#I know I'm supposed to hold out hope and wait for the right time and whatever but I actually can't see it happening at all lolol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baby-yongbok · 3 months ago

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OnlyFans

Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]

✦ Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots

✦ Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.

✦ CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ✦ A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✧ Masterlist ✧

Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that you’re hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?

Is he big?

How would he feel?

Wait - how did he not recognize your voice?

You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but you’ve uploaded voice notes. You’ve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that you’re the only girl that he follows on the site… Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up.

The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great.

You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. That’s when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.

You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesn’t care. He won’t mention it, he’ll just get off to your videos and that’s that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, that’s so normal. You’re so normal about this.

By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’ll call him back…later.

Not even three minutes later there’s knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. You’re expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. “Are you okay?”

Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. “I called, you didn’t answer.” You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment.

“Right, yeah yeah come in, what’s up?” You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. “You have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.”

”I gave that back, didn’t I?” You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. He’s seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but it’s different this time, right? No, it’s not supposed to be different. We’re acting normal. We’re so normal about this.

”Noona?” His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. “Is everything alright? You keep spacing out.”

Has his hand always been this damn big? That’s all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where he’s holding you. “I’m fine, Jeongin,”

”You usually call me Innie.” He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. “Is this about last night?”

You pull away from him like he’s on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. “I’ll go look for that jacket.”

You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, you’re acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big?

Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like… that? Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace.

After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. He’s washing your dishes while he hums some song that you’re sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you can’t think straight. Your brain isn’t working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes… In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants.

Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeongin’s toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good.

You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as you’re about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but it’s only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.

”Ya, noona!” He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. “What the hell? You scared the life outta me.” He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble.

“Why are you just standing there?” You don’t even hear his question. You can’t hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you.

The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been… so hot? “Noona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?”

He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. “I uh, found the jacket.” You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating.

“Forget the jacket, I’m trying to figure out if -“ He takes another step towards you and you take two back.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.” You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?

What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?…Why is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that you’ve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you can’t let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didn’t even mean it like that…right?

You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because it’s not what you want. It’s not him, do you want him?

You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you can’t take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything.

Before you can even really think about it you’re in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where you’ve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe he’ll love this too.

You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. “Hey there…Do you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.”

You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I can’t get you off of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.”

You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that it’s still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.

”I want you.” It’s more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. “I want you so badly that it’s driving me mad. I bet you know that though, don’t you?”

You nearly say Jeongin’s name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. “Tell me that you thought about me too.”

Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that you’re sure that Jeongin would recreate. He’d explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. He’d rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. He’d be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. He’d be everything.

You didn’t even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what you’ve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you don’t care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.

There’s nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and it’s all for your best friend. All for a man that you’ve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when he’d hold you or play around with you but you’ve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. That’s when the dam broke.

”In- I - I need you.” You almost said it, almost let it slip. “Touch me please, please.”

Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. You’re stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because you’re thinking of nothing but him. Him him him.

The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re completely overshadowed by your moans. “Make me cum, please please please, m’ gonna cum.”

Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. You’re panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as you’re ending the recording it finally slips. “Innie”

After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine.

Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that it’s all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.

You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldn’t think twice about uploading a ramble, you’d usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It can’t be that bad right?

Nevermind

It’s been about an hour since you posted the audio and it’s gotten back to back likes and comments. You’ve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention.

You don’t know what it is about it, maybe it’s the username or the energy behind their message but you’re almost a thousand percent positive that it’s Jeongin on the other side of this chat.

You sound so pretty in your new audio. You’re really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip

You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble… you shouldn’t reply.

Fuck.

You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that you’re sure that he’s blushing in his bed just like you are right now. You’ve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you don’t even care about the money right now, not when you’re having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man that’s been on your mind. Your best friend.

When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didn’t. He acted completely normal like he hasn’t been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours.

You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home.

Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? I’ll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip

Holy Fuck, that’s a big tip… like, money… that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want.

You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that you’ve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, you’ll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.

Right when you send the set to the ‘mystery’ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and you’re instantly covered in goosebumps.

Ayen 🥐❣️: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen 🥐❣️: I work late tomorrow but I’m free the day after, wanna come over?

This is suspicious… right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you don’t wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship.

You’re screaming into your mattress again.

You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it.

You never stood a chance.

You don’t sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. It’s not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isn’t weird. This is normal.

What’s not normal is the way that you’ve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. You’re not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and you’re fucking enjoying it. You’re addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeongin’s house the next day for your hang out it’s all that you can think about.

You’ve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. It’s not.

“You seriously never saw that video before?” Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. You’re sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. ”Never.”

They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. You’re too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that you’re sitting next to the man that you’re secretly sexting.

He hasn’t made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?

Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?

He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.

Bet you’re lookin’ so pretty today, sweetie. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what you’re wearing today?

You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if it’s really him. Yeah, this is your chance.

You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but you’re choking once again when you actually hear it.

Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesn’t unlock it. He doesn’t check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you.

“You okay, noona? You’re spacing out again.” Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth.

“Maybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldn’t have to daydream.” The other two instigate Seungmin’s teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile.

“You’d be obsessed with her too if you’ve seen what I’ve seen” He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe it’s just because he’s talking about you to all of your friends. “She’s worth obsessing over.”

“Share her account then.” You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisung’s attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isn’t phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. “Nope, she’s a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.”

Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felix’s gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that you’re the OnlyFans girl so they aren’t actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.

“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, I’m getting a drink.” Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving.

“I’ll be back.” You mumble but only Felix replies, he’s the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.

Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. He’s grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.

“Hey, did you want -“

“Not here.” You whisper through clenched teeth, it’s quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. “Do not message me here, are you insane?” Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.

”What?” You look back to make sure that you’re still alone before stepping closer to him. ”Do not text me here.”

”Why would I be texting you when you’ve been right next to me?” He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. “I think that you’re confused about -“

”You’re I.2.n.8, I know you are. You’re the one who’s been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.” Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. “You promised not to make it weird.”

”I kept my promise.” He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. “I haven’t made anything weird. I haven’t brought it up. It’s you who thinks that I’m texting you.”

He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you don’t know what for. “ Do you want it to be me texting you?”

The air feels too thick with him so close, you can’t breathe. It’s too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape.

His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. “Don’t run away from me again, noona.” There’s barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.

”Tell me, do you want it to be me, hm?” He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? “Do you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?”

You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Is that what you want, sweetie?”

Oh fuck, it is him. It’s really him.

”Jeongin, we can’t” You’re whispering to him so he whispers back. “Can’t what? What are you thinking about? I’ve only asked you a question.”

”You can’t be this close to me.” Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. “This isn’t right.”

”Yeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isn’t right?” Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? He’s been there a couple of times of course, he’s sat in your bean bag chair and he’s helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that you’ve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos… which means that he also had to have recognized you.

“You knew that it was me the whole time didn’t you?” Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. “You knew that it was my account.” His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils.

“Maybe I did.” He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. “Maybe I hoped it was you.”

His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, it’s enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. “Maybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.”

His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.

It’s heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. You’re panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before you’re tasting him again.

Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, he’s more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.

You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. It’s clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.

“Jump.” His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear.

“I watched every video.” He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. “I listened to every audio. I saved every picture.”

He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. “But none of that is as good as this.” You’re panting and moaning into his ear. Words don’t make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick.

“Do you feel as good as you look, sweetie?” Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. “Can I please feel you?” His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like you’re electric. You’ve wanted this, you wanted this so badly.

“We shouldn’t.” Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

“We shouldn’t” He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.

“We can’t” It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. “You’re my best friend.”

“Don’t worry about making things weird.” He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. “Just worry about what you want.”

He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. “You’re not gonna lose me, don’t worry.” Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking.

“Touch me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, he’s just going to act like he didn’t. “Say it again.”

“Touch me, Innie, please. I wan’ it.” His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.

“No panties, sweetie?” His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. “I need you, it’s driving me mad.”

You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. “You’re driving me insane.” He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.

“Please, no teasing, I can’t take it.” He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. “Innie, please I’ll be so good. I’ll be so good for you please just fuck me.”

He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.

“You’re so tight, noona. So wet.” His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. “Oh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, it’s so hot.”

You’re grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but you’ve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy.

“Innie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.” He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds.

“Did you think of me?” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. “When you made your last audio, did you think about me?” You’re shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high that’s dangling in front of you.

“Yes, I did I did, I thought of you.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but he’s pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when you’re filled with something thicker.

“I know.” He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. “You said my name in the audio, you know that?”

He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss.

You can’t breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. “Shit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.” You can feel his control dissolving. It’s evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.

“I wanna take my time with you.” He whispers against your lips. “I wanna but I can’t.” He’s whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You can’t even really hear him if you’re being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears you’re completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead.

“Please, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.” Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, he’s doing his best to fuck you how he’s seen you fuck yourself. He’s doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that he’d jerk his cock to your content.

“More more more, please. Deeper, I wan’ it deeper.” His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge.

He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isn’t against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. “Move, please. Please, Innie.”

“‘M gonna cum if I move.” His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but he’s lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.

“I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” That’s all that you had to say to break him. That’s all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.

His eyes are shut tight as he moves, he’s biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. You’re so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldn’t answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.

“Innie ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.” You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it.

“Cum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.” His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. “Cum on my cock, noona.”

He’s begging and you’re complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. You’re more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. “That’s it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.”

His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He can’t take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just can’t help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” With one final thrust he’s pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt.

He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeongin’s.

You stare at each other, it’s soft and almost comfortable but there’s still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. “Here.” He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.

“Drink this, please.” He’s gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. “Are you okay?”

You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you don’t know what to tell him. “Hey.” He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. “Everything’s alright. We didn’t ruin anything.”

He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you can’t help but melt into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re just nervous to confront all of this, maybe you’re just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.

He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. “I’m okay.”

“Let me clean you up and we can talk?” He starts fixing himself up and you can’t help but to snort a laugh. “I feel like we did this in reverse order.”

He smiles as he moves over to the sink. “Yeah, maybe.” The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. It’s quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.

“Your bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldn’t fuck there?” Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here.

“You never even brought me my drink!” Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you can’t help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up.

“Are you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.”

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

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lowkeyremi · 10 months ago

Text

Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)

AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3

note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy

Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.

Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.

Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.

Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.

Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."

"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..

Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."

"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.

Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.

Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.

Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.

"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.

You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.

"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.

"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.

Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.

"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."

"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.

Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.

"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."

You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.

Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."

Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.

"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.

"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."

"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.

"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'

Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"

"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.

"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.

Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."

Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.

Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.

tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO

#toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji zenin x reader #toji fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #zenin clan #megumi fushiguro

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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

Note

hi I see you want a request! hb some angst to comfort !drunkgojoxreader where he always shows up drunk confessing his feelings but then acts normal when he’s sobered up. Reader is tired of mixed signals and ends up going on a date with someone when gojo happens to visit sobered up

you can do whatever you want if u happen to be inspired! Hope this helps you get out of your funk

“OH, MY LOVER IS DRUNK” : GOJO SATORU

you and him, you were supposed to be best friends— supposed to. but neither you nor gojo can't keep the feeling of falling. he tries to deny the feeling so hard that he has to drown himself with alcohol, the thing he loves the least, just to forget the feeling, only to come back to you every time he is drunk.

w/c 4.5k

warning : drunk! gojo satoru, non-sorcerer gojo!, angst.

p.s thank you for giving me a chance to write you something, and I'm sorry it took me long enough to write this :'), but i hope you enjoy it! (i don't think i make this angst enough for my liking)

fanart credit to the owner.

it was a tranquil night, the moon casting a soft, ethereal glow through your apartment windows, bathing the room in a gentle light. though the clock read 3:00 AM, sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to find peace. lying on your cold bed, you stared at the ceiling, each pattern and shadow playing tricks on your eyes in the dim light. the blanket was draped neatly up to your stomach, its weight a comforting presence against the chill of the night.

your hands lay flat on top of the blanket, fingers nervously tapping the back of the other hand in a slow, rhythmic cadence. the silence of the night seemed to amplify every tiny sound: the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment, the almost imperceptible hum of the city outside. despite the stillness, a storm of thoughts churned within you, each one keeping you wide awake and alert, as if anticipating something just beyond the horizon.

you were anticipating something, no— more likely, someone. that someone, neither your boyfriend nor your anything, he just likely is a more sinister thing, disguised as a best friend, unfortunately. sinister thing, you describe him, where a silver thread lies between you and him— a bright and bold, tale of your love, gojo satoru.

he is, my sinister thing’ you thought.

you were adrift, suspended in the air, with no destination, no specific place to call home. you existed in a state of limbo, neither firmly standing nor lying down, hovering in a liminal space. your presence was neither filled with love nor marked by the experience of being in love.

you were perpetually caught in a paradox, always existing in a state of “neither,” but never fully reaching a place of clarity or resolution. your existence was defined by an absence of definitive states or emotions, perpetually undefined and drifting, forever caught between the edges of presence and absence.

it was always waiting, waiting, and waiting.

just like how the night before, and before, and right now, waiting in your bed for him to knock— and when he does, you, mindlessly, like you're in ecstasy running a little by little in the middle of the night to open your door, without realizing there's another door you open— your heart.

stumbling, drowning in a sea of alcohol he hates, gojo satoru walks in. and you, like the idiot you are, guide him to your barely-fits-for-his-over-six-feet -ass couch, comfortably lying him there.

“careful,” you whisper through the night.

your warm hands meet with his cold ones, gripping you as if he's holding on for his dear life. you drape his body with a blanket, big enough for you to shield not only his physical form but also the emotions he holds for you, hidden beneath the warmth, hide his love for you, not that you need to know. gojo‘s blue eyes are warm, and dull as they indulge softly in the moonlight and gentle glow from your little lamp on the cover of your living room, appear soft and subdued.

you find yourself seated on the cold, hard floor, while gojo stretches out on your couch, facing you with a look of serene contentment. his handsome face is illuminated by a crooked yet mesmerizing smile, a testament to his charm even in his inebriated state. his hands, chilled and seeking, grip yours with a familiar desperation, yearning for the warmth you effortlessly provide.

this nightly ritual has become a part of your routine—gojo, drinking away his soul, stumbles through your door, his steps wavering yet purposeful. he collapses onto the couch, and you remain on the floor, the quiet observer of his vulnerable confessions. as he speaks of his love for you with a fervor that seems to swell with each passing moment, it’s as if he fears losing you with the break of dawn.

he loves like you’re the very essence of his existence, the heartbeat of his every moment. his affection is a force that shapes his world, a flame that burns eternally in his soul. to him, you are the embodiment of all his dreams and desires, the one who makes every day brighter and every night more meaningful. his love for you is not just a feeling but a profound truth that defines his very being.

when the alcohol fades and his clarity returns, he resumes his usual demeanor, leaving behind only the tender echo of his heartfelt declarations and the gentle imprint of his touch on your hands. he pretends, gojo satoru likes to pretend.

“always so beautiful,” he whispered, his smile fading as his eyes wandered over every contour of your face. he traced the delicate path of each freckle, every mole, and the subtle lines that marked the passage of time, memorizing every exquisite detail in his heart. his cold hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a chill across your skin that mingled with the warmth of his gaze, as if he were imprinting the essence of your beauty into his soul.

he draws your entwined hands closer to his chest, where his heart, in truth, has always belonged to you. from the very first moment you met, it was never his alone; it has been yours from the start. as your palm rests against his chest, you can feel the soft, steady beat of his yours heart, buried beneath his flesh—an intimate rhythm that pulses with calm and a tender, unselfish devotion.

a small smile graces your lips as you rest your chin on the couch, gazing deeply into his eyes and letting yourself be enveloped by their depth. “i’m in love with you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with intoxicated. “so in love that i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t, as if my soul has adored you since the dawn of everything,” you listen to his heartfelt confession, witnessing the gradual collapse of his defenses, and your eyes shimmer, heart-shaped.

gojo chuckled softly, his voice thick with intoxication. “do you recall the first and last time we made love? your lips on my neck, since that day, your mouth has been nothing but heaven,” his words tumbled out in a drowsy, slurred cadence.

you, too, remember that day with crystal clarity; it is etched deeply in your mind, an indelible memory that clings to your thoughts like a cherished, haunting presence. each detail, every sensation, has become a permanent part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. the memory of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss linger, a profound and enduring echo that remains with you always.

you still can feel his touch on your skin.

