you be a good girl and open that pretty mouth, sweetheart. Wanna fuck it. Knock some sense into ya,” he growls.

Your eyes widen and you try to turn, but he grabs the crown of your head and forces your mouth open with the tip of his thumb. “Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” It’s not a question but a demand. And god, you willingly do as he says without a fuss.

Your hands wrap around the base of him obediently, and then your tongue laps at the underside of his cock, tracing the bulging veins that spread like vines down his shaft. Licking across the swollen tip of him, your tongue whisps against his slit, feeling the hot, salty precum envelop your throat as you hum around him.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, your tongue is so… fuck,” he moans once your lips are fully wrapped around him, taking him deep inside your throat until he’s bottoming out, making you gag.

You pull your lips from his cock, catching your breath as a bead of drool connects from your bottom lip to the tip of him, like a spider web spinning its web slowly and maliciously. He looks down at you with a glint in his mischievous eyes, and it’s so smoldering that it catches you on fire.

The pad of his thumb traces gently on your bottom lip, and for a moment you see a glimmer of softness in those dark irises. It’s quickly masked the second he grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs hard, pulling you to the edge of his messy cock. “You wanted to be fucked so badly, so let me teach you another lesson, little brat. Wanna shut you up with something else other than my hand.”

He tugs you forward, and his cock plunges deep into your throat, languidly sliding it in and out, harder and faster with each stroke of his cock. Your eyes water as tears stream down your face, mascara trailing down your lash line with every thrust of his cock. Your cheeks hollow out, but nothing could’ve prepared you for how he humiliates you and ruins you by fucking your mouth repeatedly.

The chilly air hits the back of your bare ass, and the room fills with obscene gagging and choking noises the more your mouth drowns in him. Drool coats your chin and runs down his thick length, but he doesn’t stop, he just keeps plunging deep into the back of your throat like it’s life or death.

“Finally learned how to shut you up,” he teases, ragged breaths growling from his throat the closer he gets to his climax.

You can’t talk, only the washed out sounds of drowning on his all-consuming length fill the void. He practically rips your hair out of the base of your skull, tugging forcefully, snapping his hips aggressively until you feel his tip swell and almost combust. A guttural groan leaves his mouth, and with one more snap of his hips he’s finished.

“Swallow,” he commands. And then he’s spilling his hot seed down your throat. The salty taste makes you moan around him, and a unique taste that can only trademark as his own serenades you, claiming you as his own prized possession.

He ruts once more inside you and then slowly slides out, collapsing on his back while you fall to the floor with a thud, gasping for breath as you choke on thick air. Your nails dig into the soft carpet, piercing through the thick material as you get a hold of yourself. Carefully tugging your dress up and down over your ass, you push yourself up after a few minutes of trying to decipher all that just went down.

Joel lays with a large hand shielding his eyes, groaning to himself and mumbling nonsense under his breath. He’s probably regretting this entire night now, but you know you’re not. And you’d do it again in a heartbeat.

After a moment of standing there staring, Joel lifts himself up and leans his elbows against his knees, his eyes flicking over your panting form carefully. His stare isn’t kind but condescending, until it melts into something a little softer that you just can’t place your finger on.

Is he… growing soft on you?

His eyes flick to yours, his jaw slack and irises golden brown, no more lusting black pits. Something snaps in you, tugging at the pit of your gut that feels a lot like longing, yearning. And you shouldn’t feel this way about your best friend’s forty-six-year-old father, but you do. And nothing could convince you to stay away from him anymore. One taste and you were hooked.

You rock on the back of your heels, almost speechless by the aching feeling in your gut that screams from the loss of his hands on your body, his cock twitching inside you, and for a moment you feel sadness that completely shatters your fragile heart. Finding an ounce of courage buried deep in your throat, you fight to find your now meek voice again. “Are we going to make this a habit, Mr. Miller?”

“Don’t count on it,” he mutters under his breath. “‘S’not a good idea,” he sighs.

A wave of disappointment comes out of nowhere and just about knocks you on your ass, but you stand tall, your chin high in the air. “Fine. I learned my lesson, Mr. Miller. Guess I’ll go find another man to teach me another,” you mewl, letting the cold chill in your spine settle your agitation long enough to turn away from his clenched jaw and deep eyes that try to glue you to the dark carpet of his room.

You give him a mocking smile and flip your hair across your shoulder while you sway your hips toward the closed door. Fine, if he doesn’t want you then you’ll just have to find someone else who can fill you as good as Joel did.

A deep groan falls from his lips, and then you hear him pushing himself off the bed like his life depends on catching you. Joel snatches your waist and spins you around, pinning your back to the wall, just like the position you were in when you first got dragged to this room tonight.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” he spits out, onyx eyes flaring with a hint of jealousy and possession, and then his lips fuse to yours, consuming every fiber of your body as his own.

His plush mouth molds to yours like clay, his warm breath fanning across your swollen lips, and you swear you’ve never craved a man like this, not when his mouth is feasting on you. Parting your lips pliantly, you allow him access inside, his tongue slotting between your teeth and then dancing against your tongue. He tastes like whiskey and smells like sandpaper. He’s intoxicating.

Heat bursts through the room as his tongue invades your mouth, making you dizzy and incredibly needy the moment his hands cup the sides of your face, your fingers scraping gently against the back of his neck. He groans in response, deeping the kiss as he swallows you whole. You don’t hear the blaring music down the hall, you only hear his breath mixing with your own, your moans colliding in sync as a symphony fills the room.

The kiss ends moments later, and you’re standing there panting raggedly, trying to cool off from that heated moment. Joel steps back and rakes a hand heavily down his greying beard, his eyes in a far off place as he thinks and thinks about the actions he made in this musky, dark bedroom of his. Licking his bottom lip slowly, his chocolate eyes finally flick up to meet yours again. “Think you should go on now, sweetheart. We had our fun.” His eyes are heavy, his lids closing momentarily as another long sigh fills the void.

“Can I… can I see you again?” you ask nervously, your heels digging deep into the carpet while you wait with bated breath.

“‘S’not a good idea,” he warns, his nostrils flaring just the tiniest bit until he relaxes his tight shoulders.

“I don’t care,” you whisper.

He looks at you a beat, his gaze trailing over your body, slowly nodding to the door, your cue to leave. You give him a small smile and make your way out, only stopping in the doorway when the door is inched open and loud music fills the room. You turn and give him some words for him to mewl over. “Ummm… thank you, Mr. Miller. For making me feel alive,” you blush.

“Jus’ Joel, sweetheart. Jus’ Joel.”

“Right…” you smile, knowing you won him over. “Oh, and Sarah’s out back by the pool. See you around, I guess. Joel…” Without giving him a chance to say anything else, you turn down the hall, your chin held high knowing you just charmed Joel fucking Miller.

He’s everything you ever wanted and everything you couldn’t have. But this wouldn’t be the only time you saw Joel Miller. No, you’d see him again.

Joel topples onto the bed, letting the scent of your vanilla perfume permeate his ruined sheets. He fucking smells you everywhere, and now he can’t get the sight of your pretty, glistening eyes out of his smothered head. He groans, letting the heel of his palms dig deep into the sockets of his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see your shredded panties on the floor he wouldn’t be so wound up about you, but he still is, even with his eyes locked shut

This is so fucked. You’re his daughter’s best friend, and he’s way too fucking old to be playing games with a twenty-three-year-old. But yet he wants to play, wants to teether you to his body until you can’t move, can’t escape from his strong hold on you. He’s got it so bad that he can’t even think straight. All he sees is you. And he doesn’t think he can stay away for long, so he won't. No. He’ll have you again and when he does, he won’t let you leave so quickly.

He clenches the sheets in his fists and sighs, letting his eyes close as his body relaxes, tuning out the booming music that floats through his door. He lets your sweet scent carry him off into a light sleep, and the last thing he hears is your beautiful voice float through his ears as you call him Mr. Miller before sleep takes him down.

And when he dreams, all he sees is how fucking wrecked you looked in between his ruined sheets.