“of course you don’t know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of intoxication, as his thumb traced gentle patterns across your cheek. “and i’ll gladly take the blame for that,” he continued, his words slurred with inebriation, “i-i kissed your hair while you slept in the morning,” his giggle, light and childlike, bubbled up with a carefree delight. “i wonder if you ever knew.”

you shake your head gently, a small, small smile touching your lips, just a little. you wouldn't dare to open your mouth, oh, you wouldn't dare. to speak would risk breaking the spell of his drunken state, causing him to sober up and retract the love he has so freely and vulnerably shared. the thought of him withdrawing those tender confessions and retreating into the safety of his guarded heart is a fear too profound to bear. because at that time, it's all you have, his drunkenly confession.

so you remain silent, savoring the warmth of his affection as it envelops you, clinging to this fleeting intimacy as if it were a precious secret. afraid that when the dawn’s approach looms, threatening to sweep away the ephemeral beauty of his heartfelt revelations, leaving only the ghost of his love behind.

it's a frightening, haunting, spine-chilling sensation that grips you, filling you with an aching dread, so you remain silent. because maybe, in those three am confessions are your only salvation. just like a dark mirror to cinderella’s tale, your reality is sinking down from the ceiling, swallowing you whole when he sobers up when the sun hits your cheeks warm.

“oh, god, i love you so much. . .” he whispered, his voice laden with vulnerability as he clutched your hand tightly, pressing it against his chest. “this love i feel—it terrifies me. i'm scared for the love i have for you, it seems so powerful, like it could burn me alive or utterly ruin me. even so, i know that i’ll let it be, but fuck. . . i'm so scared.” his breath was uneven and strained, each gasp revealing the depth of his fear.

his eyes, gleaming with the weight of his emotions, flickered with a poignant brilliance before finally closing. as he drifted into unconsciousness, the full embrace of the alcohol took hold, and the tender confessions of his heart were swallowed by the enveloping darkness.

you remain in quiet contemplation, letting his heartfelt words gently seep into your thoughts. you extend your arm along the edge of the couch, laying your cheek softly against it as you gaze at gojo’s tranquil, slumbering face. his lips, tender and slightly swollen, and his cheeks, flushed a soft, rosy hue reminiscent of crushed cherries from the effects of the alcohol, form a serene portrait of vulnerability.

in the gentle light, his features are softened by the peacefulness of sleep, creating a stark contrast to the emotional intensity of his earlier confessions. the calmness of his face, so vulnerable and exposed in repose, contrasts beautifully with the passionate turmoil of his words.

as you watch him, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping you both in a tender silence that honors the depth of the moment. the delicate interplay of light and shadow highlights the serene beauty of his sleep, allowing you to cherish the profound intimacy of this quiet, shared space.

when the morning comes, he'll sober up, and the alcohol will have faded from his system, washed away by the sunlight along with his love for you. he'll blame the alcohol in case he said anything foolish, and you? oh, you would find yourself blaming the moon, even the sun, because it's breath away the day for night to come, for casting hope into your soul, into your heart, and also crushing it at the same time in the harsh light of dawn. leaving you to grapple with the fragile hope that was both a blessing and a burden.

it was cruel, worse than cannibalism. you could have borne the agony of having your flesh consumed, but not the ravaging of your soul and heart, oh please, not my heart’ you would plead into the darkness as night falls. you were scared too, not because of loving gojo satoru, loving him is as natural as breathing, but because of the depth of your devotion— you are scared your devotion would turn violent. your devotion would make you believe him like a god, and he'll betray you like a man.

yet, despite the pain, you find yourself eternally awaiting the arrival of night, longing for those confessions whispered at 3:00 AM, even knowing they will leave you shattered by morning’s light. each dawn brings the same heartache, and today is no different.

you awaken to the insistent chime of your notification, your eyes fluttering open to the stark emptiness of your apartment. the couch where gojo once lay is now vacant, the space where he slept cold and unwelcoming. the blanket he used before now wrapped around you, carries no trace of his warmth. the comfort it once offered has dissipated, leaving behind only a hollow chill and the echo of his absence.

your grip tightens on your phone, the pressure biting into your hands, but it’s a mere shadow of the pain coursing through your heart. suddenly, the dam within you gives way, and a torrent of tears spills down your cheeks, cascading like a relentless river. the exhaustion of navigating gojo’s endless emotional games weighs heavily upon you, a suffocating burden that leaves you breathless.

you don't want anything, the only thing you want can't be bought with money. if i ask for your heart will you give it to me?’ you mock yourself. what a fucking loser.

“oh god. . .” you whisper, forehead touching the floor as you wailing in silence.

you feel foolish for clinging to the hope that, perhaps this time, he might remember, that he might repeat the tender words of the night before. yet, as each morning dawns with the same emptiness, your heart aches with the weary realization that your hopes have been in vain, leaving you to grapple with the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams.

the evening was settling into a serene quiet, your apartment softly illuminated by the warm glow of your lights. you were almost ready for your date, anticipation mingling with a sense of hope as you made final adjustments to your outfit. watching yourself in the mirror, you realize how dull your eyes are, losing their spark. after everything, you decided to bury your feelings beneath your flesh until only you know your love for gojo satoru.

a knock at the door disrupted your preparations, and when you opened it, gojo stood there, sober and uncharacteristically subdued. his eyes, usually brimming with playful energy, now reflected a deep, almost mournful sadness.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer just like always. he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the subtle details of your evening preparations—the carefully chosen attire, the delicate scent of perfume, and your eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes.

you moved through your bedroom, selecting accessories and adjusting your outfit, each motion a quiet ritual in the evening’s anticipation. gojo watched from the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a deep, almost reverent intensity. his silence spoke volumes, a contrast to the usual banter that characterized your interactions.

gojo’s voice, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability, broke the silence. “where are you going?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and hurt.

you hesitated, caught between the desire to protect both his feelings and the truth. his gaze, usually so playful and intense, now bore a raw, wounded quality. the gravity of the question hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the weight of the decision you had to make.

“i’m—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. you could see the hope flickering in his eyes, mingled with the pain of realization. you knew that this was more than just a casual question; it was a plea for understanding, for clarity amid his confusion.

he took a step closer, his usual nonchalance replaced by a genuine yearning to grasp the reality of the situation. “i just want to know,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “where you’re going. what’s tonight for you?”

you looked at him, your heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears. the room felt charged with the intensity of the moment, every detail amplified by the quiet desperation in his voice.

“i’m going out with someone,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “tonight is… it’s meant for someone else.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. gojo’s face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as he took in the truth of your plans. he nodded slowly, the understanding settling over him with a heavy sadness.

“i see,” he said quietly, a bitter edge to his tone as he took a step back, giving you space. “i didn’t realize…” the finality of his words and the desolate look on his face were almost too much to bear.

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but before you could answer, his gaze wandered over you with a mixture of admiration and sadness. “you look…” he started, his voice faltering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “you look really beautiful tonight.”

his eyes roamed over your outfit, the careful details you had chosen, and the way the light caught in your hair. there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of more than just physical appreciation— it was as though he was trying to hold onto every fleeting moment, every detail of this evening as if to etch it into his memory.

“you always look beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “but tonight. . .. tonight it’s different. you’re. . . breathtaking.” the sincerity in his words was palpable, mingling with the unspoken sadness in his eyes. he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the moment. instead, he stood there, quietly observing, letting his admiration and affection fill the space between you.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving you. “i just wanted to see you one more time. before you go.”

the room felt heavy with the weight of his gaze, the emotional intensity of his words. you could feel the ache in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and longing, as he took in every detail of your appearance. the compliment, so genuine and heartfelt, seemed to hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the affection he still held for you.

“it's okay,” you nodded softly, gazing at him from your mirror with a little smile, kissing your lips. the date was meant to be an escape, a chance to move forward, but it felt like an endurance exercise.

your date was polite and engaged in conversation, but there was an undeniable disconnect. every word spoken seemed to drift past you, a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts that consumed your mind. the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the casual chatter all felt hollow, lacking the vibrancy you had hoped for.

as the evening progressed, the sparkle of the city lights and the charm of the venue did little to lift the weight on your shoulders. the conversations felt superficial, the moments fleeting and unremarkable. you smiled and nodded in response, but your thoughts were miles away, tangled in the memories and the lingering presence of gojo.

you couldn’t help but replay the images of that earlier moment—gojo’s earnest eyes, the softness of his compliments, and the way his gaze had followed you with such unspoken longing. his presence had imprinted on your heart so deeply that everything else seemed to fade in comparison. the way he had watched you, the tenderness in his voice, and the painful silence after he had left all resurfaced in your mind, casting a shadow over every interaction of the evening.

the date dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. you forced yourself to remain engaged, but the thought of gojo’s unspoken words and the gentle way he had looked at you overshadowed everything. you were caught in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to escape the grip of your own emotions.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the evening. your mind was still heavy with the weight of the date's emptiness, and the city lights seemed dimmer as you walked towards your car.

just outside, by the entrance of the restaurant, you noticed a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. gojo stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the crowd with a determined focus. as your gaze met his, his face softened, revealing a mix of relief and something deeper.

there you are, beautiful, mellow you. walking alone looking pretty in that silk dress that you should be wearing for him, not the other man, him. seeing you so breathtakingly beautiful makes gojo satoru want to crash into every piece of you, and fuck, he swears to god, that's how stars are born.

“hey,” he said softly, pushing himself off the lamppost and walking towards you. the usually playful tone in his voice was replaced by a sincere warmth. “i thought i might catch you before you left.” you stopped in your tracks, a flutter of surprise and emotion rising within you. “satoru, what are you doing here?”

you're in front of him, eyes glimmering under the lamppost and the moon. gojo wants to run, to bury himself under the ground, or just tell you to stop looking at him with those eyes. stop touching me with your eyes’ he thought.

“i-i. . .”

even so, his eyes never leave yours, shaken as he tries to swim into your orbs. how its color slightly changes under the lamppost makes it even harder for gojo to speak as if the ground is a new language for him, and suddenly, he forgets everything he knows about gravity.

“please love me. .” he whispered, throat dry.

for a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes widened in astonishment. your heart is pounded with a frantic rhythm, faster than the fall of distant stars, yearning to escape its confines and find its way into gojo’s hands. it ached with a longing so intense that it felt almost unbearable.

the pain of desiring something so profoundly—something you’ve never truly known—made you question why your heart should yearn for a home it has never experienced. yet, despite never having been there, it cried out with an ineffable need to be held by him.

it was always his and never been yours since day one, but he already holds onto your soul with an unrelenting grip and your heart— your only refuge, is all you ever had to keep living. you can't live your life if all you ever had is just merely flesh and bone.

“satoru, are you drunk?”

“no—” he shook his head, fast enough to hold both your hands and bring them closer against his chest, where his heart was beating faster, also begging to be handed to you. “i'm in love with you, y/n. i'm sorry i always pretend like i don't remember in the morning, but please. . . i don't dare to, maybe if i love you less it would be easier for me to talk, but fuck—”

he paused for a moment, and in that suspended breath, your only fear was the possibility of him retracting his heartfelt confession. the weight of his unspoken words hung in the air, and you found yourself dreading the loss of such a precious revelation. the thought of him pulling back, of his feelings fading into silence, was the only shadow that cast fear over your heart.

so you shook your head, “no, don't stop,” you plea.

gojo swallows his pride, he feels pathetic. but he would bear the life long of feeling pathetic if it is meant to have your eyes on him, to have your skins and bones knit with his then so be it. “i love you—oh god, i fucking love you, in the purest, chaste, most victorian sense,” he says, laughing softly. “even a mere glimpse of your ankle might be enough to drive me mad.” you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

his hands enveloped yours with a desperate intensity, holding them as if they were the very essence of his longing. “i love you,” he breathed softly, his voice mingling with the whisper of the night breeze. “i want every single one of your tomorrows.”

he guided your hands closer to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your wrist, his touch both tender and reverent. his eyes locked with yours, revealing a depth of emotion that seemed to illuminate the darkness around you. the moment his lips left your skin, the faintest trace of coldness lingered, as if the warmth of his affection had left an indelible mark.

with a gentle but purposeful motion, his hands slid to your waist, drawing you nearer. his touch was both firm and delicate as he turned you around, guiding you until your back was nearly pressed against the lamppost. the soft glow of the streetlight bathed you both in a halo of light, casting long shadows and highlighting the closeness of your bodies.

in this intimate cocoon, the world seemed to fade away. the chill of the night, the warmth of his breath, and the quiet intensity of his gaze created a fragile moment of connection. his presence enveloped you, a promise whispered in the night air, as if he were claiming every future moment with you, even as the night deepened around you.

“please. . ..” he beg.

he leaned in, his face inches from yours, until his lips lightly brushed against your own. “please, love me,” he whispered once more, his voice tender and pleading. his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

the proximity of his lips, the softness of his words, and the gentle warmth of his breath all combined to create a moment of intimate vulnerability. his plea hung in the air, laden with the depth of his emotions, as he sought to bridge the gap between your hearts.

as the world around you seemed to slow, gojo’s gaze lingered on your lips with an intensity that made your heart race. his fingers, still resting on your waist, drew you even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. the soft glow of the streetlight cast a gentle halo around the two of you, accentuating the intimacy of the moment.

with a deliberate tenderness, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation built like a quiet storm as his lips inched closer, brushing against yours with a delicate, almost reverent touch. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of deep longing and unspoken desires.

his lips moved with a slow, deliberate grace as if savoring every second of the connection. the initial softness gave way to a deeper intensity, his kiss growing more passionate as he pulled you even closer. the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his lips pressed firmly against yours. his hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet insistent, guiding the kiss with a blend of affection and need.

the warmth of his kiss seemed to infuse every part of you, a melding of hearts and souls that transcended words. when he finally pulled away, his eyes still locked onto yours, there was a look of profound contentment and vulnerability. the kiss lingered in the air between you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the fragile, beautiful connection that bound you together.

as you slowly pull away from the kiss, your lips linger near his, you meet his gaze with a fierce resolve. “if you ever mock me or play with me,” you say, your voice steady yet charged with intensity, “i swear to god, satoru, i’ll fucking hunt you down.” the words hang between you, your breath mingling with his, a silent promise of the depth of your commitment.

gojo’s eyes spark with a playful glint as he hears your words. with a mischievous smile, he leans in, giving your lips a series of soft, teasing pecks. “i won’t,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity. “i promise.” his playful demeanor contrasts with the intensity of your threat, yet his gentle touches and warm gaze convey a deeper assurance.

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peachesofteal · 7 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/peachesofteal/749034526975672320/ghoap-x-female-reader-18-everything-was-fine?source=share

OH PEACHES. TELL ME THIS WASNT A ONE OFF. PLEASE. OH GOD.

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ / part one

It turns out, you're not that cool.

Your lungs scream on the walk home, arms wrapped around your chest, rushing away from the hotel and it's fancy restaurant and the boys-

-oh god were they staying there? With her? Did they get a suite for the night, something nice, something fancy? Will they order room service? Did they pick up the check? Did they have after dinner drinks? Will they call her sweet girl, and sweetheart, and bend her over the bed?

Your stomach revolts, turbulent with your half eaten meal, red wine burning your esophagus, fire flaring from your heart to where your eyes blur with tears.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck-

Your name rings out like a gunshot. Shattering the silence, bouncing off walls of the buildings that flank you.

Still, you don't stop. You can't.

"Wait." Footsteps thud behind you, and you know there's no hope. There's no chance you'll outrun him, or out maneuver him, or shake him off. He's Simon. "Wait." He says again, and this time, fingers close around your elbow, gently tugging you to a halt.

You keep your eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

"Sweetheart, we-"

"It's fine." You're quick with it, the cool girl response rolling off your tongue naturally, shrugging out of his hold. "I'm fine." His eyes narrow.

"Let me expl-"

"There's no need." Your arms cross over your chest. A shield for your heart, maybe. "I know the deal."

"The deal." He echoes, words flat. "Sure you do." What's that supposed to mean? You sniff.

"I'm not your girlfriend, you two can do what you want. Right?" He nods, but there's something off about him, something unsettled.

"That's right."

"So... enjoy her, I guess." He steps into your space, immediately. Crowds you, blocks you in, and dips his head to catch your eyes. He turns from endearing to severe, thunderstorm roaring across his face, fingers closing over your shoulder.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yeah." Why not you? Why aren't you good enough to be taken out to dinner, to be seen with Johnny holding you at the waist? He frowns, and then delivers a sucker punch that drops your jaw wide.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

#peaches writes #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley

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joelscruff · 9 months ago

Text

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TEN

masterlist | kofi | notifs | *spongebob narrator voice* 4 months later. well, i'm not gonna bore you all with excuses, god knows most of you have heard what's been goin' on with me at this point lmao. but yall have been so patient and lovely and i really really appreciate it. i hope you enjoy this chapter; it's a little bit of bliss before things get... interesting. there's still more to come (about four chapters or so) and i'll try to update much sooner next time but please remember i'm only one person & i write this for fun (and for free) in my spare time!!! ik it can be frustrating when there are long periods between updates but i'm trying my best, please know that. k love u bye 💕 chapter summary: you & joel enjoy your little weekend getaway, far from the prying eyes and ears of your parents. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex, creampies, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink (joel has a big dick), tummy bulge, deepthroating (or...attempted deepthroating), cum swallowing, fingering, pussy kisses, ridiculous amounts of fluff, namedropping one of my fav songs of all time because i can, the tiniest mention of sexual assault (aka noah) word count: 12.9k ao3

You think you might finally understand what it means to experience happiness.

Not the feelings you've faked for most of your life, not the plastered-on smiles and faux giggles, autopilot prayers and forced gratitude. No - real happiness. That tingling sensation of nothing but pure bliss, safety, love, and peace, something that's felt far out of your reach for most of your life. It swells in your chest, makes a home in your heart as you nuzzle into fluffy pillows, warm bedsheets, and feel yourself drift in and out of consciousness, completely and utterly relaxed. Happy, you can't help but think to yourself, I'm so happy.

You're aware of Joel's presence, fading in and out here and there as he wipes a damp cloth between your legs, across your stomach, down your thighs - taking care of you, making sure you're comfortable. Afterward he cuddles in behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, buries his face in the back of your neck and inhales deeply; you wonder if he's feeling the exact same way you are right now - god, you hope he is.

"That felt so good," you murmur to him softly, eyes still closed, "Felt so good, Joel."

He kisses your neck, holds you tighter in his embrace, "I know, babygirl."

"Can still feel you inside me," you breathe, "It's like you're still there."

He chuckles softly, "Not to burst your bubble but that's probably cum. Couldn't get all of it with the cloth." The words that should be dirty - should seem shameful - do nothing but send a warm tingle down your spine, a sleepy smile to your face. You know he's right - you can still feel something warm deep inside you, a slow trickle making its way to your opening, but there's something else. You're still pulsing every so often around the phantom of a shape, an echo of what was still there only a few moments ago.

"It's not just that," you shuffle in the sheets, nuzzling your face further into the pillow, "it's like... like you're still in there, spreading me open."

He groans and his grip around you tightens, fingertips pressing into the malleable softness of your belly. He leans down to press a small kiss to your ear, "Can't just say stuff like that, angel. Gonna get me hard again." You shiver.

"Good," you whisper, "'Cause I want you to do it again."

His legs tangle with yours under the sheets as he pulls you in, scruff nuzzling against the bare skin of your shoulder, "We'll wait a little bit," he murmurs, "You're gonna start feelin' a little sore soon, if you don't already."

"I don't," you breathe, and you mean it. "Doesn't hurt at all, really. It... it didn't hurt. I always thought it would hurt."

You can almost feel his frown against your skin, "S'not supposed to hurt," he murmurs, "Woulda stopped if you'd been in any pain."

You smile, "I know you would've."

He hums into your hair, strokes his hand down along your arm, "S'good," he mumbles, and you're suddenly aware of the heaviness in his voice, the way his lips wrap lazily around the words.

"Are you sleepy?" you ask softly.

"Yeah, baby," he breathes, "M'sleepy."

You smile at the adorable admission, then lean back into his embrace and settle in. The sun is starting to go down, casting the room in long orange and blue shadows, warm and comforting. Your eyes close again and you focus on that blissful feeling, on the weight of Joel's naked body behind you holding you close, the sound of his breathing, his smell. On the fact that you've never felt more safe in your entire life.

"I'm so glad it was you," you whisper, and you don't mind if he's already fallen asleep.

You're not sure how long you both nap, but you wake up soon after to a completely dark hotel room, save for the flickering lights from the traffic below and the warm glow of the buildings outside the window. Your eyes flutter for a few seconds as your brain reconnects you to the present, and you're suddenly very aware of a dull ache in your groin, an unpleasant throb that hadn't been there earlier.

"Ow," you mumble incoherently, reaching blindly for the blankets and pulling them back to peer down at yourself, but the room is so dark that it's difficult to see anything properly, "Ow."

"S'wrong?" you hear Joel mumble beside you, stirring from his own slumber.

You wince in embarrassment, shaking your head, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."

"Y'said 'ow'," you feel him sit up and reach over to turn on the lamp, "You okay?"

As soon as the lamplight floods the room your eyes cast downward, half expecting to see some medical emergency, some horrific reason for the vacation to end early, to ruin everything before it's barely even started - but thankfully it's none of those things. You're just a little swollen - puffier than usual - and aching, but not in a good way. You bring your hand down and cup yourself gently, hissing a bit when your fingers brush against your opening; it feels almost like a bruise.

"Oh, honey," Joel murmurs, and you turn your head to see his brows furrowing in concern, "Y'sore?"

You wince, biting your lip, "Um, a little."

He frowns and pulls his own side of the blankets back, and you can't help the warmth that floods your cheeks when you see his exposed body; the dark hair wisping across his tan skin, his soft belly and strong thighs - and his cock, soft and heavy and impossible not to look at. You've seen him naked several times at this point but every time still somehow feels like the first, like it's brand new. You watch as he crawls downward and gently places his hand on top of yours.

"Lemme see," he murmurs softly, and you allow him to pull your hand back, exposing your sore pussy to him. His brow furrows, "Aw baby, you're all swollen."

"Is that normal?"

He nods, eyes still trailing up and down, "It's normal," he assures you, "It's probably worse 'cause - well," he smiles sheepishly, peering up at you.

"'Cause you're so big," you finish for him, your own lips turning up into a smirk, and he chuckles.

"Yeah, that." You watch as he brings his hands down and very carefully thumbs your outer lips, pulls them apart to assess what's inside. He groans, and you're about to ask what's wrong when you see a thin stream of his cum dribble out onto the sheets below.

"Fuck," you both whisper at the same time, and when your eyes meet you can see that his are suddenly dark, glassy. You feel yourself begin to throb beneath his touch.

"Still full o'me," he murmurs, eyes trailing back down to where you're dripping, "Messy girl."

Your own eyes go hooded as you watch him lean down and press a small kiss to your clit; your hips buck up, a whimper slipping past your lips as his whiskers prickle deliciously against your sensitive skin. He smiles against you, kisses your clit again and darts his tongue out to taste, just for a moment. You whine.

"I know what you need, babygirl" he whispers, nosing your mound and closing his eyes, "I know what'll help."

Your mind races with possibilities. "Wh-what?"

He suddenly pulls back, crooked smile lighting up his beautiful face, "A bath. It'll help with the soreness." Oh. He presses another kiss to your clit, "If I can bring myself to stop kissin' this perfect pussy."

You giggle softly and he opens his eyes to look up at you again, smiling tenderly. He reluctantly pulls himself off you and climbs off the bed, reaching down to grab his discarded underwear from the floor. "I'll start runnin' the water," he tells you softly, pulling them on and taking a step forward to brush your hair out of your face, "You just relax, sweet girl. Don't move a muscle."

The bath is warm and inviting, lit candles lining the counter and floor and dousing the room in a warm glow; it's hard to believe only a few hours earlier you were on the verge of a panic attack on these very tiles. Now you lean back against the cool rim of the claw foot tub, eyes closed as you submerge yourself in the hot water. There's no panic or anxiety in your body anymore, just warmth and comfort and the welcome ache in your groin, the smell of vanilla in your nose.

"Good temp?" Joel asks softly nearby, and you hear his hand breach the surface of the water, testing the heat. You smile.

"Perfect," you breathe, eyes still closed, "Thank you."

His hand brushes lightly against yours under the water and he squeezes it gently, then murmurs, "I'll give you some privacy."

Your eyes snap open, "No," you cradle his hand in both of yours as your brows furrow, "Stay."

A smile breaks across his face, charming and boyish as he seats himself down next to the bathtub with barely any hesitation, like he'd been hoping you'd say that. He keeps hold of your hand beneath the water and tilts his face toward yours - you press your forehead against his and breathe a long sigh of relief.

"Feelin' okay?" he murmurs, "Emotionally?"

You nod, sighing contentedly, "More than okay," you whisper, "I... I still can't believe it actually happened." Your lips twitch upward and you press a soft kiss to his cheek, closing your eyes, "Thank you."

He squeezes your hand again beneath the water before pulling out and bringing it upwards to cradle your face, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes are still a bit sleepy, hair sticking up in all directions and that beautiful smile still lighting up his face as he thumbs your cheek.

"I should be thankin' you," he breathes, "For trustin' me like that, bein' so vulnerable with me." He leans in to kiss you tenderly, but his words send a sudden flutter of insecurity through your body and you pull back to look at him again, unsure.

"Was I... was I good at it?" you ask quietly, "Did I do okay?"

"Oh, angel," he murmurs, bringing his other hand up to cup both your cheeks and brush his nose gently against yours, "You did so good. So, so, so good."

He ends up washing your hair, a small but significant gesture that makes the feelings from earlier bubble up again, the warm fondness and tenderness and love. You lean back in the tub, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of his big hands deftly applying the shampoo and conditioner, massaging it into your scalp and making your eyes roll back. It's ridiculous how even this makes you throb beneath the surface, the ache dissipating a bit in the hot water. So much so that when he caps the conditioner and rinses your hair once again, you reach up to take his hand and squeeze, eyes still shut.

"Touch me," you whisper, voice already desperate, "Please."

He doesn't need any convincing, inching toward the side of the tub and reaching inside to cup your pussy in his big hand again, softly rubbing your clit. You whimper and tremble, gripping the edge of the tub for support and whining when he speeds up, circling and rubbing it exactly how you like it.

"Poor little pussy," you hear him murmur, "Just needs some relief after gettin' fucked like that, doesn't she baby?"

"Mmhmm," you manage to hum, squeezing the sides of the tub and nodding furiously, "Y-yeah."

"Took so much cock in this little hole," he whispers, and that's enough to send you over the edge, eyes snapping open as you shake and shiver in the hot water. You see him sitting there, smiling at you with a devious glint in his eyes. He knows exactly the effect he has on you.

"What do we do now?" you ask him softly from the couch a little while later, carefully scrunching a towel in your hair and watching as he changes the bedsheets upon your request - you'd felt a bit embarrassed asking, but you'd really rather not sleep in a wet spot. He'd been more than gracious in honoring your request.

It's late, but the nap and the bath have left you feeling wide awake, and you have to admit that you're feeling a bit hungry too despite the full meal earlier. Does sex make you hungry? You file it as a question to ask Tasha.

"Whatever you wanna do, darlin'," he says with a smile, turning down the sheets and gesturing for you to join him in bed again, "C'mere."

You give your hair one last squeeze and pad over to the bed, clad in Joel's Grateful Dead shirt from earlier today. You don't care in the slightest that it's not necessarily the cleanest article of clothing to be wearing after a bath - it smells like him, feels like him. You just can't get enough of him.

Insatiable.

You both climb back into bed and he pulls you in immediately, tugging you close and wrapping his big arms around you. You lean back into him and feel yourself grinning without even really thinking about it, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of his chest moving back and forth against your back with every breath.

"Always look so pretty in my shirts, babygirl," he whispers in your ear, and it sends tingles down your spine, a rush of warmth to your heart. He kisses you gently and you listen as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your damp hair. His hand travels downward and you both watch as he cups your pussy yet again, warm and soft.

"Feelin' a little better?" he asks quietly, thumb trailing gently up and down your outer lips, "Still sore?"

"Better," you reassure him gently - and you mean it; the warm water did help to ease the ache.

He hums and continues to trace your soft lips, nosing your ear and breathing deeply again, and fuck, you could get used to this. This casual intimacy, being touched without any expectations, any fear or anxiety. Feeling safe and wanted and cared for in his embrace, no worrying about getting home early, no time limit looming. Just you and him.

I love you, you want to whisper.

Your stomach growls.

He removes his hand almost immediately. "Room service," he says with a chuckle, and your eyes snap open again as he reaches over and grabs the menu on the nightstand, placing it in front of you both, "Pick your poison."

Your eyes are drawn almost immediately to the dessert section, followed by a short wave of guilt. You're craving something sweet, but you can't help but think back to being a kid again, asking for treats and being denied, feeling as if your desires were unimportant, childish, silly.

But no, you're not that scared kid anymore. You're not. You won't be.

You bite your lip, "You know what I could really go for right now?"

"What?"

"It's silly, but-"

"It ain't silly, babygirl," he murmurs, and his big hand travels down to squeeze your thigh gently, a comforting gesture, "Whatever it is, it ain't silly."

Less than a minute later he's on the phone with room service, ordering you a hot fudge sundae.

You spend the rest of the night nestled in the warmth of your hotel bed, flicking between channels, legs tangled together beneath the sheets as you take turns scooping heaping spoons of ice cream back and forth. Your mouth and fingertips are sticky, chocolate lining your lips, dribbles of melted vanilla dolloped on your chin which Joel wastes no time in delicately lapping up with his tongue.

"God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he whispers to you, kisses you softly, darts his tongue out to taste again. You hum against his lips and try to keep your emotions at bay; he tastes like chocolate and vanilla and safety.

Waking up is different with the morning sun shining brightly through the hotel windows, but that's not the only thing that's different; you notice as your eyes flutter open that the ache in your groin is gone, replaced by a growing hunger and arousal in the pit of your stomach.

Oh, wow.

Joel's arms are around you, wrapped strong and solid, and when you turn within them and see him sleeping next to you, the hunger only grows. God, he's so handsome like this - the grey in his hair sparkling in the early light, jaw soft and lax with sleep, cheeks flushed. Almost angelic in his own way, gentle and peaceful.

Until his eyelashes begin to flutter delicately against the streams of sunlight, brow furrowing in sleepy confusion at your sudden movement; he's awake.

The desire in your belly burns.

"You look so cute," you whisper without even really thinking about it, and his eyelashes halt their fluttering to give you another look of confusion.

"Cute's not exactly a word I'd use to describe myself," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, "S'all you."

"Well, I would," you reply with a smile, watching as he closes his eyes again and nestles his face into the pillow. You reach forward to gently thumb one of the lines at the corner of his mouth, deep-set and soft beneath your touch. His eyelids twitch but he doesn't open them, "You're so soft too," you admit quietly.

"Again," he breathes, lips turning up slightly into a sleepy smile, "Not a word I'd use."

"Cute and soft," you repeat, thumb moving downward to trace the shape of his bottom lip, "And mine."

He chuckles under his breath, face smooshing a little more into the pillow, "M'yours," he murmurs, "all yours."

All yours.

You lean in even closer and inhale deeply, nose trailing up and down along his temple. Your eyes almost roll back at the scent of him, the masculine and heady aroma of his sweat alighting your senses. You're wide awake now, pussy throbbing somewhere below as you press a kiss to the apple of his cheek, tongue darting out to taste his skin.

His eyes open halfway, eyebrow raising as he sleepily watches you work your mouth up and down the side of his face, breath coming quicker and more frantic as your legs wind around him under the sheets. Obliging your desperation, his big arms tighten around you and he rolls the both of you, allowing you to settle on top of his large, warm body.