He’s not done with you. No. Not even close.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #bfd!joel #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #brat taming #brat taming! Joel #joel x female reader #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the smut hits hard with this one #joel the last of us #no use of y/n #pre outbreak!joel

1K notes · View notes

hoshigray · 10 months ago

Note

hey love can i request brothers bff cho and how he's just down bad for you 🤍🤍🤍

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg wait, i fucks with this baddd

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m!) - oral (m! receiving) - tit/breast fucking (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (baby, darling, honey, sweetie) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - implied that reader is big chested - Choso crushing on you hard, lmao - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

Choso knew better than to be attracted to you, the sibling of his best friend ever.

Your brother and Choso have been buddies for a while, meeting during his part-time job at a burger joint as servers and finding out they have so much in common. Being older siblings, lovers of rock music, and relating to so much together, the two often hung out after work and became pretty good friends. Just two people vibing out in each others’ company, and there was nothing to make this relationship complicated!

“Hey, Choso, I’ve told you about my sister before, right?”

You greeted him with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Choso!”

Well, that is until you came and absolutely rocked Choso’s world.

You were the younger sibling of two; a college senior comes home biweekly to take care of laundry and then drives back up for your education. By your gorgeous face and alluring figure, Choso was struck by your image from the first time his eyes ever laid on you. You were such a kind spirit, always so sweet to him and others surrounding you — you’d want to hang with the boys whenever you had the chance while you were visiting, which was hellish for the brown-haired man.

You’d laugh along with the jokes, making Choso’s heart skip uncontrollably, and the way you’d lean to him when you’re sleepy watching a movie with them pushed the guy on the verge of shutting down. He could never get tired of how you’d say his name; it came out so dear from your lips as if he could be under your spell at any second. And it didn’t help that you’d walk around the house with shorts on, the lower fringes constantly threatening Choso on whether they’d creep up to see the mere crevice of your ass.

As said before, he knew better than siblings of best friends were off limits. However, you were becoming too much for him. It’s been half a year of seeing you, and there has never been a day or night where you haven’t popped up in his head one way or another, particularly when his mind would think of you in the most…lustful ways.

He throws his head back, reminiscing about you and your outfit from the pub. The way your breasts were tucked in nicely by the window of your bodycon dress, yet the cleavage was too tempting for his eyes not to notice. The dress sculpted your curves dangerously, Choso fighting the urge to put his hand on your hip to feel your clothed skin. And your lipgloss made your lips shine; every time you spoke to him was a test for him not to kiss you right there in front of your brother. It was so cruel how you looked so good for him!

He was spending the night at yours after a night out drinking with you and your brother, using the basement bedroom to sleep. Sleep evades him; however, he uses this space to deal with the erection he’s been dying to indulge in this entire night instead. His teeth pull the bottom of his shirt, dark jeans discarded to the floor, and his hand pumps his shaft that’s freed from his boxer briefs.

He grunts at the memory, teeth grinding while he strokes his long cock. Precum exuding from the urethra slides down to the base and wets his fingers. “Fuuck, Y/n,” your name is said in choked moans, the horny man fisting himself in a faster motion. Brown eyebrows are trenched, and his abdomen begins to flex. Shit, I’m so close, so cl—

“Choso?”

He never in his life froze still in an instant, and his heart goes to a complete stop, too. No way.

“Ca–…May I come in?”

No words are said from either side, so Choso’s heat immediately shifts to icy cold when he hears the door open, and your frame is all he sees. You’re still wearing the beautiful dress, yet your face is molded into an expression of utter anxiousness. Sweat goes down Choso’s forehead, oh fucking shit!

“I came down to see if you were okay and needed anything,” your eyes were downcast to the floor, chewing on your lips during this awkward situation. “But…I heard you say my name and…”

Oh, it was so over for him. All Choso could do was stare at you in dread, entirely shocked that you saw him masturbate at the thought of you! You were fidgeting with your dress, perplexed about how to handle this predicament, too. He was so done for; not only was he thinking of you, the sibling of his best friend, and using said thoughts of you, but now you are aware of how he pictures you in his fucked up head! Yup, he can never walk into this house again. “S–Sorry, Y/n! I’ll just go and—“

“Can I help?”

Again, his body goes rigid mid-stride of getting off the bed after pulling his underwear up. ….What?

“I mean, can I…help you with that?” You meekly walk into the room and close the door behind you. “I am the one who made you like this, so…I’m okay with it if you are…..”

Choso blinks, too alarmed to make any movements. “But, your brother…” You’re quiet for a few seconds before you spook him by taking steps in his direction. He gulps thickly when your figure crawls on the bed, too close for his brain to comprehend. You take his hand with your soft ones and bring his fingers to your lips to kiss, and his breath hitches when you suck and lick his digits. The boner stuffed in his briefs twitches at the sensation of your tongue running against the underside of his middle finger and sucking on it.

You peer at him, “What about him?” That is what you say before lifting your dress to remove your panties. And just when Choso thought his life was about to be thrown in the gutter, you flipped the script on him again.

In his head, Choso knew he shouldn’t be doing this.

“Mmm…Mmahh! Oh, Choso, you taste so good…”

But in his heart, he couldn’t help but give in to this situation.

You were situated between his legs, ripped him off his briefs for you to suck on his glans freely. Your tinge dances around his cockhead to prompt more come to ooze out of his urethra, and your hand slides up and down to stroke his member. Choso whimpers under your touch, and shivers crawl up his spine as you lick from the base to the tip before sucking hard.

“Fuuck, Y/n,” he grips the sheets, barely containing his hips to buck to your lips. “Your mouth, it’s—Hssshh…!”

“Mmm?” You blink before releasing the tip with a sound. “What about my mouth, Choso baby?” Fuck, the nickname made the pink of his ears creep down to his nape. “You feel good?” He nods at your question, and you giggle before sucking one of his balls, resulting in a sharp gasp from the brown-haired man. “I’m so happy you are…”

Hallow cheeks take in his cock, busying your throat with his length that has you humming blissfully. You massage his waist as you bob your face up and down, and shaky breaths leave his lips while his legs jolt with every swish of your tongue.

“—Shhiiit, oh shit, hnnn,” he can’t do it, you were driving him crazy. “Y/n, you’re gonna make me…Mmmm”

You pick up on his cue, withdrawing your lips from him to maneuver and pull down the top of your dress. Caramel eyes widen at the sight of your breast spilling out, forgetting how to breathe when you bring them to wrap around his long dick. You move them around to please him, taking the tip back into your mouth to slurp his leaking essence that trickles down to your chest.

“Mmaahh, go ahead, darling,” you place kisses on the tip, Choso looking at nothing but your mounds swallow him with every stroke. It takes mere seconds for his orgasm to sneak up on him, his jizz coming out to fall and trickle down in between the rifts of your tits. “There you go, let it out for me…” the way you looked at him with half-lidded eyes took his breath away, especially with the spit that connects your gloss-shining lips to his spit-and-come coated shaft.

And when he’s finally inside you? He’s too far gone to even think of being away from you.

“Ohhh, hoooh!! Chosooo, y’u feel soo good!”

Your dress was cast-off entirely, your nude body bouching up and down on Choso, his cock bullying the inside of your cunt. It’s been a solid fifteen minutes shared between the two of you exploring each other’s bodies, and sweaty skin exchanges heat from the constant motions. And come from rounds prior spill from your chasm as you ride on Choso’s dick with a rhythm.

He has his hands on your hips now, using you to keep him steady before he gets too lost in the feeling. Not that it hasn’t happened already; the man moans with every clamp of your walls around him, tightening around him with every graze of your g-spot. You wail for him up top, and your aroused sounds have to be the cutest things he’s ever heard. And the way your tits jump every time you plummet down to the base of him, it’s an image that will haunt him for the rest of his days.

“Tahhh, ughh, Jesus Christ…” He’s too sensitive right now; he just came not too long ago and is now being chased down for another one. “Y/n, sweetie, too fast, slow d—Ahh…!”

You hear him and titter, “Yeah? Want me to slow down, huh…” You bring your hips up excruciatingly slow, listening intently to the shaky sobs from the brunette as you get to the very top. And then you smack yourself down with haste, sharing a yelp at the rushed sensation. You do it again, “Think you’re about to cum again, huh, honey?”