You stare down at him, hunger clear in your eyes.

"You were inside me," you whisper.

His mouth turns up at the corners, "I was."

"It felt really good."

"It did."

You lean your face down to trace your nose along his cheekbone again, eyes hooded, voice needy.

"I want you to be inside me again."

He peers up at you, sleepiness already fading from his expression as he watches yours with mirrored desire, "Yeah? You want me to be inside you right now?"

You nod, "Yes, please."

"Then turn over on your side, angel."

A little confused but certainly not opposed, you do as he says, rolling back over onto your side and resting your head softly against your pillow. You feel his hand dip downwards beneath the sheets, then his fingertips glide smoothly along your abdomen. Your heart hammers in your chest when he lifts up your - or rather, his - shirt and thumbs your tummy gently.

"Are y'still sore?" he murmurs, "How d'you feel?"

"M'wet, Joel," you whimper, grinding back against the blankets and trying to feel him, "M'really wet."

"Lemme feel," he breathes, hand trailing downward even further. His fingers dip into your soft, soaked centre and a low groan rumbles in his throat, "Oh babygirl, so wet for me."

"Put it in," you whimper, not caring how pathetic and needy you probably sound, "Please, Joel, put it in me again."

"Christ," you hear him mutter, arousal burning in his voice, "Okay baby, hold still, I'll put it in. I'll make you feel better."

Seconds later you feel the heat of his tip crowding the space at your entrance, already wet and sticky. A soft moan falls from your throat at the sensation, eyes closing as you feel Joel's hand cup your leg and pull it upwards, holding you open. He hooks it in the crook of his arm, shuffling forward a bit and pushing the head of his cock inside your heat.

"Oh, fuck," you whine, head falling backwards. You feel his nose in your hair again, feel the stretch of your pussy and the widening of your thighs as he pulls your leg up even more.

"Yeah, there you go," he murmurs, pushing inside further. He goes slow, takes his time, until he's fully sheathed inside of you and your eyes are rolling back on their own accord, quiet whimpers tumbling past your lips. "Yeah, look at you takin' that cock."

As if by muscle memory your hand reaches downwards to cup the protruding shape of him at the bottom of your tummy, a low whine in your throat. He's so big inside you, nestled perfectly within the deepest parts of your body just like he'd been last night, large and warm.

"Feels so good," you manage to gasp out, other hand clenching into a fist against your pillow, "So good, so good." It's almost a mantra, voice breathless as you squish your face against the cotton and push back almost lazily against him, his balls settling heavy and warm at the base of your ass. You can feel every twitch of his shaft, the way the tip pulses against that special spot within.

"Yeah, you like bein' full like that, don't you baby?" he murmurs, "Don't even need me to move, do you? Just like feelin' it in there, huh?"

And you almost hate how right he is, how just the sensation of being so full of him already has you on the edge of an orgasm without any stimulation. Because you want more, you want what he gave you last night, want him to fuck you even firmer, deeper, without holding back. You want it to last hours.

But you know it's too much before he even starts to move, that familiar ache in your groin returning as your walls constrict around the long shape of him. He pulls out slowly, takes his time, pushes back in at a snail's pace. You feel a tickling sensation against your clit, his pubic hair pressing deliciously against the wet skin as he fills you - and without any warning, you start to come.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you cry out into the sunlit hotel room, trembling in his arms, legs shaking. You can tell in his body language behind you that he's taken aback by your sudden release, hand suddenly dropping from your calf so he can palm your sternum and pull you against him.

"Oh, honey," he groans, simultaneously tender and aroused, "Are you comin', baby? You comin' just from bein' stuffed full like that?"

"Yes," you grit out, voice a high keen as your body shakes and your release stretches out before the both of you in quick spasms, "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Nonono, no sorries," his voice is honey in your ear, fingertips grazing your nipples as he lays his palm flat against your chest, "You're a good girl, angel. You're such a good girl."

You continue to spasm on his cock, legs quivering and pathetic whines tearing from your throat until your orgasm has passed and you're just leaning back into his embrace, eyes closed. You breathe deeply, lashes fluttering when he noses your jaw and presses a soft kiss to the space beneath.

"S'alot for you," he murmurs, "I know it's a lot, babygirl. Don't ever gotta apologize for comin' too fast, not to me."

You hum softly, still extremely aware of his girthy size stretching you out somewhere below. Your eyes open and you peer downwards, brows scrunching in wonder and pleasure when you see where you're joined, where his flesh meets yours. You really are full, the base of his cock barely visible beneath your folds, the pubic hair that had caused your early release still pressed against your outer lips.

"How does it even fit?" you ask softly, almost by accident, but he just chuckles.

"The human body is a hell of a thing," he murmurs, kissing your cheek and pulling you in even closer, shuffling you on his dick just a little bit and making you wince a bit with oversensitivity, "You want me to pull out?"

"No," you shake your head and readjust yourself in his embrace, taking a breath, "No, I want you to keep going."

"Y'sure?"

"I'm sure."

He doesn't need telling twice. Within seconds he's resumed his slow and careful thrusts, almost rhythmic in their presses and pulls, filling you and emptying you in melodic succession. You reach down and take his big hand in yours, squeeze his fingers and let him fuck you like he had last night - tender, soft, comfortable. It almost doesn't feel real; how are you in a hotel room in another city, wrapped up in bed with a man three times your age, his cock buried to the hilt inside your body while you whimper and twitch in his arms? How did you get here?

"Y'know, women are a bit different than men in the orgasm department," Joel says gently behind you, stroking your hand with his thumb, "You might be able to come again if we try."

Your eyebrows go up, "Really?"

"Mmhmm," his hand slips from yours and he reaches it downward to carefully prod one of his fingers against your sensitive clit. You buck in his arms but don't protest, watching as he temporarily halts his slow thrusts to rub you softly. Your eyes go hooded, body melting like jelly in his arms as his his thick fingers slowly begin to work against the already swollen bud.

"Feel good?" he whispers.

"Yes."

He continues his careful circling, presses a kiss to your shoulder and resumes fucking into you. The sounds are pornographic in nature, surrounding your senses and filling the room with the low slap of his hips against your ass and the wet squelch of your juices dripping down his palm. But it somehow doesn't feel dirty or shameful - in fact, it's hard to imagine anything that feels more right than this.

"Joel," you breathe shakily, face twisting against the pillow again, heart pounding.

"I know, feels good doesn't it, babygirl?" he noses your skin and breathes you in, hooks your leg under his arm a bit more and groans softly, "God, you're so fuckin' tight. Such a tight fuckin' pussy."

It's your pussy, you want to breathe, it's yours. I'm yours. But you can barely get any words out as his thrusts pick up speed, as the sounds get louder and his fingers against your clit become firmer in their movements. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge again, the fire in your belly burning hotter than ever as you let him crowd your space as much as possible, let his body push yours further and further until your eyes are rolling back and all you can feel is the steady thrust of his big cock and the girth of his fingers against your pussy.

"I'm coming," you moan out weakly, "M'coming again, Joel."

You don't hear what he says in response, ears muffled as if you're underwater, pleasure spreading throughout your body and hitting you at full force like a hurricane as he fucks you through it. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, high pitched and almost feral as his hips slap against yours a few more times. And then you feel it, the hot pulses of his cum painting your insides, filling you up as his cock spasms and twitches deep inside.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, voice thick with pleasure and sleep as he buries his face in your hair, hips stuttering, "Fuck. Take it, there you go."

Yeah, you could get used to this.

You'd been pretty sure you wouldn't leave the hotel room this weekend, just like you'd told him a few days prior. The thought of staying wrapped up in bedsheets, warm bodies pressed up against each other, sharing soft kisses and quiet whispers and tender looks...it'd be more than enough for an enjoyable getaway.

But it's hot, way hotter than you'd anticipated before arriving - and the pool is calling your name.

Or maybe something else is calling your name.

You stand in the bathroom and stare at your bikini clad form, a smile curving your lips as you assess the thin straps and baby pink frills. To think you'd tried to return this to Joel, briefly refused to wear it. Now you're about to don it in front of a hotel pool full of people like a normal woman, like someone without shame, without guilt, without a mother who'd skin her alive if she saw her wearing it.

Your smile falters.

You'd texted your mother after getting out of bed, apologized once again for missing her calls last night and told her you had a "busy" day at the festival ahead of you, that you'd let her know when you leave tomorrow. All she'd said in response was Ok.

You'd climbed back into bed defeatedly, finding a home against Joel's naked form, "She's mad at me," you'd murmured softly against his bare chest, squished into his side with his heartbeat thrumming in your ear.

"Don't think about her right now," he'd whispered, carding his fingers gently through your hair, "Think about this. How this feels."

He'd peered at you so softly, so full of warmth and affection. Those three words had been on the tip of your tongue again, so close to tumbling past your swollen lips - but you'd held it in.

It hadn't stopped you from texting Tasha though:

we had sex and i love him.

UM!! UMMM!!!! DETAILS????

monday!!! i'll call you

🫡 ok slut just leave me hangin i see how it is. AT LEAST TELL ME HE LIKED THE LINGERIE.

oh he liked it :)

queen shit

"Hi, pretty girl," Joel's voice says suddenly, and you're snapped from your reflection in the mirror to find him leaning against the doorway, clad in a pair of swim trunks and a Bob Dylan t-shirt, "Look at you."

You pose a little bit, hand on your hip, "Think the pool boys will like it?"

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, "I don't doubt it, but they might have some competition." He holds out his hand for you and you take it, stepping forward to let him pull you in close.

"They couldn't hold a candle to you," you whisper honestly, and he kisses your forehead with a smile, thumbing the corner of your mouth.

"Wait 'til you see my breaststroke, that'll really get you goin'."

You snort and slap his arm playfully, "Lead the way, pool boy."

Joel may have just been teasing about his swimming ability, but he certainly hadn't been wrong about it getting you going. You watch from the comfort of a lounge chair as he whips back and forth across the broad expanse of the hotel pool like a bullet, kicking off from end to end without much effort at all. His arms are strong and lean, body fast and nimble as the water splashes around his broad form. Every so often his face peeks up from the water and you catch a glimpse of his drenched scruff, the way the greying locks of his hair curl down his forehead into his eyes. God, he's fucking gorgeous.

You're laid out in your bikini just watching, letting him expel some energy before you join him. He'd told you he likes swimming but doesn't get to do it as much as he'd like, what with his work responsibilities. You wonder if he'd ever want to swim in your parent's pool...

You shake the thought away as soon as you think of it. There's no feasible way that could work, no option that wouldn't involve an obscene amount of risk. But still... the thought of watching him from the comfort of your own backyard, just completely alone without any bystanders or hotel guests...

"You gonna join me or what?" Joel suddenly calls from the water, and you blink the thoughts away and throw him a grin. He wades near the shallow end, arms coming up to lean against the concrete edge as he peers at you. "Don't keep me waitin', baby."

You feel your cheeks warm, unable to help but glance back and forth to see if anyone is watching, listening. Everyone else seems to be minding their own business, lost in their own conversations, their own fun. Nobody cares that you're here with him. Nobody cares what you're wearing.

Slipping from the lounge chair, you totter over to the edge where Joel resides and slowly sink down onto the concrete, kicking your legs over the side to seat yourself in front of him.

"God, these legs," he almost groans, immediately taking one in his hands and massaging your calf, your knee, your thigh, "Look at you."

"Stop acting like you haven't seen me naked," you tease, though you still feel a bit shy underneath his gaze as he moves his attention to your other leg.

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop admirin' this body," he seems lost in his own movements as he caresses the space behind your knee, "You're so god damn beautiful." His hands suddenly wrap around your waist and without much warning he's carefully pulling you down into the water, moving you in close. On instinct your arms come up to wrap around his neck.

"How the hell am I here with you right now, huh?" he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose gently against yours, "How're you even real?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you reply a little breathlessly, "I've been asking myself that since we got here."

He slowly turns your bodies in the water, peering down into your eyes like you're the only people here - and you might as well be. You're unable to stop yourself from leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, from letting your tongue dart out to gently explore his mouth; he tastes like toothpaste and chlorine.

"Y'gonna swim with me?" he asks after you've pulled away, pupils blown a bit wider, "Gonna put that little swimsuit to good use?"

"I think I'm putting it to good use right now," you breathe, inching closer so your breasts are pushing against his chest. You're genuinely surprising yourself at your own boldness, especially in such a crowded place - it's almost like you're a different person here, the person you're supposed to be, confidence coursing through your veins. You stand on your tiptoes beneath the water, bringing one of your legs up to wind around his waist.

"Hmm," he hums, and his face is still dripping with water, the wrinkles in his skin peppered with little droplets that make you crazy, "You do have a point there, darlin'."

You lean in again to kiss him, feel a burst of pride in your chest when you see the sudden hunger and arousal in his expression. Just before your lips touch however, you pull back from him and throw yourself into the water, turning back to toss him a cheeky grin.

"Gotta catch me first," you giggle, then speed off in the opposite direction, leaving him standing there with a look of surprise etched on his face - followed quickly by a look of determination.

"Oh, I will," he practically growls, diving into the water in the same manner and reaching out to grab your ankle.

Time passes quickly in the pool, Joel chasing you back and forth, catching you time and time again until you're a giggling mess with tears streaming down your face and his fingers pinching your sides. You can't remember the last time you had this much fun, felt so free and light. You suppose your night out with Tasha had been a fun experience for the most part, until you remember the vague feeling of an unfamiliar body pressed against you from behind and the smell of alcohol crowding your senses on the dance floor.

No, don't think about that.

Before long you've exhausted yourselves, settled back near the edge of the pool where you started and just softly talking to each other. His big hands are all over you beneath the water, palms wide on your bare hips and tummy, caressing your thighs and your back, touching everywhere he can reach. You feel almost lightheaded with desire, eyes hooded as you peer up at him and tighten your arms around his neck, pull him closer and silently beg for more. You can feel the shape of his hardening cock through his swim trunks, pressed wet and heavy against your thigh. It makes you salivate.

You suddenly hook your chin into his shoulder, bury your face in his neck and whisper, "I wanna suck it, Joel."

"Yeah?" he murmurs, hands exploring your back and holding you tighter against him, letting you rut softly against his bulge, "You wanna go back to the room and suck on it, babygirl?"

You nod ferociously against him, "Yes. Please."

It doesn't take long at all for you both to be out of the pool and making your way back over to the chairs to grab your towels. It's frantic the way you rush to dry off, slipping back into your flip flops and shaking the water from your hair as quickly as possible. Joel follows suit, ruffling his own towel through his hair and making your body burn with need, lost in how sexy he looks with water droplets cascading down his large and strong form, dipping down his sternum and into his belly button. All you can think while you look at him is how badly you want to lick, to taste.

You're making your way back toward the entrance together when a woman runs up behind you, calling out, "Wait, hang on!" You both turn, confusion in your expressions as she reaches you and holds out something in her hand - your phone.

"I think you or your dad left this behind, sweetie," she says with a smile and places it in your grasp, "Gotta be careful!"

"Th-thank you," you manage to stutter out, eyes wide as she nods and turns away from you to head back toward the pool.

You stand there dumbstruck for a moment, thoughts muddled.

You or your dad.

Your dad.

You turn to Joel then. He's looking at you with what you can only describe as apprehension, lips downturned into a frown as he stands and waits for you to say something - anything. You stare back, words failing you.

And then you burst out laughing.

His apprehension turns into a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs along with you and squeezes your hand in his tightly - as if to say, this isn't wrong, what we have isn't wrong and you know that. And you do, which is why he has to practically drag you back inside the hotel as you double over and heave out laugh after laugh, tears in your eyes.

"Silly girl," you hear him mumble under his breath fondly as he leads you to the elevator, and all you can do is keep giggling.

"I love your cock."

Your knees dig into the plush rug of the hotel room, ass sitting atop the balls of your feet as you kneel between Joel's wide legs. He's sitting comfortably on the couch, one hand resting to the side while the other strokes circles into the apple of your cheek. His cock is out of his swim trunks, heavy and hard in your palm as you slowly stroke him up and down, up and down, heart pounding in your chest.

You've done this to him before, you remind yourself, and he said it was good.