His hands now come to your ass to grope with the flesh, and you twitch around his girth at the hunger. “Yeahhh…”

“You gonna be good and cum for me again, right?” Another snap of your ass crashing down on him.

“Yess, baby,” he throws his head back to the pillows, his head pounding so hard it could kill him. You can feel him pulsating within your slit. “Almost there…Ohh–ooo..!”

You bite your lip, relishing at the sight of him being desperate for release. You lean forward to him, your breasts meshing with his chest as you snake a hand around the back of his head. You place your lips on his, and he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

The kiss gets hotter when you dial up the speed, tongues swirling and exchanging spit as the friction becomes a lot more pleasurable than before. Choso’s ears ring the deeper you bring him in to kiss, humming on his tongue as you suck on it with harsh rocks on his length from scraping places you couldn’t reach. He’s so fucking addicted to you; his composure long deteriorated the moment he first put his cock inside you.

Choso bucks himself to you in sync, his climax coming in just a few ruts. He howls into you, and you wail along as your hips don’t rest until you’re hit with a crescendo of your own. Contracting your vaginal walls milks him, exerting his load into you again to spill and flow down your sticky frames.

You two heave and pant in each other’s mouth before the kiss is broken, and the string of saliva is evidence of you being one with the other. Although the both of you are dazed, you smile at him before kissing his nose. “Glad I helped you out, huh?” He chuckles weakly as you lay kisses on his chin.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

And just like that, the two of you are frozen yet again. Wait…

Too late, the bedroom door busts open with a bang, and in comes your brother!

“Yooo, Choso, my guy—hic,” your brother stumbles inside the room, still a bit loopy and drunk. “Wanna go up and hit a quick blunt with— ah…”

The heat shared between you and the man below you switched to silent torture, awkwardness suffocating the three figures staring at each other. And this is the exact reason why Choso should’ve known better than to mingle around with you…

2K notes · View notes

insidekatmind · 1 month ago

Text

Forgiveness- Hwang Jun-Ho

Wearning: smut,+18

Request: yes!

The cabin of the ship was steeped in heavy silence, broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the hull. Jun Ho was hunched over his desk, studying a worn and annotated map, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tracing invisible paths toward the island he was so desperately trying to find.

You had entered the room quietly, but he hadn’t even turned around. For weeks, he had been distant, cold, a prisoner of his obsession with that island, and you had had enough.

“Jun Ho,” you called, your voice steady despite the lump tightening your throat. “We need to talk.”

“Not now,” he replied, without even looking up.“No, now,” you insisted, stepping closer. “You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. I see you destroying yourself over this mission, but what are you destroying in the process? Us?”

This time, he lifted his eyes to meet yours, the looks clashing like two waves colliding. “Don’t make this harder, Y/N. I don’t have the time or the energy for these pointless things.”

“Pointless?” you repeated, incredulous. “Really? Is that how you see me? As something pointless?”

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t stop. “You know what? I’m tired, Jun Ho. Tired of feeling invisible. If this is your priority, then maybe there’s no place for me in your life.”

Something shifted in his expression. His eyes darkened, his face contorted into an expression you had never seen before. He stood up abruptly, and before you could process what was happening, his hand rose and struck your cheek.

The slap left you stunned. The sting spread quickly across your skin, but it was nothing compared to the pain that pierced your heart.

Jun Ho froze, his hands trembling as he stared at you with an expression of pure horror. “Y/N…” he stammered, his voice breaking. “I… I didn’t mean to… God, I didn’t mean to…”

You stepped back, pressing a hand to your stinging cheek. You stared at him, heartbroken, unable to find the words.

“Y/N, please,” he begged, stepping closer. “I don’t know what came over me… I was blinded… I’m… I’m a monster.”

“Let me say that,” you hissed, tears filling your eyes. “Do you know what hurts the most, Jun Ho? It’s not this…” you gestured to your reddened cheek. “It’s knowing you lost control to the point of hurting me. That you’ve become someone I don’t even recognize anymore.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, his fists clenched, his eyes brimming with tears. “You’re right. I’m not myself anymore… but I can’t lose you, Y/N. Please, don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You shook your head, your breath shaky. “This isn’t something you need to say to me, Jun Ho. It’s something you need to say to yourself. You have to figure out who you are and who you want to be. I can’t help you fight your demons if you don’t even want to.”

The silence between you was deafening, broken only by his soft sobs. Finally, you turned and left him there, kneeling on the floor of the cabin, crushed under the weight of his guilt.

Jun-ho came to your cabin with a lost puppy face. "Hey baby" he murmurs softly.You were sitting on your bed, reading a book. At the sound of his voice, you lifted your gaze, and a mix of irritation and relief washed over you. Seeing him now, looking so defeated, the anger that had been burning inside you gradually faded, replaced by a sense of worry.

You set your book aside and turned to face him, folding your arms across your chest. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice flat.He gently walks over to you and sits on your bed. "I'm sorry baby" he whispers repentantly.

Your heart softened a little at his apology, but you didn't show it. "Sorry for what, exactly, Jun Ho?" you asked, continuing to maintain your guarded tone. Jun-ho fidgeted with a loose thread on the bedcovers, avoiding your gaze. "You know what for," he muttered quietly. "For... losing my temper. For... for hitting you."

You look at him carefully, sighing and not saying a word.He dared to lift his eyes to meet yours, and in that moment, you could see a mix of shame, regret, and fear in his gaze. He knew he had messed up, but he was also terrified of losing you.

He shifted awkwardly on the bed, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously. "I don't know what came over me," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was just so frustrated... and angry... and... I lost control."

You gently take his hand. "You need to unplug a bit, soon you won't even sleep anymore to find this damned island" you say softly tracing small relaxing circles on the palm of his hand.

A wave of relief washed over him as you took his hand, gently tracing calming circles on his palm. The touch of your fingertips was like a soothing balm, helping to unravel the knots of tension he'd been carrying within him.

Jun-Ho looked down at your hand on his, his expression riddled with guilt and vulnerability. "I know," he murmured, his voice slightly shaky. "But I can't just... stop. This island... it's all I think about. It's like an obsession."

You look at him softly and make him lie down by placing you on top of him and massaging his shoulders. "Love, I didn't say you had to stop, just a fear to relax" you say softly.

He let out a soft sigh as you pushed him gently to lie down, his body relaxing into the mattress. The massage that followed felt like a release, easing some of the tension that had built up in his shoulders.His eyes closed, and he allowed himself to relish in the touch of your hands on his body. "I... I don't know if I know how to relax anymore," he confessed, his voice so low it was barely audible.

You gently lower your face and kiss his neck softly. “I know how to make you relax love” he says softly and with a bit of seduction in his voice as you lick his neck.

He shivered under your touch, a mixture of pleasure and tension coursing through his body. The sensation of your tongue against his skin sent a jolt of electricity through him, igniting a familiar heat. Jun-Ho opened his eyes, his gaze darkened with a mix of yearning and vulnerability. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "If you keep this up, I won't be able to hold back..."

You smile at his words and nibble on his neck. “Good to know, love,” you say and grab his face to kiss him passionately.As your lips met in a fierce, passionate kiss, all the pent-up frustration and tension within him broke free. With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate, hungry dance. His hands roamed over your body, gripping you tightly, as if trying to assure himself that you were really there, that you hadn't left him yet.

The room seemed to disappear as your bodies moved together in a heated frenzy. His hands moved with a sense of urgency, tugging at your clothes, needing to feel your skin against his.He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and trailed his lips down your neck. "Y/N," he gasped, his voice husky with desire. "I... I need you. I need you so much, it's driving me insane."

You smile at his words and nip at his jaw playfully. “It's okay love, remember that you have to make it up to me and this is your time” you tease, nipping at his neck.

He groaned at the mixture of pleasure and frustration. Your words and the feel of your teeth against his skin sent a thrill through him, but he also knew you were right.Jun-Ho placed his hands on your hips, gripping them firmly as he rolled over, switching positions. With a low rumble, he trapped you underneath his body, his eyes dark and burning.

"You're right," he grumbled, his voice filled with a combination of excitement and determination. "And I intend to make it up to you, in every single way."You smile at his words.

His lips found your neck again, and he started a trail of kisses down your throat, each one lingering a bit longer than the previous. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, caressing every curve, every inch of skin he could reach.He pushed the hem of your shirt up, his fingers tracing patterns across your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He gently bit the sensitive skin of your hip, his tongue soothing the pain away immediately after.

His lips returned to yours in a searing kiss, possessive and tender at the same time. He moved against you, grinding his hips into yours, creating a delicious friction that only fueled the flames of desire between you.With each movement, he communicated his need for you, his desperation to make things right. He tugged at your shirt again, his voice hoarse as he pleaded, "Take it off. Let me see you."

As your shirt slipped off, he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes roaming over your bare skin with an expression of reverence. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his words a low, husky confession.His fingers traced over the curves of your body, mapping out every contour, his touch gentle yet tinged with a hint of possessiveness. He leaned down to place small, soft kisses along the path his hands had just taken.

He lingered over your stomach, his teeth lightly grazing your skin, his tongue tracing lazy circles. He could feel the shiver that rippled through your body at his touch, and it only fueled his own need.His hands moved to your hips, his grip firm but not painful. He leaned down and whispered against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desire. "I need you. Now."

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants, and he gently started to pull them down, his eyes never leaving yours. He watched the excitement mixed with anticipation on your face, and he felt his own body react to it, his heart pounding, every muscle in his body taut with need.He continued to remove your pants, his movements slow and deliberate. Each new inch of skin revealed was like a revelation, and his hands seemed to trace a path of fire as they explored your now-exposed legs.Jun-ho knelt between your thighs, his hands resting on your hips, holding you in place. His gaze traveled up your body, his eyes filled with a possessive intensity that matched the primal need coursing through him.

He looked ready to devour you, the heat in his eyes matched by the rough edge to his voice."You're mine," he growled, his thumbs digging into your hips. "Every single part of you." Jun-ho leaned down, his lips barely touching your skin, sending another shiver through you. "And I'm going to show you exactly how much I need you, Y/N."

“Yes please” you murmur softly looking at him.He started a slow, torturous journey with his lips, trailing kisses along the inside of your thighs, moving closer to the place where you ached for him the most.

As he continued, he could feel your body responding to his touch, your breath becoming increasingly ragged, your hands clenching into the sheets. It was a dance of desire and power, and he was the master, knowing exactly how to make you tremble, how to bring you to the edge.

He chuckled softly at your gasps and moans, his breath hot against your skin. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and dominance.As he continued his slow, torturous assault, he knew he was driving you to the brink of madness. He wanted you to feel how much he needed you, how much he craved every inch of your body.

"Baby plaese" you murmured.Your words were like a plea, a desperate plea, and he couldn't resist it any longer. The sound of your voice, pleading and needy, was like a drug to him.

He lifted his head slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Please what, love?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“I want more” you whisper longingly.He smiled slightly at your words, his eyes darkening with even more desire. He liked it when you pleaded, when you admitted how much you wanted him.

Jun-Ho shifted his position, moving up and pressing his body against yours, trapping you beneath him. "More, you say? What exactly do you want, love? I need to hear you say it."

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered longingly as you gripped his shirt.His chest rumbled as a low, guttural moan escaped his lips at your words. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks that would be evidence of his desire.

"As you wish, love," he growled in your ear. "But first, I have a request."You look at him carefully waiting for him to speak.

He paused, his gaze locked on yours, his breathing ragged. You could see the heat in his eyes, the desire burning within him.Jun-Ho lifted a hand to gently caress your cheek, his touch reverent as his voice dropped to a whisper. "I need to hear you say my name, love. When you're calling out, I need you to know who you belong to."

“I belong to you and only you Jun-Ho” you whisper softly caressing his chest.His breath hitched at your words, and a rush of possessiveness washed over him. The sound of his name on your lips, coupled with your declaration of belonging to him, sent a primal thrill through his body.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting and claiming you. He wanted to imprint himself on you, to make sure you knew that you were his and no one else’s.

You moaned into the kiss as you eagerly unbuttoned his jeans.His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as your fingers worked on the buttons of his jeans. The feel of your hands against his skin, the way your body responded to his touch, it was enough to drive him wild.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes darkened with a mix of desire and admiration. "You're impatient tonight, aren't you, love?" he teased between heavy breaths.

You nibble on his neck. "please baby, I want you inside me. It's been too long" you murmur longingly into his neck.His breath hitched as your lips found his neck, and he let out a guttural moan. He couldn't deny the truth in your words; it had been a long time since he'd been able to be close to you like this.

Jun-Ho tangled one hand in your hair, pulling you closer, his voice a low, hoarse rumble in your ear. "You're right, love," he murmured, his mouth against your skin. "It has been too long. I need you just as badly."

He kissed your neck, then gently pushed you down onto the bed, hovering above you. His hands ran over your body, his touch both tender and possessive, his restraint hanging by a thread."I've missed touching you so much," he breathed against your skin. "Feeling you underneath me. Hearing the sounds you make."

You moan and arch into him. “please baby, come inside me, I need it” you murmur, taking off his boxers.The sound of your pleading words and the feel of your body arching into him was almost too much to bear. His control was slipping, his desire taking over.

With a low, hoarse murmur he complied with your request, discarding his boxers completely. He positioned himself between your legs, his breaths coming in harsh, ragged gasps."You drive me completely wild, love," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I can't resist when you make those sounds, when you're begging me like that. It's what I need too.

You moan and move with him as you place your lips on him kissing him. “Always soo deep” you murmur moaning between kisses.He groaned as you wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into your heat. His mind was drowning in a sea of pleasure, every nerve in his body on fire as he moved with you.

With every kiss, every touch, he lost more control, the desire pulsating between you two becoming more intense. He couldn’t get enough of you, of how you made him feel, of how you made him want you even more.“You feel so good, love,” he growled against your lips, his voice ragged and filled with need.

You moan feeling him increase his thrusts.He pressed deeper into you, each thrust a little rougher, his need for you increasing with every passing moment. He moved against you, a primal rhythm taking over, his breath coming in labored gasps against your skin.He could feel every part of you, every contour and curve, and it was driving him crazy. His hands roamed over your body, his touch becoming more urgent, trying to get as close to you as possible.

"You're incredible," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You make me feel things I've never felt before, and I can't get enough of you."

His head dropped down to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to move with you. He was close, so close to losing himself completely.He lifted his head up slightly, his eyes finding yours, his gaze burning into you. "I don't ever want this to end," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a raw honesty. "Just me and you, like this, forever."

You nod and kiss him again. Jun-Ho's thrusts became more and more animalistic, bringing both of them to the limit.The kiss between you was intense and frenzied, a testament to the need you both felt for one another. Every breath, every touch, was filled with a raw, primal desire.

His thrusts became more urgent, his control completely shattered now. He was lost in the feel of you, in the sound of your breathless moans and the way you gripped him, pulling him deeper into you."I can't hold on much longer, love," he managed to gasp out between harsh breaths. "You feel too good".

You moan at his words and nip at his neck. “Baby, I'm about to come,” you murmur.His breaths against your skin grew more ragged, his movements more erratic. He was on the edge, his whole body coiled tight like a spring, ready to snap.

The sound of your voice, the words you spoke, pushed him even closer to the brink. “That's it, love,” he grunted against your neck, his voice rough and needy. “Come for me. I need to feel you."

You moan feeling his thrusts getting harder and harder, drilling inside you and you came screaming his name. You bit his shoulder to keep from screaming too much.

Your scream of ecstasy and the feel of your teeth on his skin sent him over the edge. He was completely undone, his control shattered.He shuddered against you, his body tensing as his own release overtook him. He groaned loudly, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you tightly against him.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the ragged breaths you both tried to regain control of. He collapsed next to you, pulling you tightly into his arms, his head resting on your chest."You drive me absolutely wild," he murmured against your skin, still trying to catch his breath.