But not like this, another part of you argues, not properly.

"Yeah, you love it?" he murmurs, breaking you out of your thoughts. With his words his hand drops from your face and joins yours on his shaft, helps direct it toward your cheek so he can press the tip ever so gently against it, "What d'you love about it, baby? Tell me. Wanna know."

"It's so big, Joel," you practically whimper, brows furrowing together at the sensation of his warm stickiness on your face, "So big and so thick and long."

"I know, baby," he coos softly, smearing it along your jaw in a way that has goosebumps rising all over your flesh, "Bigger than your pretty face, huh?" At his words he delicately lays the length of his cock against your face from base to tip, lets it rest there as you close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. You're so fucking turned on.

"Big," you repeat, as if no other words can find their way to your brain, as if your brain doesn't even exist; all that exists is this. The feeling of his warm dick laying heavy across your face, precum leaking out onto your forehead.

"And what's it taste like, babygirl?" He's suddenly moving it downward, towards your mouth, and you happily lean forward to lap at the tip. It pulses against you, leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. "Tell me what it tastes like."

"Kinda salty," you whisper, peering up at him with big eyes, "But good, it still tastes good to me." Your nose scrunches and you peer up at him sheepishly, "Tasha said it's not supposed to."

He laughs breathlessly, taps the tip against your bottom lip, and when more precum dribbles out you allow it to drip into your mouth. You swallow, eyes never leaving his, then swirl your tongue all around the head before slowly taking it into your mouth and suctioning carefully.

"God, you make me fuckin' crazy," his voice rumbles in his chest, eyes hooded, "Look at you suckin' on my cock." After a few seconds he pulls it out and taps your lips with it again, hissing a bit through his teeth, "Fuck, this mouth. And those eyes," his head leans back against the couch and he groans, low and deep, "You gotta stop lookin' at me like that, angel. M'not gonna last."

"How am I looking at you?" you ask shyly, a smile playing at your lips.

"Like... you're just so new to everything."

"But I am," you say with a breathless giggle, "It is new to me."

He smiles fondly down at you on your knees in front of him, so vulnerable, "I know," he tells you, "It makes me want you so bad."

"You have me," you whisper, leaning forward to mouth at the head of his cock once again, "M'yours, Joel."

His lids go heavy as you suckle gently on the tip again, reveling in the masculine taste of him and the way you can feel his heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. You suck it the same way you did last time - like a sucker or a popsicle - and you hope it feels good to him, hope you're doing it right.

"That's so good, baby," he murmurs, and you whimper at his praise.

You pop him out of your mouth and take a deep breath, peering up at him curiously, "Can...can you..."

His brow furrows, "Can I what, angel?"

"Can you show me how to... how to take all of it? Like, how to put it in my throat?"

The expression on his face is hard to describe, a mix of disbelief and untamed arousal. His mouth opens to speak but he doesn't say anything, taking a few seconds to formulate a response before clearing his throat and giving you a weak - and slightly wrecked - smile.

"Y'sure you wanna try that?" he asks you, ever the gentleman, "That's....it's a lot to take in your throat, babygirl."

"I know," you breathe, sincerity in your eyes, "But I wanna try."

He reaches down and thumbs a stray hair from your face, pushes it behind your ear, "You're probably gonna gag," he murmurs gently - a warning. "It might be uncomfortable for you."

You raise an eyebrow, "So... you don't want me to?"

He laughs breathlessly, "I... I didn't say I don't want it. But I don't want you to try something you don't feel ready for," he frowns, "Don't want you to feel any pressure with me."

"I don't," you admit honestly, "I don't feel any pressure, Joel, I promise. I just...really wanna try it. I want you to show me."

He takes a deep breath, strokes your cheek gently and then reaches down to hold the base of his cock again. Your hands fall to his thighs, still clad in his swim trunks.

"Lemme just see how far you can go without gaggin' first," he tells you softly, patiently, "Want you to stop when you feel it in that spot, okay? Don't go any further than that."

You nod, already beyond excited that you're learning something new, something that'll make him feel good. You open your mouth to take him back inside but he touches your face again, stopping you.

"Deep breath," he advises quietly. You do as you're told.

He helps guide the fat head of his cock past your lips, watches as you very slowly ease yourself down. You close your eyes, all your focus centered on this singular task, fighting to push past the slight discomfort of having your mouth stuffed so full. It takes barely a moment for you to reach the point he was talking about, when you feel the head of his cock brush ever so slightly against your gag reflex. On instinct, your eyes snap open, your entire body freezing in place.

"Right there?" he asks quietly, but you know he's not waiting for an answer, knows you couldn't talk even if you wanted to, "That's so much baby, good girl." His praise send throbs of pleasure to your pussy, warmth to your cheeks. Your eyes meet his and you can see how turned on he is, see the way the corners of his mouth twitch with pleasure. "Let go when you're ready, honey."

You hold yourself there for a few more seconds, eyes watering a little bit as you hold his gaze, just testing the power of your lungs and the strain of your jaw. When it becomes too much you pull your mouth off him and find yourself gasping for breath, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as drool spills down your chin.

"How was that?" he asks, thumbing your cheek again with one hand and stroking himself with the other, working your saliva up and down his length, "Uncomfortable?"

You shake your head, "It was good," you whisper, voice a bit crackly, "I wanna try and take more, can I?"

He nods, smiles encouragingly and taps his swollen cockhead against your bottom lip again, slow and tantalizing, "Course you can, babygirl," he murmurs, "Deep breath."

You inhale deeply again, gathering as much air into your lungs as possible before sinking your mouth down onto him and allowing his thick girth to fill you all over again. This time when you feel him reach that spot, you let yourself keep going just a little bit further, allow the head of his cock to push more firmly against it and slip the tiniest bit into the back of your throat.

You gag immediately.

It's very loud; a dry wretch that you can admit sounds absolutely horrific in the current circumstance. Before you can even really process what to do next, he's tugging you off his cock, voice suddenly worried, frantic, "Okay, no, that's too much," he says quickly, and you look up to see him shaking his head, "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"M'fine," you try to garble out, but you're shocked when just talking suddenly sends you into a coughing fit. You bang on your chest and squeeze his thigh with your other hand, feeling more drool cascade down your chin and onto your bare chest.

"Angel," he says soothingly, leaning forward to pat your back, brows furrowed again in concern, "I'm sorry, honey."

You shake your head, "I-I'm okay," you splutter out, "Just gimme a second."

"It's too much," he repeats, almost pleading, "Please, baby, I don't wanna see you struggle, that's not fun for me."

As much as you hate the idea of giving up, you have to admit that he's right. That wretch had not been pleasant, and while you think you could eventually learn to take all of him, maybe forcing yourself to do it when you're supposed to be having fun on vacation isn't the best time.

"Okay," you mumble defeatedly, sitting back on your knees, "But I still wanna suck it."

He laughs again, relief flooding his features as he leans back on the couch and smiles crookedly at you, "You can still suck it, darlin'. Just take your time and don't push your limits, alright? Promise me."

"I promise."

You spend the next fifteen minutes or so playing with Joel's cock, stroking it with your hand, kitten licking along the shaft and head, just touching as much as you can without any time pressure for once. He pets your hair as he watches you, thumbs your cheeks and dimples, small groans tumbling past his lips, face scrunched in pleasure as you explore. You take as much of him as you can in your mouth, bob up and down slowly with your eyes trained on his face, feel the way his thick length twitches and pulses against your tongue.

It's almost feral the way you drink him down, hollowing your cheeks and basking in the way his body responds to you. You're so wet, aching to touch yourself but wanting this moment to be just for him, a thank you for this weekend, this hotel, for everything. Instead you palm his balls, roll them in your palm and revel in the desperate sounds he makes.

"I love your cock," you whine, repeating your earlier statement as you fist it up and down with spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, "I love it so much, Joel." You can feel yourself dripping in your bikini bottoms, feel your own slick gathering on your inner thighs.

"I know, baby," he gasps out, running one hand through his hair and the other through yours as his belly tenses and untenses, as his thighs tremble, "I know you love it, s'all yours, baby. S'your cock."

"My cock," you echo, almost a whimper, "Mine."

"Yours, it's yours," he moans loudly, hands curling into fists as his head hits the back of the couch, "Shit, I'm gonna come."

"Come in my mouth," you tell him immediately, wasting no time in sinking back down onto his length. He doesn't ask if you're sure; he's too far gone to be a gentleman anymore, and you love it. You watch as he suddenly sits up on the couch, reaches both hands forward and cradles your head in them firmly. He helps you move up and down, groaning as he does, and then-

His cock pulses on your tongue, thick and heavy, bobbing against the roof of your mouth. You feel a burst of cum hit the back of your throat, then another, and another, all the while Joel moans and holds your head in place, toes curling into the rug. Your eyes roll back as he fills your mouth, overwhelmed by the salty taste and thick texture, and - without really meaning to - you swallow around him to make more space. He practically whines at the sensation, pulsing once more to release one final burst of his spend.

And then he's falling back against the couch, cock popping out of your mouth, expression dazed. Without thinking about it you swallow the rest of his cum, eyelashes fluttering at the odd sensation of it all slipping down your throat. So much, gone in an instant. It's only then that you actually realize what you've done.

"I swallowed it," you say, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach, "Was I supposed to swallow it?"

He laughs softly, covers his mouth with the back of his hand, "It is perfectly fine that you swallowed it, darlin'," he smiles wide and opens his arms, "C'mere."

You clamor off your knees and crawl into his lap immediately, straddling his thighs and pressing your wet bikini bottoms against the slope of his belly. He lets out a little groan, pulls you in and strokes your hair.

"You did so good," he praises you softly, kisses your temple, "So good, baby. Made me come so much."

"There was a lot," you tell him, nuzzling into his neck and letting your breathing slowly even out, "S'why I swallowed it, I was trying to make room."

"Was it okay? It didn't make you gag, did it?"

You shake your head, a pout on your lips, "Felt good in my mouth," you whisper, "I liked it."

He hums, hands trailing from your hair to your bare back where he unclasps your bikini top and lets it cascade to the floor, then reaches down and tugs at your bottoms. You lift up carefully, let him slip them down your thighs and watches as you kick them off, leaving you fully naked in his lap.

"So pretty when you're bare like this," he whispers, and it sends more slick to your folds, oozing down and making a mess on his tummy. He cups your pussy in one hand and slides two fingers easily inside of you, thumb rubbing circles against your clit. You grip his arm, eyes falling closed and pitiful little sounds slipping from your mouth. "My good girl deserves a reward for suckin' my cock so good, swallowin' all that cum, don't you think?"

You nod, biting down on your lip and letting him fuck you with his digits, eyes rolling behind your lids.

"Yeah, you do," he answers for you, "You deserve it, angel. Always."

He makes you come easily, leaving you a messy, twitching heap in his lap as your arms wrap around his neck, body going lax and loose. After a few moments he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, helps you into the shower, smiles when you peer blearily up at him through your afterglow.

"Just close your eyes and lean against me," he tells you softly as the water falls, removing his swim trunks and getting in to stand behind you, "I'll get you cleaned up, sweetheart."

You nap after your shower, exhausted and sated in every possible way. Joel wakes you up around two o'clock with more room service - sandwiches and soup that you devour with bright eyes and light conversation side by side in bed. It's domestic bliss the way he thumbs mustard from your lips, pours you more water, slices your key lime pie and feeds it to you with a fond smile.

I love you I love you I love you.

"Would it absolutely ruin this moment if I suggested tryin' our hand at a hymn?" he asks when you've both finished, wiping the crumbs on his fingers with a napkin and gesturing to his guitar case in the corner of the room.

You grimace, "I guess not."

"I'm just thinkin' about your parents," he places his hand on your hip - clad in another one of his shirts - and gives you a sympathetic smile, "It's probably best to pick somethin' and have it ready."

You nod. You know he's right, that your lack of preparedness these past few weeks has been pretty reckless considering it's been the entire "reason" you've been seeing him. With a sigh you slip out from under the covers and traipse over to the couch, listening as Joel unclasps the guitar case.

"I did some research," he tells you as he walks over, hooking the strap over his shoulders as he goes, "I think our best bet for an easy tune is How Great Thou Art. Pretty repetitive chord progression, only uses G, C, and D."

You make a face, crossing your arms, "I can't believe I have to do this."

He laughs, "It was either that or Come Ye Sinners, and I think that one's a little too on the nose, don't you think?" He tosses you a smile and you can't help but return it, feeling your frustration melt away under his gaze.

"Can we do that thing again where I get a reward?" you ask shyly, biting your lip. His eyebrows go up, a smirk lighting his face.

"Hmm, I think that's doable," he sits down beside you, tuning the guitar, "What'd you have in mind?" You notice the way his eyes dart toward your groin and your cheeks warm.

"I was actually thinking that maybe..." your hands play with the hem of his shirt nervously, unsure what he'll say, "maybe you could play something for me? You said last night that you've written some songs," you shrug, trying to be nonchalant, "I'd... I'd really like to hear one, if you wouldn't mind."

He peers at you for a few seconds, smirk fading briefly only to be replaced with a tender smile, eyes softening as he gazes at you. Warmth blooms in your chest. You never want him to stop looking at you like that.

"I can do that," he tells you quietly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "I mean... I can't promise it'll be good, but-"

"I don't care."

He chuckles and nods, grips the guitar again and clears his throat, "Well, alright then. Let's get started."

For the first time ever, the lesson is actually a lesson. No undercurrent of sex, no inappropriate touching or sensual glances, no teasing or filthy words. You're not sure how you're able to hold yourself back so easily, able to really focus on what Joel is saying and showing you, helping place your fingers in the right locations and teach you the strumming techniques. Maybe it's because you're tired - you did come three times already today - but it's not just that.

It just feels so... normal. So easy. You think back to that first lesson, the nervousness you'd felt and the pounding of your heart in your chest, the anticipation and the fear.

It's different now. Now that he's been inside you, become one with you, it's like your whole dynamic has changed - for the better. Of course you still feel that curious nervousness, the innocence, the electricity between you. But there's something so solid and tangible about it now, something certain. Something real.

He shapes your fingers along the neck of the guitar, praising you softly every time you play a note that sounds right, encouraging you as you repeat the G chord a few times, then C, then D. You strum along slowly, taking your time, and before you know it you're playing something that actually doesn't sound half bad.

"We definitely need to work on buildin' up those calluses," he murmurs, stroking the tips of your fingers under his thumb, "Well... If you're gonna do this long-term, I mean."

You peer at him curiously, tilting your head to the side. He looks sheepish, like he's said something he hadn't meant to.

"You think I could do this, like... for real? As a hobby?"

His mouth turns up at the corners and he nods, "I think you can do anything you set your mind to, darlin'."

Your heart is suddenly in your throat at his words, emotion bubbling under the surface of your skin. You drop your hand from the guitar and reach up to cup his face, pulling him toward you to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kisses you back just as soft, just as careful.

"Thank you," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "Thank you for saying that."

He presses his forehead to yours, shakes his head ever so slightly, "Don't gotta thank me for sayin' what's true, angel. You deserve to hear it every single day."

You finish the lesson with tears still welling in your eyes, a lump in your throat. When you lean the guitar against the side of the couch he cradles your face in his hands and gently kisses the tears away, brushes his lips along your eyelids and cheeks, your jaw and your lips, saying everything without saying anything at all.

"Okay," you sigh, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes to smile sweetly at him, "Time for my reward."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes a little, reaching for the guitar and beginning to tune it again. You watch as he twists the keys, strums a little here and there, hums softly for each note to match his voice. Anticipation rises in your chest.

"Now, uh," he clears his throat a bit, avoiding eye contact, "It's been a while since I played this one but it's, uh," he takes a breath, "It's one I wrote when Sarah was born. Used to sing it to her to help her fall asleep."

You melt at the words, smiling wider, "What's it called?"

He finally meets your eyesight, lips pressing together sheepishly, "Sarah."

Oh, duh. You nod in encouragement, leaning back against the armrest of the couch and waiting for him to begin. He takes another deep breath, dropping his gaze to watch his fingers shape the first chord. It's then that you notice his hands - usually deft and steady - are trembling a little bit, so much so that he has to readjust his position on the strings a few times.