You smiled as you tried to catch your breath and hugged him softly while he was still buried inside you. "Are you feeling better?" You whisper softly.

He leaned into your touch, his body still humming with the aftermath of pleasure. He couldn’t help but smile at your question, the simple words having so much meaning behind them. Jun-ho pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he rested his head against your chest. "I think feeling better is an understatement," he replied, his voice still slightly breathless.

He paused, then added, "But being here, like this, with you...it's exactly what I needed."You smile softly at his words and kiss his jaw. "I love you".

He closed his eyes, his smile growing wider as you kissed his jaw. The feel of your lips on his skin, the sound of your voice, it filled him with a profound sense of contentment and peace."I love you too," he replied, the words leaving his lips easily and wholeheartedly. "More than anything in this world."

I smiled and hugged him even tighter.You stayed snuggled up all night ignoring for once the problems around you.

#hwang jun ho x you #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho #hwang jun ho smut #squid game x oc #squid game imagine #squid game smut #squid game x y/n #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #series netflix #imagine netflix #smut imagine

568 notes · View notes

fungateshortcakes · 12 days ago

Text

Munch Munch

OMG I FORGOT I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FORGIVE ME

Just a lil old man Logan drabble bc UGHHH he can crush my head with those juicy arms AHHH

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Logan never understood why you looked at him the way you did.

He was old. He was tired. His body was breaking down from the inside, poisoned by the very thing that once made him invincible. His hands shook more than they used to and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you saw. You saw everything.

And yet there you were, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, giving him that look again. Like he was something worth staring at. Logan wasn’t used to being wanted. Not like this.

He could feel your gaze tracing over his arms as he sat in his white wifebeater at the kitchen table. This was by far not the first time he caught you staring at him like that. He noticed it every time. The way you would watch the flex of his biceps beneath his shirt, the way his forearms tensed whenever he clenched his fists. He wasn’t blind. And if he had any doubts, well, the way you were looking at him right now? Like you wanted to sink your teeth into him? Yeah. That cleared things up really fast.

"You’re staring again" he muttered, though he didn’t cover up, just took another sip of his drink. "Mhm" you hummed completely unapologetic in how you were goggling his arms. You pushed yourself away from the doorframe and stepped in closer, fingers reaching out to lightly drag over his arm, just enough to make his skin prickle.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the beer can in his hand down on the table "You got a problem?"

"Yeah, actually" you said, tilting your head. "These arms? They’re just sitting there. Not being held. Not being bitten. Wasted potential, really."

Logan choked on a laugh, a rare sound from him "Bitten? What do you-?" before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and without hesitation you pressed your teeth lightly against his bicep. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel it. A playful little bite that was gone as fast as it came.

Logan went completely still. The only sound was the sharp breath he sucked in through his teeth. You pulled back again and watched his reaction, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Huh, that shut you up really quick."

Logan finally blinked, looking up at you like he wasn’t quite sure what the hell just happened. He opened his mouth but closed it before any words came out, rubbing a hand over his beard and sighing deeply.

"You just bit me" he said, like he was still trying to process it.

You grinned "Yeah. You act like you can just sit here with these babies out and expect me not to."

Logan huffed, shaking his head at your words, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He almost a smiled. Almost. But you counted it as a win nonetheless "You’re goddamn ridiculous" he muttered.

"Maybe" you mused with a pout, poking at his arm again. "Now flex for me, old man. Let me see the goods." you demanded, already munching on your bottom lip in anticipation. You just couldn't help it. You knew he was starting to feel his age, to look it, too. But damn, his arms were still plumb 'n thick. Just how you liked them.

Logan let out a low groan and for a second you thought he would just ignore you, but to your absolute delight, he sat up a little more straight, rolled his shoulders back and flexed- just a little, as if to tease. Just enough to make the veins in his forearms pop, to make the muscles in his biceps shift under his skin.

And goddamn, you swore you felt lightheaded...and how your panties were getting wet. You bit your lip at the sight "Shit" you breathed, your eyes fighting from rolling back because good god "You are so hot."

Logan narrowed his eyes at your praise, grumbling something under his breath, but you caught the way his ears burned just a little bit pink. He could act all gruff and broody, but you knew the truth now.

You were disappointed as he lowered his arm again. You stepped closer, placing your hands on his arms, fingers tracing the muscle slowly, deliberately. A shudder ran up his spine at your touch. He tried to play it down, but he couldn't hide the obvious goosebumps explodig over his scarred skin "Do it again, baby. " you murmured, smoothing over his shoulder and arms.

Logan arched a brow "Again?"

"Again" you stated firmly, it sounded like a command to him. And maybe he would follow it. He rolled his eyes, but you were able to catch the slightest smile on his lips that seemed a little proud, flattered even. It was balm for the soul, your words. You actually wanted to see him, worship something he thought no one cared for anymore. But here you were.

Acting as if he was annoyed by your persistance, he lifted his arm and flexed, this time for real. The muscle in his biceps tensed, thick and solid beneath your hands that wandered over the firm muscle. His forearms flexed, veins running up his skin like a goddamn work of art. The old scars, the roughness, the strength, it was all so perfect. Your forearm next to his biceps looked so small, it made your mouth water.

And you couldn’t help it. You made a sound. A tiny, helpless whimper that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

Logan froze and his arm lowered slightly "Did you just-?"

"Shut up" you giggled, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the absolute mess he was making of you "Nah, sweetheart" he said, his voice downright smug and a grin spreading across his face while he stood up, towering over you, wrapping his strong arms around your neck, making you groan as pure, firm muscle surrounded your flushed face "What was that sound?" he teased, his voice low and raspy against your ear

You whined annoyed against his broad chest, wanting him to drop it "Logan"

But he wasn't letting up "You whimpered" he stated matter of factly, clearly enjoying himself "Over my arms."

Your hands slid up his sides, squeezing him. You looked up through your eyelashes, a suggestive grin on your lips "Well, you could just shut me up with these big, strong arms of yours" you purred, leaning up to kiss him. And Logan could already picture the way your teeth would sink into his flesh as he held you in a headlock while pounding his cock into you from behind, leaving deep bite marks on his arms that wouldn’t start to fade until the next morning. He grinned back down at you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

"Let's give you a reason to bite, bub"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Fuck me he is so hot the best he ever looked and I will DIE on that hill. One chance, ONE FUCKING CHANCE!!!! I am not rlly the girly to randomly bite my partner but istg I would munch and nibble and gnaw on his arms FOREVER they are so big and manly and mhmm and yummy and BARK BARK

I have two more old man Logan drafts I completely forgot about- should I post them too?

#logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman #old man logan x reader #old man!logan #x men #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x reader #marvel #logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan howlett smut #old man logan smut #drabble

849 notes · View notes

sugarcoatedstarkey · 8 months ago

Text

sarah cameron’s brother

pairings - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe always did things to piss you off or make you cry.

warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering. (18+)

You searched high and low in the cupboard, waiting for your eye to catch sight of the unopened packet of pink chips you had hidden in the back of the pantry. However after several minutes you came up short, the chips were nowhere in sight. “I swear I brought them” grumbling to yourself, checking once more before slamming the door closed and leaning back against the bench with a sigh.

Just as you go to walk back to your room, the door of the kitchen opens and Rafe walks in. Crumpled up bag in his hand, the smell of salt and vinegar just about smacks you in the face. “You ate my chips!” You shout, stalking towards your best friend's brother in anger. He was always doing something to anger you, he liked getting under your skin. “I don’t see your name on them” he states, he pulls his hand back and throws the balled up bag and it hits you square in the nose.

He chuckles deeply and moves to walk around you, your hand grasps the front of his shirt in frustration. “They were mine. You don’t even like that flavour! Stop stealing my shit!” He laughs again and stares down at you with an unreadable expression, his irritatingly gorgeous blue eyes inspect your face. “It’s cute how mad you get, you're under my roof so I’ll eat whatever I want” he states, his hand moves to grip your wrist, your fingers loosen instantly and he pulls you away from his shirt, rubbing his palm over the wrinkles. “That doesn’t mean you can just eat my stuff… Why are you always doing things to annoy me! Don’t you have a life?”

You don’t even know why you're arguing with him, you know he gets nasty quickly and has you crying in your room for hours. His words always hit too deep, they wouldn’t hurt so bad if you didn’t have such a silly little crush on him.

“Y/n.. I’ll eat whatever the fuck I want. You live here for free, just because you're my sister's best friend doesn’t mean you can tell me what I can and can’t do. And honestly you need to get over yourself.. You think I’m ‘always’ trying to annoy you but maybe have you looked at yourself and realized you're the annoying one, you're the one who came in my life and disturbed my peace. I already have two annoying sisters I didn’t need you as well”

“You're such an asshole!”

“Cry me a fucking river… now get out of my face”

Your neck heats in anger, his words causing you to become slightly emotional. He knew why you were staying with them, he knew you couldn’t go home to your alcoholic parents and his dad wouldn’t take no for an answer. He knew the damage your parents had caused you and yet he still throws around shit like that.

“Fuck you!”

“You fucking wish… I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole”.

You can’t stop the tears that prick behind your eyes, your bottom lip trembles in embarrassment. “Your such a fucking asshole”.

Your feet carry you out the door before you can hear his response, climbing the stairs and slamming your bedroom door closed. Your fingers twist the lock as the tears fall from your eyes, silent sobs wrack your body as you press your palms to the back of the door.

“Open the door y/n”

Biting your lip when his voice bounces off the door, you're shocked he came after you. He usually spits out hateful words and leaves you to wallow in them. “Y/n open the fucking door”.

“Leave me the fuck alone Rafe” your voice cracks, swallowing down your tears in embarrassment. His fist meets the door causing you to jump back in panic, the door handle jiggles as he tries to open the door, you can hear him huffing behind the wooden door.

“I’m not playing around open the door”

You stay silent and move over to your bed, he kicks at the door this time in frustration. You knew he would be pissed off for a few hours but would get over it eventually. Just as silence falls over you the door swings open and you jump at the intrusion, pressing your hand to your chest.

“I told you to open the door”

“Leave me alone Rafe, I don’t want to hear anymore”

He closes the door behind him and walks over you, his fingers grip your chin when you turn your head away from him. “I didn’t mean to make you cry”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, blinking the tears away. “It’s nothing new Rafe”

“What?”

“You make me cry all the time, don’t know why your concerned this time”

His eyes scan yours and he runs a hand over his face in fruatration. “I didn’t know I made you cry… I assumed you could take what I dished out”

You pull out of his grip and sit back down on your bed, bringing your knees to your chest. Looking up at him with glassy eyes, he hated seeing you look this vulnerable.

“Not when you call me names or bring up my living situation” he takes a seat next to you, you can feel his thigh on the bottom of your toes. Sending goosebumps up your arms and down your back, your body shivers at the contact. If he notices he doesn’t comment, his eyes are on the picture of you and Sarah on your bedside table.

“You should have told me”

You shake your head, wiping away the tears that had managed to escape again. “You wouldn’t have listened or you would have just made me feel worse by telling me to grow up or something”

His eyes meet yours again and you both stare at one another in silence, you take this moment to appreciate his chiseled Jaw and buzz cut. His skin is soft and flawless, everything you expected when up this close. “I didn’t mean what I said”

“It’s whatever Rafe, I’ll get over it”

“No it’s not, I didn’t mean it and I didn’t want to make you cry. I just.. I don’t know why I always argue with you, it’s easier”

Your eyebrows crease together at his words, his fingers brush yours slightly and it sends shivers down your spine again. You drop your knees from your chest and instead cross them in front of you. “Why would that be easier than treating me like a human being?”.

“It’s easier to argue with you… because than.. because than I’m not constantly thinking about how I want to kiss you”

Your mouth suddenly feels like the Sahara desert, no words form in your brain as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I-”

His hand is on your knee, skimming across your thigh until his fingers grip at your waist. Your legs shake at the contact, excitement courses through your veins “What are you doing?” You whisper, it feels as though your heartbeat was in your ears. Your chest feels heavy with anxiety as his face inches closer to yours “Rafe”.

As though your voice brought him back to reality he swipes his nose against yours, you can feel his breath on your lips. A fresh set of goosebumps paint themself on your skin. “It’s so much easier just being an asshole to you but I can’t anymore.. not after seeing you cry, not after knowing the words I say cause you to cry alone”

Before you can respond, his lips graze yours, it’s not even a proper kiss and you already feel dizzy from his touch. Your legs unravel themself as your fingers find home at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until his body pressed against yours, his lips meeting yours firmer this time. Almost desperate.

Your nails scratch down the back of his neck as his tongue works against your own, your hips raised off the mattress until you could feel his heavy body against your sensitive one. “Fuck” he groans into your open mouth, your lips almost bruising from the fierceness behind his kiss, his fingers massage at the skin of your waist.

Your hands fall from his neck to creep under his sage green shirt, fingertips kissing the skin of his stomach. You can feel him clench under your touch, pressing his erection to your cunt. “Oh god” you moaned at the ache that gnawed at your sensitive bud, you needed friction. You wrapped your legs around his hips and flipped the two of you over until your clothed pussy pressed firmly against his bulge. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long” he mumbles, attacking the delicate skin of your neck, sucking and nibbling until your hips begin rolling against his cock. “Me too”.

His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, gripping your cotton covered ass cheeks. You're embarrassingly wet, your arousal soaks the panties you wore. His rough hands part your cheeks, you can feel your pussy opening waiting for the intrusion of his fingers but instead he presses you firmer against his erection. Rolling his hips into yours, your sensitive clit throbbing with each movement. “Oh fuck” you curse, your head falls forward causing your hair to create a curtain over your face.

Your forearms press against Rafe’s chest to keep you up right. One hand leaves your ass and slips under the two of you to grip your throat, he pushes you up slightly so he can get a look at your face. “You like that?”

“Mhm… I need more” he doesn’t say a word and instead slips his fingers inside your panties. The dampness of your pussy has him grunting, his eyes don’t leave your face as he toys with your clit. Your mouth falls open as you try to organize the words in your head, the feeling of his fingers has you going crazy. “More” is all you manage to choke out, he slips a fingers between your lips and nudges at your opening. Your pussy pulsating around air until he finally slips a finger inside, your arms shake but the hand around your throat stops you from falling onto him. “How many fingers can you take?”

“I- I don’t know.. maybe two?”

He slips three in instead, you cry out in pleasure. You can feel him all over you, he begins to finger fuck you hard. The wetness of your pussy has his fingers gliding in and out without resistance, his mouth kisses at your chest. With the ounce of strength you have left you pull down the fabric of your top to expose your breasts, his eyes fall to them before looking back up at you for a brief moment. He envelopes your perky nipples into his mouth and sucks your tits like it’s his last meal. “Fuck me Rafe”

Your breast falls from his mouth with a pop and he slips his fingers out of your pussy, bringing them to his lips to suck your juices from them. “Now”

He chuckles but obeys, standing up to slip his shirt over his head while you unbutton his pants. Tugging them until they meet the ground and come face to face with his pretty cock, you pull him back onto the bed and climb over him. You’ve stripped your own clothes off and straddle him completely naked, pressing your wet pussy against his cock. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your warm pussy “I don’t have a condom,” he says, leaning up on his forearms as you roll your hips against him. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill” you mumble, too in your head right now to comprehend what he’s saying, focused on rolling your hips against his cock. “Hey, y/n focus please”.

His hands halt your movement, your eyes fall open at the loss of friction. “It’s fine, if you're okay with no condom so am I” you rush, he studies your face for a moment and nods his head, dropping back down against the bed. You reach between the two of you, giving him a few soft tugs before running the top of his cock between your folds. “Jesus” he moans, his cock slowly disappearing within you. He can feel you pulsing around him, he could blow right this second from the warmth of your cunt. “Oh sweet Jesus” you cried as you began to ride his cock. The tip of his head hitting your spongy walls with each thrust, you could already feel your orgasm brewing again. The tips of your toes tingle and your belly swarmed with butterflies, circling your hips against his.