He's nervous.

He stares at his hand, takes another deep breath.

You wait.

"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath, "Sorry, just gimme a minute."

"It's okay, take your time." Your voice is barely a whisper, awestruck by the sudden vulnerability you're witnessing. He'd agreed to the reward so quickly, you'd been sure he didn't mind. But now as you sit here waiting, you're not so sure. You watch him take more deep breaths, watch as he closes his eyes and seems to center himself.

"If you don't want to-"

"I want to," he says immediately, shaking his head, "I want to, I've just... I haven't sung in a while."

Your brow furrows, confused, "You sang yesterday in the car, didn't you? And you sang Tangled Up In Blue when we first met, and that other one, the one from the eighties."

His lips turn up at the corners, a welcome smile, "Take On Me."

"Yeah, that one."

He sighs, tightening his grip on the guitar, "It's not that I haven't sung I guess. Wrong wordin'," he bites his lip, "It's moreso that I haven't sung this one. Or any of my originals. Not for a long time."

You frown, "How come?"

"I guess... I just..." he searches for the words, staring at the floor, "No one's really asked me to. And it's not like I'm playin' gigs or tourin' or any of that pipe dream stuff I thought about when I was a kid." He laughs humorlessly, like the concept is ridiculous, "So I guess I just kinda... stopped, after a while."

You feel a sudden sadness that you can't really explain, picturing that bright-eyed little version of Joel, stuck in a household that wouldn't let him grow, wouldn't let him be himself. All those dreams and big ideas, dashed before he was able to get out and make his mark. Life getting busy, too busy, other responsibilities taking up all his time until the thing he loved most became nothing but a memory. A pipe dream.

It makes your heart ache.

"D'you mind if I just..." he meets your gaze again finally, eyes soft and a little sad, "Could I maybe just hum it? Instead? I know that's kind of a cop-out, but-"

"Of course you can," you breathe out, hand coming down to rest atop his knee, "Of course you can hum it."

"I'm sorry, baby, I know you wanted -"

"It's hard being vulnerable, Joel," you interrupt him again, shaking your head and stroking your thumb against his skin, "God knows it's been hard for me, and you've been nothing but patient." You give him a watery smile and he returns it, "Please take your time. I can be patient too, I promise."

You can tell how much he appreciates it. He reaches down and picks up your hand, presses a gentle kiss to the back of it before setting it back down and taking one last deep breath.

"Well, here it is," he says with a little more confidence, a smile playing at his lips.

You've heard him play before, obviously; you've already seen the way his fingers work the strings like it's just second nature, the way his thumb strums out the chords effortlessly. But this time is different. Knowing what he's playing is completely original, born from his own creativity out of love and devotion, a father's affection and protectiveness, it just sounds special. New. He begins to pluck out a soft, slow, soothing melody that immediately puts you at ease, makes you lean back further against the couch and loosen your body. It's tender, quiet - a lullaby.

He hums softly, voice crackling a bit in his throat at first but then settling into a smooth and comforting sound. It's almost like a waltz, the way the chords change back and forth, in and out, slow and steady. Of course you wonder what the real words are, what his quiet hums are substituting, but you find that it doesn't really matter. What matters is the look on his face, eyes distant, as if he's picturing his daughter as she was when she was little. You try to picture it too, thinking of the photograph in his house, the one of him pushing Sarah on the swing. Just a father and his little girl, against the world.

It isn't a very long song. It fades out relatively quickly, and as soon as he strums out the final chord you sit up on the couch and clap ferociously, tears stinging in your eyes all over again.

"I'd usually, uh, play it a couple times for her," he says awkwardly, "'Til she fell asleep."

"It was beautiful," you tell him earnestly, "It was so beautiful, Joel."

He shakes his head with an embarrassed laugh and swivels around to go place his guitar back in its case. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. You know how he feels when you spot the tips of ears, tinged pink, warm from your praise.

The rest of the day passes in what feels like a warm, luxurious, passionate blur. You go to dinner that evening and order lobster, revel in the way it practically melts in your mouth with sips of champagne and bites of blueberry cheesecake. Joel tells you a little more about his life, tells you everything you want to know about his daughter and his ex. It's not a difficult or uncomfortable conversation like you'd been worried it might be. Instead, you feel closer learning these things about him, feel even more connected to him than you did before as he tells you about Mish and Sarah, their relationship, the arrangement.

"I think I understand it better now," you tell him thoughtfully, "Now that I've actually..." you peer at him shyly, "You know... done it."

He chuckles, "Sex is a powerful thing, it really is. And when you find someone you're compatible with it can be really easy to keep goin' back to 'em. Settle into it, you know? Even if the other parts of your relationship don't work."

"It's like...friends with benefits, right?"

"Exactly. And it really does work for some people, worked for Mish and I for a long time," he shakes his head and reaches across the table to take your hand, "But that's over now, I need you to know that. It's over. You're the only woman in my life and that's how I want it to be. You believe me right?"

His eyes are soft, warm, loving, sincerity practically glowing in his expression.

"I believe you, Joel. Of course I believe you."

You have sex again when you get back to the room, slow and intimate and tender and perfect. You claw at his back as whimpers and cries tear from your mouth, writhing in pleasure beneath him on the bed as he fills you over and over, murmurs filth in your ear and presses down on your clit with his thumb. It's like you've died and gone to heaven, this feeling of permanent bliss and satisfaction, the sensation of being so full and so connected. It's the closest you've ever felt to real inner peace; who would have thought that sitting on a cock instead of in a church pew would be the thing to bring you closer to godliness?

I pray at the church of Joel Miller, you think to yourself as you recover from your fifth orgasm of the day, laying there with fluttering lashes and heaving belly, mind foggy and eyes bleary. Joel is kissing your thighs somewhere below, whispering praises, humming against your skin as he wipes a warm cloth over your twitching pussy.

"I keep thinking about how many sins I've committed in the last twenty four hours," you mumble to him, sleep quickly making its way into your psyche, "And then I remember that I don't care."

His laugh is the last thing you hear before you drift off.

Sunday morning is bittersweet. You spend most of it wrapped in Joel's embrace, tracing the freckles and scars on his skin, drifting in and out of consciousness while he peppers kisses all over your face and neck. You have to leave the hotel by noon, get back on the road again and head back home, but the bed is so warm. He's so warm. Everything is warm.

"You never fucked me in the shower," you whisper to him softly, so quiet you wonder if he can even hear you, "Or on the floor."

"I still can," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep, fingers trailing delicately through your hair, "We have a little time."

You nuzzle into his warmth and close your eyes, sighing contentedly, "No," you breathe, "I just want you to hold me."

So he does.

The drive home is quieter, but not in a bad way. You're still tired from your escapades and find yourself dozing every so often, vaguely aware of Joel turning down the volume or switching the song to something more chill when he notices you starting to drift. His hand is ever-present on your thigh, stroking the skin over and over like it's just habit at this point. You know you should be forcing yourself to stay awake, to enjoy these last few hours before life goes back to normal, but he really did a number on you.

It's only when you stop at a gas station - the same one where you first saw the playlist you weren't sure you were meant to - that you finally start to feel more awake.

"So tell me about this Angel playlist," you say with a smirk, waving his phone at him as he gets back in the truck, "Can we listen to it?"

A look of surprise crosses his face, but he doesn't seem upset, "How did you even find out about that?"

"I'm in control of the music, remember? It's your spotify."

He groans, cheeks flushing as he pushes on the gas and pulls out of the station, avoiding eye contact. "You were not supposed to see that."

Intrigue floods your brain, fuels your grin, "So it's for me?"

He takes a moment to respond, thumb stroking the wheel as he eyes the road, lip between his teeth. You can tell he's debating whether or not he should answer you, but his silence says everything. Impatient, you practically bounce in your seat, "Can we listen to it? Pretty please?"

He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, "Who is this girl sittin' in the front seat of my truck?" He squeezes your thigh, "You're gettin' bold, darlin'. I like it."

"Enough to let me listen to the playlist?"

He sighs, but you know he's not mad, can see the smile tugging at his lips, "...Maybe. At least enough to listen to one song. Will that tide you over?"

"Yes, it most certainly will," you're already tapping Angel, eyes alight with curiosity, "Which song?"

"Northern Sky by Nick Drake, should be the first one there."

You turn to him with a raised brow, "How do you know that's the first song?"

"'Cause I made the damn playlist."

"And you listen to it a lot?"

He laughs again, eyes rolling fondly as he turns his attention back to the road and grins at your words, "You're somethin' else."

You've still got a shit eating grin on your face as the song starts, the soft strumming of guitar filling the small space. Oh, this is pretty. You playfully nod your head to the chords and he rolls his eyes again, strokes your thigh and keeps his attention focused on the road.

And then the lyrics start.

I never felt magic crazy as this I never saw moons, knew the meaning of the sea I never held emotion in the palm of my hand Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree But now you're here Brighten my northern sky

Your grin fades almost immediately, realization blooming on your face as the reality of what this playlist actually is begins to dawn on you. You'd thought maybe it was songs he wanted to share with you, songs he wanted to teach you how to play. Just random tunes that he compiled together with you in mind.

No, that's not what this is at all. As the lyrics continue, the melody growing more steady, more beautiful, you realize that these are songs that remind him of you. An entire playlist dedicated to the way he feels.

You stare at the road as the song plays out, not speaking. Your eyes are stinging with tears but you can't bring yourself to say anything, to even look at him. You feel him squeeze your thigh again, a comforting and reassuring little gesture. As if to say, l know, I'm here. As the final chords fade out you frantically reach for his phone and press pause, out of respect for his privacy but also because you're completely unprepared to hear another song like that. You catch him peering at you in your periphery, and you will yourself to look at him with watery eyes.

"Satisfied?" he asks softly, giving you that gorgeous crooked smile.

All you can choke out is a "Yeah."

Arriving back at the parking garage hurts. Joel pulls his truck in beside your car, still in the same spot you'd left it, and takes the key out of the ignition with a long sigh. You look over at him, emotion burning in your throat.

"I don't wanna go home," you whisper.

"Oh, babygirl," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "C'mere." He holds his arms open and you clamor over the center console to settle into his lap, burying your face in his neck. He holds you tight and rubs your back, hushes you softly when you start to cry. How is this weekend already over? How are things just supposed to go back to normal now?

"I don't want you to go back there either," he breathes, "If I had it my way you'd be comin' home with me." You feel him press a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, "But you're strong. You're stronger than you think you are and I know you can get through this. Whatever they have to say, whatever they do, you'll get through it. We'll get through it together."

You don't say anything else, just melt into the warmth of his body and let him hold you, comfort you, until your cries and hiccups fade into even breaths. You pull back slowly and peer at his beautiful face, long to say the words you've been holding back all weekend - but you know there's a reason you've been holding back, know this isn't the right time, not yet.

Instead, you kiss him. It's soft and sweet, a tender goodbye. Temporary, fleeting. You know it's not forever, know you'll probably sneak over tomorrow night to see him again under cover of darkness, find yourself in his bed, get wrapped up in him. But it's a goodbye nonetheless. A goodbye to this - the simplicity, the sense of normalcy and lack of time constraints, the domestic bliss and the thrill of the escape. A goodbye to the bliss.

Driving away from him a few minutes later, watching his truck fade into the distance in your rearview mirror - you think it might be one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

next chapter (two).

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

tag list <3

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kisakis-boyfriend · 15 days ago

Text

Private Affairs

Author's Note: This was just supposed to be a random thirst, but my hands wouldn't leave the keyboard 😵‍💫 Part 2 coming later today!

Pairings: Dan Heng x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Dan Heng, breeding kink, Dan Heng's hole is referred to as "pussy, cunt, & boypussy", implied Caelus/Dan Heng/Reader at the end

For once, Dan Heng was thankful that the door to his room could be locked. While he normally had no problem with people visiting out of the blue, well… if anyone walked in at this very moment, they'd probably find themselves at the end of his spear.

So, of course, the usual occupants of the Astral Express would need his assistance. Every last one of them, to be more precise.

The first to stop by is March 7th. Her perky voice chirps just outside of the room; “Hey, Dan Heng, are you busy? I need your opinion on something!”

“Y-yeah– a little busy right now. Can it wait?”

There's a strain in his voice that's not normally present. March picks up on the change immediately, questioning in a suspicious tone. “Are you feeling ok? You sound funny…”

She can't see it, but she can almost feel Dan Heng roll his eyes. “I am… I'm just– unf~ mm~ just searching for something in the archives…” His chest bangs into the wall, and from his parted lips flows a noise that he prays his friend didn't hear. “AaAAaaHhhH~ Something deep in the archives… oh fuck–!”

She eventually leaves, though she has to be reassured a few times. What she also didn't see was her friend pressed up against the wall on the other side of the door, biting his sleeve and digging his fingers into the wall while you—Dan Heng's good ol' pal—breed his hole.

You're still holding onto his waist when Pom Pom rushes up to the door, shouting something about the lighting in the cars…?

“I-I'll be out there to look at it in a bit…” Dan Heng stutters, hoping the lop-eared conductor will take that as a sufficient answer.

Just as soon as you hear their little footsteps disappear, you're sliding back inside, dead set on emptying another load into your "friend's" boypussy.

In typical Dan Heng fashion, he's chastising you about "getting caught" or "someone hearing you" and "you're such a pervert". But as he's saying all of these things, he's still not stopping you from pounding his cunt — in fact, he's even giving you orders to "at least fuck me like you mean it".

As luck would have it, Himeko passes by next — who most likely hears the sickening slick noises of your dick as it breaches new territory, going even deeper into Dan Heng's fucked out hole.

“Dan Heng, is everything alright…?”

This time, you have to answer, because if your "good friend" dares to speak right now, something other than words would spill out. “Heeeyy Himeko! We're a little busy at the moment. Did you need something?”

The knowing smile on her lips comes through as she hums “Oh, it's nothing. Don't let me interrupt~”

Well…at least you can count on her not to rat either of you out…

Even with the countless interruptions, you've managed to keep a bruising pace — you even have Dan Heng on the cusp of becoming nonverbal. His perfect ass bounces with your rough thrusts, taking your cock like a perfect little angel.

You lift his leg up, and with this new angle you're able to slam into his prostate. The garbled sounds pushing their way out of him—as well as his cunt clenching down on your cock—drive you mad, and you end up breeding him again just as Welt stops by–

“Dan Heng, hello?” Everything comes to a halt — Dan Heng's cock slaps against his stomach as you shove your dick all the way inside, plugging him up and forcing him to stand on his tiptoes. His eyes cross, and before he can moan so loudly the entire train would be able to hear it, you cover his mouth.

“Yes?” you reply.

“Y/n? Is Dan Heng with you?”

You feel your cock throb, and you're sure Dan Heng does too. You can also feel the heavy amount of cum stuck inside of him—unable to drip out with your dick still inside. His hole grips your shaft tightly, and you suppress a groan before answering the man outside of the door; “Yeah, he's sorta focused on looking up something.”

No indication that Welt suspects anything. “I see. If you could both find me later, there's something I wanted to show you. It's no rush.” His footsteps fade back to the parlor car.

Dan Heng gradually slumps against the wall, held up only by your tight grip in his hair and the other hand on his waist. Not even the energy to glare at you as he whines.

Another set of footsteps approaches — your last visitor is none other than Caelus. What absolute perfect timing.

Caelus knocks on the door, sounding surprised when your voice is the one that greets him. “Hey, trailblazer, need something?”

“Just looking for Dan Heng. Is he in there?”

“Sure is. You can come in.” you reach over and unlock the door with an audible clunk.

!!!!!!

“O-oh! I um…” the silver haired man stares at his two friends. Dan Heng — flushed and whining. His dick still dripping a bit of cum onto the floor. And you — a little worn out, but cocky as you remain buried inside of Mr. Cold Dragon Young, with a creamy ring around the base of your cock.

Caelus' hands shake as he fumbles for the door handle, but it's no use. You slide Dan Heng's door shut and lock it again, finally speaking in an expectant tone. “Well—gonna stand there like a deer in headlights, or do you wanna help me clean up?”