His hands teased your nipples, reaching his head up to capture your lips with his. He let you choose the speed for a bit longer before his hands gripped your hips again and he bucked his hips up, causing you to cry out with each thrust. No longer able to hold onto your orgasm, your walls clenched around him, digging your nails into his chest as he pushed you over the edge until all you could see were white spots. “Fuck fuck fuck… I’m coming!” His fingers slip between the two of you to massage your clit, bringing you over the edge. “Fucking hell… I’m close” he warned, though you were blissed out you met his pace and continued to roll your hips, another orgasm already brimming as you got him closer to his own orgasm. “Rafe yes yes o-h”

Lacing his fingers around your throat as you both came, his own orgasm felt like it wasn’t going to stop as your walls sucked him in deeper as your orgasm riddled your body with pleasure. Your chest meets his, resting your head as the two of you regained composure. Silence fills the room but his fingers dance across your back in an almost sweet gesture, when you finally regain your vision and breath you pull away from him. Reaching to grab your clothes in sudden embarrassment, your cheeks tinted a shake of pink as he watches you get dressed. “Who said we were done?” He questions, grasping the panties from your hand and throwing them across the room. He grips the back of your thighs and pulls you back down onto him. “Shouldn’t we maybe talk?”

“We can talk all you want babe”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red at his nickname, the kindness being foreign towards you. “But I want to kiss you a bit more before we get down to the hard stuff”

“Okay”

🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @hallecarey1 @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @gabys-gabs @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @spookyscaryspoon @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @oceandriveab @slut4ani @spideysimpossiblegirl @kamninaries @rubixgsworld @pickingviolets @wearemadeofstardust0 @one-sweet-gubler (if I have forgotten you please let me know or if you no longer want to be tagged let me know)

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #outerbanks smut #drew starkey smut

2K notes · View notes

metranart · 2 months ago

Text

After that damn dick pic, Gojo broke the window and entered… and basically, TAMED you. That’s how you felt. Satoru Gojo on top of you, pounding your pussy like his life depended on it, not even taking a break to rehydrate as fat drops of sweat started to fall on the feverish skin of your back. His hair was damp, strands sticking against his forehead, cheeks burning and heavy balls drumming against your ass, he should be exhausted, had already come five times, three inside and two outside, but his pace didn’t falter- like that smile on his face or his firm hands on either side of your hip or his muffled moans every time he felt close again.

“Satoru~” you choked, voice weak and lazy, and he licked his lips expectantly. “Satoru….” You repeated, disoriented and you could hear him laugh, amused before his impatience worn out.

“What do you need, baby?”

He asked in a calm that was almost impossible considering how agitated his thrusts were. How the hell did he make himself sound so in control while being so out of control at the same time!?

Your words caught in your dry throat.

“Tell me, don’t put yourself in mute, (y/n)—” he insisted, slowing the pace of his hips but making each thrust more intense, more precise, making sure to hit that soft, spongy spot inside you that made your pussy clench around him and your fists clench the sheets, penetrating you slowly, deliciously slow, as if he wanted you to taste every vein and ridge on his cock. “Come on, tell me little one, you need it deeper, faster, you want to change positions, you want to ride me…. Would you like me to rub your clit again, pull your hair, come on tell me, I’ll do whatever you want—”

“—Get on top of me.”

You forced yourself to say it, embarrassment forgotten, an eyebrow rose on Gojo's forehead, surprise written all over his features, pleasant surprise. And before you had to repeat it, you felt his warm, strong, massive body on top of you… it wasn't enough—

“…Closer….”

“Huh? I didn’t hear, love.”

Gojo leaned down further, holding himself up on his palms so as not to crush you, the height difference between you was alarming, so alarming that when he stuck his cock in you it felt like a forearm entering you. He almost came just remembering it.

“Like this? Or would you rather—…”

“Closer!” You cried against the sheet, “closer, Satoru, crush me—… hold my wrists and—… subdue me,” he could clearly make out the shame smeared in your broken pleas, “as if I were yours… and no one else’s—”

“—YOU’RE MINE AND NO ONE ELSE’S.”

The sorcerer stressed against your ear, his heavy body falling suffocatingly on yours, you could still feel his flexed arms holding most of his weight, still worrying about not crushing you under his immense mass of muscles, and that put a smile on your lips.

“Is this close enough?” He sewed the words against your sweaty hair, breathing in the delicious scent of your sweat and your essence, his large hands wrapped around your wrists. “Now, do you feel mine already?”

He asked, and his cock spasmed inside you, crawling deeper.

“If anyone saw us right now, they would think the worst of me-”

“-That you sent me a picture of your dick, broke the window of my apartment and came in uninvited…no Satoru, why do you think anyone would think less of you?”

His laughter rumbles against your ear, “oh but honey, you didn’t put up the slightest resistance, I barely walked in, and your eyes went down to my crotch-”

“You had just sent me a dick pic-”

“And of course, you couldn’t wait to see the real thing.”

“Gojo!”

You scolded him, but it wasn’t far from the truth, that picture had unleashed something in you that made you almost sexually assault him when you had him in your territory. Little was the dialogue before you were both naked, and shorter was the declaration of love, before you buried yourself in him— YOU! pushing him down on your bed to crawl on top of him and slowly begin to bury that massive cock inside you. YOU, pushing your body down as he holds your waist to keep from tearing you apart since you insisted of not letting him prepare you first, YOU, using all your strength to in one sitting swallow entirely that massive cock, making Gojo shriek almost painfully at how good it felt but in reality, you loving it more as it stretched you like never before. YOU, starting to ride him slowly but acquiring a wild, back and forth, that squeezed an almost animalistic squeal out of the sorcerer before he came way too fast, mortifying him.

“I-I’m sorry, (y/n)… it’s j-just that I like you SO damn much.”

You didn't want excuses, you didn't need them, you just wanted him to keep fucking you and that's what he did, for hours, bending you in every position imaginable, your legs over his shoulders, your face against the wall, against the floor, against the kitchen counter, against the fucking floor. The obvious bed being left as the last bastion of your carnal sin.

“You’re not going to move?” You ended up asking as Gojo just stood there enjoying the suffocating closeness and the even more suffocating feeling of being inside you.

“I’ve already come five times, even I have a limit—” he chuckled, “this is nice, just the way it is.”

You pouted, frowning a little. “Friction is more pleasant—”

“—I DON’T want it to end.”

His statement shocked you.

“I don’t want to wake up from this beautiful dream…” for the first time since you met him, his voice sounded fragile, “this dream where you want me, and you call me yours—” your gasp was smothered against the mattress, “just five more minutes, grant me this, darling.” His sweaty forehead pressed against the back of your head. “I know I sound pathetic but—”

“You are mine, Satoru Gojo, and no one else.”

You offered without hesitation and could clearly hear him gasp, unable to utter a word at your declaration, the same words he had said to you not more than five minutes ago. But they were not the result of passion or heat…. and that was what had him stunned.

“……Marry me?”

Was the first thing that came out of his mouth, and you couldn’t help but laugh as it came back to you, the image of a young Satoru asking you the same thing incessantly through the years.

You tilted your head to the side to glance at him and smiled. You could feel his heart beating excitedly, euphorically against your back.

“You’re not going to stop until I’m Mrs. Gojo, are you?”

“Even if you never are, I’m not going to stop.”

He kissed the words against your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks, up to your lips, which he devoured insatiably, and already sure of his victory, the friction was imminent, as well as him cumming hard and deep inside you, the muscles in his abs tensing against your back to then feel his warm mouth signing your flushed cheeks in a rain of sweet kisses.

Both, spent and comfortable, Gojo stroke your hair in affectionate pets until your breathing even out to then in the gentlest of twists wrap you in his strong arms, rolling you over to use you as his blanket, his warm and sweaty and soft and his, blanket. The delicious tickle of his nails tracing your back as you rested on him almost sent you to the world of dreams.

“—See everything that a dick pic caused.” You spelled in a lazy voice.

Gojo grinned from ear to ear, a dorky smirk on his face. “If this caused just one, let me send you the other fifty I have but never sent you.”