#my writing #oneshot #dan heng #dan heng smut #dan heng x male reader #dan heng x reader #honkai smut #hsr smut #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #sub male character #sub hsr

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 3 months ago

Note

Lightly possessive!reader x Logan. I wanna see him flustered about it too >.< Could do a 5+1? I adore those <3

Ideas:

hand on thigh

hand on waist

possessive/pointed kiss in front of someone trying to hit on him (save him!)

put space between him and another person (again, that was flirting with him)

👏stand👏up👏for👏this👏man👏

Okaythankyoumightcomebackbyeeeee

-🌸👸

Okay I loved this! I did a 4+1 instead of a 5+1 (I ran out of ideas) I hope that's okay! Request for Logan are open! Lmk if you want to be added to Logan's taglist!

A/N: The reader has a mutation where they can yell really loud and like shatter glass and stuff lol

1. Hand on his thigh:

It was your annual date night, and you decided to just do casual this week. The two of you sat next to each other in the booth, you were looking over the menu and Logan was watching the hockey game that was playing on one of the TVs. Since he was distracted, he didn't notice the waitress coming over to take the order, you leaned over to order more clearly since the music was loud and to steady yourself you ended up putting your right hand on his upper thigh without even thinking. As you ordered his brain malfunctioned. His eyes widened slightly, a faint blush dusted his cheeks, and he swears his ears started ringing. All he could think about was how close your hand was to his - "Oh, thank you so much! Lo, sweetheart what do you want?" He finally snapped out of it, he looked over at you and then the waitress before clearing his throat and ordering his food.

2. Arms around his waist: (I had two ideas, so I just wrote both)

You found Logan standing by the back door watching a group of students practice their hand and eye coordination skills. You'd been looking for him all morning, he sneaked out of bed before you could even get up and you decided to sneak up on him. Well sneak up on him as much as you can sneak up on someone with super senses.

He was so focused on the students that he jumped at the feeling of smaller arms wrapping around his waist. He looked down and relaxed into your arms when he noticed your hands, "Hi princess" he muttered and focused back on the students as he held your arms in place. The two of you stood there for a few minutes in quiet, he rubbed your arms, softly trailing his fingers up and down your skin. He was so relaxed that he nearly forgot that he was supposed to be watching the kids train until someone started yelling that their nose is broken. "Oh fuck" He muttered and left your hold to go check on the kid.

2.5 Arms around his waist:

He was half asleep standing in front of the coffee pot, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. He had just rolled out of bed, hair still all over the place, nothing but sweats on. Fuck is that not the best sight to see first thing in the morning.

You walked up to him and leaned up against him, pressing your chest against his back and wrapped one of your arms around his waist to steady yourself as you grab your favorite mug from the top shelf. He has to bite back a whine feeling your chest press up against his back, feeling you against his skin makes flash backs of the night before flash before his eyes. You whisper in his ear "Morning handsome," before kissing his cheek. You get to steal the coffee pot from him and get the first cup of coffee while he is trying to recover from the kiss.

"G'mornin indeed darlin" He smiles and says groggy, drunk off the feeling you give him.

3. You stand up for him:

It was clear that he didn't see eye to eye with Scott all the time. Today the most recent argument was over the mission plans that Scott swears by and for some reason Logan's gut is telling him it was going to end badly.

"I'm telling you this is a mistake! It'll be a blood bath if you don't fix your shit plan" Logan growled as Scott tried to walk away from him. Logan grabbed Scott's arm and made him stay in the room; Scott yanked his arm out of his grasp. "This is the plan! There will be no changing it I know what I'm doing. My team will be safe, some of us protect our loved ones." He left before Logan could get another word in. Logan was ready to just give in, if Scott didn't want to believe him then it'd be blood on Summer's hands not his, but you tensed up after hearing what he said, and you couldn't drop it.

"How could he talk to you like that?!" You scream making Logan cringe slightly, he moves closer to you to try and calm you down, but you escape the room before he could get to you. Oh, fuck Logan sighed and left the room to go find you before you seriously hurt Scott. He heard glass shatter from how loud you were yelling at Scott, and he couldn't help but get flustered and hard knowing not only are you sticking up for him, but you're using your mutation for him too.

4. That's your man

The entire team wanted to go to a bar, and you thought there would be no harm in the trip. You were wrong.

There was this tiny blonde who tried to latch herself to Logan as soon as you guys walked through the door. Logan stayed close to you the entire night, but you separated yourself from him for five minutes to get him another whiskey and you another vodka cranberry. As you went back to the table you saw Logan alone with that little blonde and all of your teammates were out either playing pool or ordering food. Oh, fuck no you mutter to yourself as you stomped over to the table. You didn't care that a girl was flirting with your Logan, look at him. He's so pretty. You were mad because he clearly looked uncomfortable, and you had been there when he told her no the first three times.

"Hey barbie" You greeted her sarcastically as you handed Logan his whiskey, "Here you go baby" you say loud and clear as you sat in his lap. "Thank you darlin" he response with a smirk. He knows how you get when you feel extra possessive, he also knows you're going to get pouty because your attempts at leaving hickies on him will fail once again. He wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you on his lap and he takes a sip of his drink, enjoying the little show that your sarcasm will be giving him. However, the girl doesn't seem to take a hint, and he can see your jaw clenching more and more.

"Baby?" he asked quietly, growing concerned of the situation, "Let's just head home." Before he can tap your thighs to signal you to get up you glare at the woman and grab his dog tags making his eyes widen, he stumbles slightly as you pull him even closer, and he nearly moans against your lips as you kiss him with more passion than ever before.

When you pull away barbie is finally gone.

5. That's my girl

Logan has been looking for you all afternoon. It was finally a nice cool day, and he thought you would enjoy a walk to your favorite little cafe before the sun set but he couldn't find you. "Where the fuck is she? The mansion isn't that big!" He was quietly ranting to himself as he wandered around the property. He heard your laugh coming from one of the spare rooms and he couldn't stop the smile from growing.

'Oh, her laugh is amazing, if she's laughing that means she's smiling and if she's smiling it means she looks like she's glowing and-'

As he was thinking about you, he rounded the corner, and his smile dropped. Fucking Jean. A sharp glare graced his face as he watched the red head push hair away from your face, he knew you were working with her on a project and it's not that he didn't trust you, you were his everything. He didn't trust her with his everything though.

You looked over at the door and he watched your face light up when you saw him "Oh my handsome man!" You cheered and skipped over to him before wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and smirked when he saw Jean's face drop slightly. He kissed your head and asked you out on the little date he had originally planned, you squealed and told him to give you five minutes as you go grab one of his your jackets. He gives you a nod and a smile and watches you leave the room, when you are out of sight his smile drops and he goes back to glaring at Jean as he walks out of the room.

Taglist: @mahi-tamashi @100percentlazybonez @lanassmarty

@misscrissfemmefatle

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slayfics · 10 months ago

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Katsuki joins you in the bath.

Warnings: Katsuki aged up | NSFW themes

800 words~

The warmth of the bath surrounded you as you took another sip of your wine. It was nice to finally be at home and done with the day.

You jumped slightly hearing your front door open and close. You hadn't been expecting anyone over, which caused you to panic until the loud stomps immediately became recognizable.

Katsuki.

He walked into the bathroom, a smirk spreading on his lips at seeing you laid out in the bath with a glass of wine.

"I wasn't expecting you to stop by today," you said, taking a sip of wine.

"Got off early- thought I'd come to say hi," He explained.

"You know that key I gave you to my place was supposed to be for emergencies... not that I'm complaining though," You winked.

Katsuki stood for a few moments taking in the sight of your exposed skin. Silently he cursed the bubbles in the bath that hid the rest of you.

"You look comfortable," he said.

"I am, you should join me," you said, waving the glass of wine that was dangling between your fingers.

"If I join you that water is going everywhere," He laughed.

"I got a mop," you said, taking another sip while your eyes met his, daring him to follow through.

Katsuki chuckled, ripped off his shirt and threw it aside, then worked at his buckle to undress the rest of himself. You watched him taking slow sips enjoying as he peeled all the layers of his clothing off and dropped them to the floor.

"Careful what you wish for," he said before stepping in behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist bringing you up against his chest as he laid behind you in the bath. Water and bubbles spilled out of the tub splashing out onto the bathroom floor.

You laughed at his playfulness and rested your head back against his chest. Katsuki lowered his head to rest on top of yours, nuzzling his cheek slighting into your damp hair. You moved your hand from under the water to run through his hair.

The room was silent except for the sound of settling bubbles and dripping water until Katsuki said in a voice barely above a whisper, "This is nice."

You nodded slightly agreeing.

Katsuki found himself getting lost in the warmth of the bath and the soft feel of your skin beneath his hands. Everything was rough outside of here, but at this moment he felt calm. The stress and loud thoughts that always plagued him were silenced for a moment. Being around you reminded him of the same feeling he gets from hiking. Tranquil, he thought.

"How was work?" You asked bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Shitty," he responded shortly. "You?"

"Shitty," you responded with a giggle escaping your lips. "It's good to see you though," You said. Katsuki didn't respond but tightened his grip around your waist ever so slightly indicating to you he felt the same.

"How long do you get to stay?" You asked.

"I have another patrol at 6 am so... not long," he said solemnly.

"Hm- did you eat?" You asked.

"No... You got stuff in the fridge, right? I'll make something." He spoke.

"Nu-uh," You said and reached out of the tub to grab our phone on the counter. "I'll order something, that way we can spend some time together while we wait for the food," you winked.

Katsuki let out a low chuckle," Not gonna argue with that, but-" Katsuki grabbed your phone out of your hand. "I'm picking what we eat, none of that unhealthy crap you like to order," he said, scrolling through your ordering app with one hand while the other was still squeezed tightly around your waist.

"You're staying the night?" You asked while holding your breath, hoping he wouldn't try to rush out too soon.

Katsuki didn't answer at first. He finished up the order and set your phone at the edge of the tub. Placing his head back on top of your head, he wrapped his other arm around you again, squeezing you tightly into his chest again.

"Yeah," He finally spoke, and you felt yourself relax against him.

"You need clothes? I still have some extras you left. I made sure to wash them for you," You offered.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll clean up this water for you- mops in the hall closet, right?" He asked.

"Yup- and when you're done moping... you can come try to get your clean clothes from me," you said playfully.

"HA? You're gonna make me mop with my dick out?!" He exclaimed.

"Well... I do like a show," You laughed.

"Tch- get ready then. It's show time," he said, and then grabbed you, lifting you out of the water in his arms. Your laughter filled the room.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango

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yuyusshinelight · 2 months ago

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Dirty thoughts feat j.yh

⚠️ Advertisings ⚠️

♪ First of all clarify that this does NOT represent Yunho in any way, it is pure fiction.

♪ English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistake I could have.

♪ NSFW! I should say that minors can't read this but I can't stop them from reading this so read at your own risk.

♪ I've reviewed it several times but Tumblr hasn't been on my side lately so if there are any errors let me know, thank you🩷🙏🏻

Note: Just another thought about Yunho letting you take control in bed to steal it at the end and fuck you to faint. What can I say? I'm obsessed with this man being rude in bed 🫣. Well, I hope you like it! I love you, my shining stars🩷

Pleasing his girl is what Yunho lives for. Everything his precious princess wants, he'll make sure she gets it.

So if she tells him with those bright eyes and that adorable blush staining her face that she wants to try being in charge tonight while swaying her body from side to side in such a cute way, how is he going to refuse?

Although at first he was not very fan of the idea of changing roles in bed, after thinking it twice Yunho found it interesting. It might be fun to see how his cute submissive girlfriend who blushes for a measly little wink tries to put aside all that shyness and embarrassment to adopt the completely opposite facet she's used to have.

And he was right.

Just one minute and he's already loving how damn pretty you look on top of him. His lovely girlfriend comfortably sitting on his almost erect cock, wearing his favorite pale pink lingerie set that enhances your breasts, making them voluptuous and hugs your body harmoniously, shaping your ass in a so perfectly round way that when he sees you in that he can't keep his hands off you; all blushed and looking so nervous for not knowing how to start.

"Come on, princess, you have me at your mercy. Show me who's in charge" he encourages you in that damn hot voice that he deliberately drops a few octaves lower because he perfectly knows what an effect it has on you. That sultry grimace in his face making clear that, even if he's going to let you lead tonight, he's the real one in charge here.

You're both aware that neither you can take control away from him, nor can he avoid having it, it comes out without himself realizing it. Hey, but since you asked him so sweetly, Yunho is going to make the effort to pretend that he has given it to you; although it doesn't work out very well because he can't stop from moving as he pleases.

"What a bad boy I'm being, no? Touching you without you giving me permission to do it. I deserve a punishment, no? What are you going to do? Tell me" his body comfortably placed between pillows and both hands caressing the soft skin of your thighs as he usually does, giving you a little help so that you know how to continue with this supposed act of dominance.

And you respond well with that attempt to pin him down to the bed. Yes, attempt. Let's not forget the difference in size between you two, your tiny hand cannot hold both of his at the same time. Well, as they say, the intention is what counts.

"Oh princess, your hand is too small to hold both my wrists at the same time, right? It's okay, I'll hold them in place for you" he grins at you, laughing at how cute you look with that new shadow of red in your face and adjusting the position of his arms to keep his hands above his head against the pillows as he usually withholds yours.

With your free hand, because you have not removed the other of his wrists nor do you plan to, you begin to play with the elastic band of his boxers, looking at him for approval unconsciously, not touching his erection no matter how much you want to, waiting patiently for Yunho to beg you like he usually asks you to do when you're in that same position.

"You want me to beg like you always do, princess?" He asks a little incredulously, laughing at that sudden nervousness with which you nod at him "You want to hear me say how desperate I am for your pussy? Is that?" And as you nod again Yunho gives you that mischievous, arrogant smile that makes you melt so easily "Of course babe, I'll tell you how bad I want to feel your perfect gummy walls squeeze my cock so tight in that desperate attempt to milk my balls".

At this point you don't know if you can keep with this act. Your impatient hand gets rid of his boxers as best it can to free his enormous, veiny cock that hits furiously his belly when you release it. It looks so delicious in your hungry eyes that you don't know whether to put it directly into your throbbing walls or choke on it by forcing all his inches deep into your throat.

Well, while you decide what to do first, your hips decide to go free and sit on his hot, twitching cock again to rub along its entire length seeking relief for your needy pulsing clit.

"That's it princess, grind on my cock like that, I'm losing it" his hips following the rhythm of yours in search of relieving that suffocating need to bury his cock so deep in you that his tip hits your stomach.

Thank goodness impatience got the best of you and, although it takes you a little, you've already buried his cock all the way into your pussy.

The feeling of being among your sticky warmth, receiving him so pleasantly in that tight, welcoming embrace makes you both throw your heads back, needing a moment for both of you to adjust to the new not-so-new sensation.

His dick is so big, feeling even bigger when you ride it to the point that normally you can't do it alone; you are used to have the help of his strong hands to guide you at the pace he wants, something with which you can't count now and that Yunho clearly can notice how affects your moves.

"Are we having trouble here? Need some help, love? No? Can you alone? Sure? If you say so" Yunho can't help but laugh at how adorable you look struggling to swing your hips without the help of his hands as usual.

But he's laughing because he really has no other choice.

What a problem has Yunho right now, having you so close and not being able to touch you as he wants. The need to hold you by the neck and bring you closer to his lips so he can devour you properly takes him down the street of bitterness; the desire to pierce your insides is so strong that even his hips begin to move on their own, making you bounce lightly on his cock in search of that much-needed relief.

"Ah? Why stop moving my hips? You can't keep up with my pace? Oh sorry princess, it's true, you were the one leading tonight" He says, stopping a bit unwillingly as you have so kindly asked him to do just to make you bounce on his cock again a few seconds later as he pleases because he wants and he can.

And no matter how hard you are trying to continue, your movements become slower and slower in contrast to his, which gains more and more strength. You want to continue, you want to bring you both to orgasm but your strength abandons you, making you collapse on top of him while you try to catch your breath, now, giving up.