You shook your head, in reprehensible amusement and his eyes obsess over every inch of you, how your brows furrow, how your mouth twitches up, and how he feels so irrevocably blissed out by you.

“Silly boy-”

“Your silly boy?”

You can feel his expectation, thickening the air around both and you grin, granting him the words he wants to hear so bad since he was but a child.

“MY silly boy.”

Satoru glued to your body, letting you sink deeper into his greedy embrace. Maybe being Mrs. Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be so bad, maybe.

➡️🔞 NSFW art of this drabble in my patr30n

Link to PART ONE of this story

484 notes · View notes

moonstonejpg · 2 months ago

Text

support (k.bakugou x reader)

cw: pure fluff, kiri and denki being the best wingmen in the world, oh also ua is a college not a high school bc i said so

bakugo is my comfort character i love him sm and want to protect him at all costs ♡

If he didn’t know any better, he would think the sudden pounding of his heart meant it was acting up again like it did occasionally after Edgeshot revived him, because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t have crushes. And despite it being a natural part of life, it freaks him out a lot more than he’d care to admit. Because Bakugo has always had the same plan, get into UA College and become a top ranked hero; nowhere in his plan did he account for the girl with a heart of gold in the support course.

“Katsuki!” You call, arms full of some unknown material as you jogged towards him. You had a bright smile on your face, and your eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at where you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I did it! Here—hold this please.” You shove the item in your arms towards him, hands animatedly waving towards the different places on as you explain. It took a few moments for Bakugo’s mind to catch up to what was happening in front of him, but once it did his gaze snapped up to meet your eyes in shock.

“—and so, basically, you put this on under your hero suit and it absorbs the shockwaves from your blasts, turning it back into itself to heat your muscles.”

He blinks, his thoughts spinning to the conversation from last week when you had caught him sitting on the rooftop of the college. Instead of leaving, you plopped down next to him, starting a conversation after a few hesitant moments.

“I know you love your quirk, and honestly I do too!” you giggle, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “But if there was something you could change—or well, something to help, what would it be?”

He cocks his head to the side, mulling over your question; he wants to give you a good answer, an honest answer. So, he dips into the vat of his insecurities, unearthing a small secret he’s never shared with anyone.

“I—when I use it too much my arms and shoulders start to ache, and even if I pause to conserve my energy it seems to just leak out and then…eventually both body parts end up going numb. It’s been happening more frequently now that we are training longer, and it—it sucks to be quite honest.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, eyes fixed on a distance point on the horizon. He glances sideways at you, noticing the indent between your eyebrows. Your tongue pokes out, and he realizes this is your thinking face. He’s amazed that he can see the wheels turning, and wonders what’s going on in your brain.

It’s silent for a few moments, before you jump up, an excited gleam in your eye. You start to leave, pausing to turn back to him, your face now serious. “I won’t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me.”

He nods once, and the seriousness evaporates as you smile at him, then disappear down the stairs.

“Was…is this okay?” You ask suddenly, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as he stared dumbly at you, not a single word leaving his lips since you handed over the gadget. “I—I just thought that—I can take it back!”

“No, I—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I had just thought…well, either way it doesn’t matter.” You reach your hands out to take the thin fabric back, but he holds it above your head, forcing you to stop and look at him in surprise.

“I love it, you just—you surprised me is all.” He mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I wish I could do something to thank you, something other than just standing here looking like a fool.”

“I don’t need anything from you, really! It’s, well, it’s a gift.” You reply quietly, twisting your hands together then shoving them back behind your back. There’s a light pink stain on the apples of your cheeks, and Bakugo gets the alarming urge to kiss you. Instead, he fists the cloth in his hands and lowers his arms, cradling the material to his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, still in shock that someone would do something like this for him.

You nod once, a soft smile on your face as you turn and leave the hallway, his eyes not leaving your back until you’re just a speck at the end of the corridor.

Hours later he’s still thinking of the exchange; feeling incredibly stupid for not asking for your number at the very least. He’s supposed to be helping Kirishima and Kaminari study for their exam in the library, but how could he possibly do that when all he wants to do is replay your smile over again on a never-ending loop.

“Bakugo? Hey, Katsuki!”

Fingers are suddenly snapping in front of his face, effectively ripping him from his thoughts. “What?” He grumbles out, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his face.

“What’s up with you lately, dude?” Kaminari asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugo doesn’t respond, distracted by the familiar girl at the far end of the rows of books.

Kirishima throws his elbow into Kaminari’s side, rolling his eyes at the huff of indignation the blonde lets out. He tilts his chin up to the other end of the room, and that’s when they notice Bakugo’s eyes locked on to where you’re seated, book in hand.

They watch, transfixed as a slow smile stretches across the blonde’s face, his chin nearly dropping in his upturned hand to watch you.

“Oh. Oh my god.” And suddenly everything makes sense to the pair. Kirishima and Denki lock eyes, secretive smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“She’s really pretty.” Kaminari muses, shutting his textbook and leaning back in his chair.

“Mm.” Katsuki grunts, only half paying attention.

“And way smarter than you.” Kirishima says, eyes locked on his friend.

“Wait, what?” Bakugo asks, attention snapping back to his friends.

“So the day has finally come…our blasty boy has officially grown up.” Kirishima pretends to wipe non-existent tears, sniffing a little.

“What are you two idiots talking about?” Bakugo asks gruffly, flipping a page in his textbook.

“Oh nothing, just—"

“When’s the wedding?” Kaminari asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Again, what are you even talking about?”

“You have a crush!” Kaminari coos.

“I mean, I would like to crush your heads together.” Bakugo mumbles, but they can’t miss the way his cheeks turn pink. He avoids all eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to read the page in front of him. “She ah.” He clears his throat, “She made me this material to go under my hero suit, something about the shockwaves from my explosions being fed back into the material to…well, anyway, she brought it for me today. And I should have asked for her number, but…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

I’m scared.

Kirishima puts a steady hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, knowing the fear his friend feels is more than warranted. Bakugo is silent for a few moments. And then, “I have all of these hard edges, and I don’t know how to be soft.”

“You don’t need to be soft; you need to be yourself.” Kaminari whispers, smiling at him. “And something tells me she probably feels the same way about you.”

Kirishima and Kaminari lock eyes again before standing and calling your name. Bakugo watches in abject horror as they approach you, his knee bouncing faster as they speak, the distance too great to listen to what exactly was being said. His eyes flit across the trio, panicking slightly.

He knew deep down that his friends just wanted him to be happy, but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and strangle them both. Bakugo briefly considers blowing the entire room up but decided against it at the thought of another bill being sent to his parents.

He watches as you put your book face down, eyes moving between his friends. They say something, then you frown before responding. The exchange feels like hours but is only a few minutes before you stand. You look over, locking eyes with Bakugo, then begin to make your way over to him.

He catches both Kaminari and Kirishima shooting him a thumbs up, before scuttling out of the library, leaving their books and backpacks behind where Bakugo sits. He scrambles out of his chair, choosing instead to lean a hip against the edge of the table as you approach.

“Hi.” He whispers, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck.

“Hi.” You reply, pressing your hands together before twisting them together again. He recognizes the movement from hours before, cataloguing the nervous habit in the file in his brain under your name. “They said you had something to tell me?”

“I—you make my chest feel weird.”

“Um, what?” You squeak out.

“No! No, I mean—god, I’m fucking this all up.” He heaves out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with you. “I appreciate your gift, more than you know. And I like how smart you are, and that I can see the wheels turning in your head when you’re thinking really hard. I like how you aren’t afraid to talk to me, and I haven’t…I’ve never felt like this about another person before. You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you, and I-I like you, a lot.”

Your jaw drops slightly, eyes flickering back and forth across his face. He swallows, taking a step towards you before hesitantly reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asks quietly, swallowing nervously.

You blink before a smile splits your face, and you nod. He smiles back, and before you lose courage, you push up on the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek, giggling when you pull away and see the now bright red color flooding his cheeks.

“I like you too, Blasty.”

#katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki imagine #bakugo x you #katsuki x you #mha x reader #mha x you #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo

450 notes · View notes