"It's too much for you, right darling? Do you want me to take charge from now on? Of course I don't care, my love. All for my princess" And that's when he flips you over and puts you in a mating press position to reach deeper inside you, your legs on his shoulders but spread enough to let him lie on top of you.

The power with which he fucks you in that position is such that, in your delirium induced by such pleasure to which he is subjecting you, it makes you want more than ever for him to penetrate your poor and abused cervix.

Is that possible? You don't know. If it were, will it hurt? Sure. Yunho is big, too big; there's no possible way that doesn't hurt. Will you like it? More than probable.

"You did so well, princess, looking so hot being in charge" His hips don't stop still for a second, his mission now is to drill your cervix until not a single hint of strength remains in his body "But there's nothing better than how I always turn you a crying flushed mess, uhm? Moaning my name at the top of your lungs, having you completely at my mercy".

#ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho #ateez yunho

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roosterforme · 2 months ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's patience pays off in the form of finally getting to be intimate with his wife. Neither of you quite know how to handle Rose's first day of daycare, and a simple email reminds him of something long forgotten.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When Bradley set the alarm on his phone for exactly six weeks after Rose was born, he meant it as a joke more than anything else. There wasn't a day where the two of you weren't both up between midnight and one in the morning, feeding and burping the baby so she could make it through the rest of the night. You were just pulling an old tee shirt over your lovely tits and getting back in bed when the alarm started blaring.

"Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley held his phone up for you to take a look. The alarm was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum. You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter.

"It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

Bradley held out his arm so you could get cozy and curl up on his chest, and you were there in an instant. But your hand was resting lower on his abs than usual. His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

Your words were accompanied by your hand sliding lower, and Bradley grunted your name. "Are you serious?" It was late, but he was already in the mood, cock getting hard as you nudged him with your knee. "Please be serious."

He swore your voice was the hottest thing he'd ever heard as you whispered, "I'm serious," before slipping your hand inside his boxer briefs. He was bouncing against your palm, eager for your touch, and of course you didn't disappoint. Your fingers wrapped around his cock as you gasped. "You're really ready to go."

Six weeks didn't seem so bad in theory. He'd been separated from you for longer lengths of time for deployments in the past, but this had been so much worse. You were always right in front of him in various states of undress with milk dripping from your tits. How was he supposed to be normal now?

He was sweating as he whispered, "I'm always ready to go for you." You met his gaze, licked your lips and leaned down to suck on his cock, but he had to stop you. He wouldn't last ten seconds in this state. "No, no, no, please," he rasped, tugging on you gently until you were straddling his waist and your lips were hovering over his. "I really want to feel your pussy."

Your lips brushed against his as you said, "Whatever you want, Roo," while his cock hung out of his underwear and tapped against your core. You ducked your head and rubbed your wetness against his tip as you murmured, "I just hope this still feels good for you."

Before he could respond, you guided yourself down around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. You bottomed out with your soft hands braced against his chest, and he had to hold you in place by your hips as he panted, "Holy shit." He opened his eyes to find you perched atop him with an apprehensive look on your face while his cock was buried deep in your pussy. "There's a strong possibility I'm going to finish in less than a minute. Just putting that out there right now."

You shrugged and asked, "But does it feel good?"

God, he wanted to reassure you that you were still the only thing he needed, but all he could do was guide you along slowly with his hands gripping your hips and moan, "Your pussy feels like heaven." Instantly, your mouth was on his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as you bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh, fuck!"

"I don't care how fast you cum," you whispered before licking his ear. "I just want it to be good for you."

The thing was, the worst day with you was still better than any day with anyone else, and sex was the same way. It was never not good. It was always what he wanted.

Just as he got one big hand on your ass and managed to roll you onto your back, he realized it was pretty much all over. He also reminded himself that a creampie was completely out of the question right now as he held your ankles up in the air and watched his cock slip in and out of your pussy while you giggled and moaned.

"Roo," you crooned softly, pulling that tee shirt up to reveal your enlarged tits, and Bradley had to yank himself free of your body with a snap of his hips. Barely in time, he jerked off onto your belly, and then you guided him closer by his shoulders and kissed him. "Wow. That was fast. You're never like this after a long deployment."

He knew he was blushing as he grunted, "I tried to warn you. Deployments are different somehow."

You kissed him between his sentences and played with his hair. "How are they different?"

He ran his nose along your cheek and whispered, "It's like, I've got some residual anger in my veins when I return home after they kept me away from you for so long. But after Rosie was born, it was all pure happiness. Nothing was going to hold back that orgasm, no matter what I did. You've been here with me the whole time, tempting me with little snacks like blowjobs and riding my leg, but I couldn't have the whole fucking meal until now."

"You're ridiculous," you giggled as he moved lower down your body, smiling at his cum on your rooster tattoo.

"I actually thought that was a pretty good analogy," he whispered before kissing your clit, and your giggles immediately faded into a whimper. "Now let me have dessert."

---------------------------

"Should we buy condoms?" you asked, making a shopping list on Sunday morning while Bradley flew Rose around the island like she was a fighter jet. You were heading back to work tomorrow, and Rose was starting daycare, and you wanted to have everything you'd need for the next week so you didn't have to keep running to the store.

Bradley paused and gave you a disgusted look. "Sweetheart. We don't use condoms. We used a condom exactly one time. The very first time we had sex. Since then, we haven't used condoms. Ever."

"It was just a suggestion," you said, holding up your hands in surrender.

"I don't want us to use condoms."

"I hear you, loud and clear," you told him, crossing that item off the shopping list immediately. "Then I guess I should fill my prescription for birth control."

Bradley lifted Rose a little higher and zoomed her around again before he said, "Only if you want to."

Now you were giving him a concerned look. "If you don't want to use condoms, then we need to do something."

He dipped Rose down almost to the floor before lifting her back up again and kissing her cheek. "We had sex about ten times in the past two days. I can just keep pulling out." Your silence eventually had him turning to look at you as he cradled the baby against his chest. "What?"

"That's just a ticking time bomb, Bradley. I'll pick up the pill tomorrow after work."

Then you spent the rest of the evening pumping and nursing Rose until it felt like your breasts were going to fall off. Bradley put her down in her crib while you packed two work lunches for the first time in what felt like ages. You got everything lined up on the counter for the morning, already a little antsy about running late for your first day back.

"You coming?"

Bradley was reaching for your hand as you plugged the iPad in on the counter so your parents could look at Rose essentially doing nothing and yet freak out about it over FaceTime for an hour tomorrow night.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

You thought he meant he was ready for bed, but he lured you into the bathroom where the tub was full and there were candles lit on the vanity.

"I thought we could take a bath together," he murmured, and you immediately started to undress. You hadn't taken a bath in months, and Bradley laughed as you practically dove into the water. He eased himself down into the tub with you, and you wrapped yourself around him. "So this was a good idea then?"

"The best idea," you sighed. "I missed this."

You could feel his lips on your forehead and hair as he stroked his rough fingers down your back beneath the water. "Are you excited to go back to work?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "Kind of missed Bickel and the lab, and I think I left a mess of folders on my desk that I forgot to clean up."

He was silent for a few seconds, the only sound was Tramp's claws tapping the tile as he walked around. "I'm a little nervous about Rose being in daycare."

"She'll be with Jeremiah," you reminded him. "I've heard so many good things about the daycare, Roo." You kissed along his Adam's apple and whispered, "But I love that you're nervous. You're such a good dad."

He groaned softly. "Just want my girls safe and happy."

"I just want my husband safe and happy."

Bradley tilted his head back and looked at you through narrowed eyes. He had his hands on your waist as he said, "I feel pretty safe right now. Happy, too. But you know what would make me even happier?"

Slowly, you eased your body away from his and straddled his hips beneath the water. "I think I do know," you whispered, reaching for his hands and guiding them up to your breasts. You were tired and sore, but his eyes positively lit up as he gave you a little squeeze.

A droplet of milk formed on your nipple as Bradley moaned, "You're too good to me." Then his lips met your nipple, swirling around as he sucked on you.

Maybe he wasn't the only one with the lactation kink. You threaded your fingers in his hair, tugging softly and whispering, "You're such a good daddy," until you were aching with need as his mouth grew more demanding. You held out as long as you could while he drained you, but eventually you whimpered his name, and he met your gaze.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you started to stand, licking your lips.

All you told him was, "Get ready to pull out again," before the two of you ended up fucking on the bath mat on the floor.

---------------------------

"Jesus," Bradley groaned when he climbed out of bed the next morning. His knees and back felt like he got hit by a bus as he watched you prance across the room as Rose started crying down the hall. "Fuck."

You straightened your glasses and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm almost thirty-eight," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. "I'm definitely too old to be having sex on the bathroom floor."

"You didn't complain about it at all last night when it was happening."

He watched you walk out of the room as he stretched. "Well, you got me there," he muttered to himself. A minute later, he wandered into the nursery where you were already feeding Rose, and he gave you both a kiss before going to the kitchen to start the coffee. He made you some avocado toast and inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then he burped the baby and got her dressed so you could eat.

"You're just so fucking cute," he whispered, kissing her bare belly as she cooed. "My god, you're adorable. You better behave for your first day of daycare. No flirting with all the little boys."

Then it really hit him that his daughter would be in daycare all day instead of with you. Once she was dressed, he picked her up and snuggled her against his chest as tears burned his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he called in sick today instead of having her start daycare the same day you went back to your lab. He felt strangely guilty about someone else playing with her all day.

"Bradley? You're not dressed yet."

You were standing in the doorway when he turned, and he was actually relieved to see you weren't wearing the maternity tent. "You look hot," he whispered, eyeing up your snug pants as you tucked your shirt in.

You groaned. "I need to lose like fifteen pounds. It looks lumpy." He wanted to argue with you, but you immediately said, "Get dressed so we aren't late."

Rose was just snuggling up for her post breakfast nap as he said, "I'm thinking about staying home today."

"No," you said, voice firm. "I knew you were going to do this, and I love you very much for it, but we need to get into our new work routine, and that includes daycare for Rose."

Bradley pouted as you pried the baby out of his hands and pushed him with your knee until he left the room. He got dressed and carried all of Rose's gear out to the red Bronco while you buckled her in. Then he buckled you in as well, and the three of you were on your way to base.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I should probably just retire."

"You can't," you told him calmly as he approached the guard gates. "You need another four years and two months to get your pension."

But you were all talk, because when the time came to actually leave Rose, you had tears in your eyes and one tracking along your cheek as you kissed her. Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug as you whispered, "Okay. I think you should retire, Roo."

He sighed and rubbed soft circles against your back as you finally let one of the daycare instructors take Rose, and then he silently walked you to your office door where you hugged him until he would almost certainly be late getting to the tower.

------------------------------

"You're back," Cat said, voice laced with relief as you walked into the lab with your computer.

"I'm back," you sighed. "Rose is in daycare."

To your extreme embarrassment, you started sobbing with your laptop slipping from your fingers. Cat took it and set it down on the counter and collected you in a hug, and you let yourself cry on her shoulder.

"I don't even know why I'm sad," you gasped. "I was looking forward to coming back to work."

"Mom hormones are stupid," Cat whispered. "And unpredictable. Just go with it."

So you did. You let yourself feel guilty and angry and confused until your tears tapered off. At least Bradley was feeling similarly today, and you knew it. Eventually you wiped at your cheeks on your own, but your breasts were already hurting again which made you realize Rose would need a bottle soon. You were sad you weren't the one who would be feeding her. You were going to have to pump in your office alone, and that made you even sadder.

"If there's an issue, someone from the daycare will call you," Cat said smoothly. "And you can always stop by at lunchtime to check on her."

You nodded and finally turned your computer on. "I know. It's just weird to be here when she's not."

"Try to enjoy the baby phase. Pretty soon you'll be looking for a reliable babysitter for nights and weekends just like I am," Cat murmured, sitting down next to you at her computer.

"Nope. I'm never going out again," you said, making her laugh. "What do you need a sitter for?"

She was silent for a few seconds, and you knew her well enough now to know you shouldn't press. You waited her out while you wiped your final stray tears away and entered your credentials into your computer. "I need someone to watch Jer for my promotion ceremony."

You gasped. "Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yeah. This Saturday."

"Why didn't you text me? We can watch him!"

"Well... I need a sitter for some additional evenings, too." Her dark eyes were more vulnerable than usual. "Jer and I are moving in with Jake. And I need time to pack our things. I just decided yesterday."

You had to stifle a scream as you gaped at her, wide eyed. This is exactly what Jake wanted, but you'd been afraid he'd never get it. He wanted the marriage, the step-dad duties, all of it, and this seemed like a step in that direction. But Cat was so stubborn, you forced yourself to remain calm right now.

"Well, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Bradley and I are available if you'd like to drop Jeremiah off at our house on Saturday."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, typing away on her computer with a smile on her face.

By lunchtime, you were so antsy to see what Rose was up to, you were practically running toward the daycare building with your sandwich in your hands. If you ate while you checked on her, you'd be able to make it back in time for your group meeting. But someone else was rushing for the double doors at the same time, and you bumped into a firm body.

"I'm so sorry," you said, looking up at him before bursting into laughter when you recognized your own husband.

"You couldn't wait until the end of the day either?" he asked, ushering you inside, slightly out of breath.

"No," you confirmed, "I couldn't. Like I can't stop wondering what she's doing? And did she finish her bottles? Is she still hungry? Did she nap?"

Bradley groaned before kissing you hard on the lips. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all day."

When one of the daycare teachers opened the door and asked if she could help you with something, both of you blurted out at the same time, "We want to see our daughter."

----------------------------

Bradley thought you both did pretty well today. You and he made it almost four hours before having to run over to check on Rose, and now he was taking the fastest shower he could in the locker room so he could go back and pick her up for the evening.

"There's my Nugget," he said with a sigh as soon as he picked her up from the play mat where she was having tummy time. He swore she smiled as soon as he kissed her soft cheek, and he snuggled her against his chest.

"Do you want to put her in the stroller?" the woman who ran the program asked him, but he shook his head.

"I like holding her," he whispered, giving Rose one more kiss before picking up the diaper bag and stroller in his free hand. You told him you'd meet him at the Bronco, so he very carefully made his way there with his daughter cradled in one arm. The parking garage was clearing out, and he set everything on the asphalt so he could unlock the doors.

He looked up when he heard your voice, only to find you running down the aisle toward Jake's car where the other man was also unlocking his doors. You threw your arms around him, and Jake caught you in his embrace. Bradley was not even slightly concerned at the high pitched screech you let out as he buckled Rose carefully into her car seat, wrapping his fingers around her tiny hand and giving her a little kiss.

Then he tossed everything else into the back and waited for you while he checked the messages on his phone. Most of the emails were just junk, but he did see an ad for Mother's Day.

"Oh. Shit." He hadn't celebrated that holiday since he was in high school. Other than signing whichever card you picked out for your own mom before you mailed it, he hadn't given the holiday any thought at all. And that was sad, because it was an important one. "Rosie, we need to do something special for Mommy," he muttered. "We can talk about it later, okay? Shh, here she comes."

"Roo!" you gasped, running for his arms the way you had Jake's, but unlike Jake, he got a kiss. "Guess what Cat told me today."

He leaned down for another kiss, making you smile before he said, "She and Jeremiah came to their senses, and they're leaving Jake?"

"No! They're moving in with him!"

"That poor woman," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arms around you just as Jake drove past, flipping him off before waving. "She could do so much better."

"Be nice, Bradley."

But he wasn't really listening any longer as you ran your hand down along his abs and patted the top of his gym shorts. Then suddenly your hand was gone as you climbed in the backseat with Rose and said, "I think I'll ride back here with her."

He took the seat belt from your hand and frowned. "Who's going to keep me company then?" But you ignored him in favor of the baby, and he couldn't blame you one bit.

"I missed you today," you told her, tickling her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her forehead, and Bradley buckled your seatbelt. When he started driving, you said, "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy so I can pick up my birth control."

"Absolutely," he replied, relieved you seemed to have dropped the condom conversation. "And when we get home, we can test it out before I make dinner."

----------------------------

He gets a max score for being eager, but he loses points for thinking he could handle the bathroom floor. I need him to make Mother's Day so special in the next chapter. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

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