#awesome physique | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feeder86 · 5 months

Text

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

671 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 19 days

Text

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 1 - Round Two | ‘Act II’

word count - 10 k

“Erm... yeah, that’s a bit of me. Big follow.” You giggled, plucking the phone out of your friend Whitney’s hand admiring an abnormally pretty boy she was showing you on the screen.

“Right?” She laughed with you spreading her two fingers on the screen to zoom in on the boy’s perfect physique. Whitney’s dad spent every day he could watching football. It was on in their house twenty four hours a day. He was an awesome dad to two girls you called your best friends but you always sensed that it pained him he couldn’t have had a son to give it a go in an international football league. He could care less about the American MLS teams but that’s a story for another time. Previously, you really hadn’t cared about your best friend’s fathers interest in the sport. Your own family was into footie, your brother, your dad, but again, you didn’t really buy in. That said, if someone asked you on the street who you supported, you’d have an answer, you knew the high level things going on in the world of football.

“Like okkkay besties! I’m into this.” You cheekily cooed. Your disinterest suddenly became a big interest when Whitney showed you a photo of two boys that played for the England international team. One was cute... pretty, in fact. You’d say he gave off a sort of a more demure vibe in comparison. Whitney was hooked; her dad was an avid Liverpool supporter and by turn Whitney was. Apparently her dad pointed Trent Alexander-Arnold out to her during a regular season match earlier. The other boy in said photo, well, that was a bit of you.

“They’re so pretty.” Whitney sighed, taking a longer look at Trent’s face. “Hello. Earth to Y/N.” She called for you after your eyes began to glaze over wishing your thumb hovering over his happy trail was able to actually feel the muscular abs you’d been actually drooling over beneath it.

“Sorry but he’s so hot.” You laughed with a shake of the head trying to snap out of your lustful haze. Whitney hadn’t even said their names but frankly, you didn’t care. You just might support England in this tournament. Your brother and dad would kill you but you’d do it for a man that looked like this. You were French, that would arguably be seen as treason in your household but he was so good looking they’d have to understand. Your dad would tell you you were French the same way Whitney’s dad would tell her she was British. You both were not born in your respective native lands but your dads were from, you had dual citizenships but no accents. That said, you did speak the language. Your family had actually lived in Paris for a few years before you went to university and met Whitney.

“I know I figured I’d share.” Whitney smiled at you with a bob of the head happy with her recent Instagram follow as she grabbed her phone back from you.

“Thank you Mr. Smith. Who knew he had such good taste in men.” You teased taking her phone back once more to actually look at the instagram handle above the photo that had you in such a trance. ‘Jude Bellingham’ you read the name in your head in a silly British accent that probably wasn’t all that accurate. You didn’t know a thing about him. You hadn’t heard either of the boys even speak but he just gave off such British vibes and it made you laugh a little.

“Man of many talents, l suppose.” Whitney snatched her phone back and went back to Trent’s Instagram, scrolling through photos she’d seen at least a hundred times by now but she wanted to see them one hundred more.

Flash forward a couple years, a lot of drinks, a blossomed relationship for Whitney, and unfortunately a few more tears than you would’ve hoped later and you found yourself in a Greecian club on a holiday with the two English footballers and their friends. How? You wondered the same thing but Whitney seemed to have fate on her side. Although, she didn’t seem to want to share any because a night ago you could have used some when you fucked her now boyfriend, Trent’s brother, so it didn’t really come as welcomed news when you found out the lustful torch you carried for your instagram crush, Jude, was in front of you in real life now burning. It had been a long couple of hours navigating the waters of two men in a confined space.

“I like this…” Jude cooed, slipping his fingers under the strap of your red dress. “Would look better on my floor though.” He whispered a line you’d heard too many times in your ear despite the loud thump of the bass in the club. It should’ve put you off. It should’ve been an eye roll moment except it wasn’t. There was something about the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, the way he touched you. All night he had you in a trance. It made you feel attended to in the least cheesy and cliche way. You’d flirted earlier in the evening when you’d been introduced after dinner but you were proper close now and the game had begun. You were not an easy lay… well it depended on the day and how bad you wanted to have sex. Regardless, you liked the game with boys. It was fun. You knew you were attractive and you knew that came with many perks like lines of men interested in you and the only way to make it slightly more entertaining and fun and maybe sift out the trash, although some always managed to seep through, you’d test them. Play games, flirt mercilessly and then leave high and dry, you’d make them buy your drinks while you played with their hearts and their hands dragging them up and down your figure.

“You can’t put a dress like this on the floor, Jude.” You quipped back, placing your hand over his and guiding it down your body and the sheer beaded fishnet fabric. It was a gorgeous Roberta Einer mini dress that you’d been itching to wear somewhere but the way the lights were reflecting off it now and your newly tanned skin barely hidden under it, you knew tonight was the perfect debut for it.

“Alright, I’ll hang it up just for you.” He gently whispered into your ear. He wasn’t offering to do you some sort of grand favor but the way he said it made it sound like you were meant to be grateful and you didn’t like that he had made such a subtle move to take the upper hand. So you cut the line.

“Okay, thank you.” You brushed him off with a short smile as if he had handed you a coffee over a counter.

“No problem. As long as it’s still coming off.” Jude was persistent though. He was sweet and smooth. His scent was encircling you and keeping you hostage. His woody musk built walls around you, caging you in. His big soft hands on your exposed skin acting as shackles. You were trapped.

“We shouldn’t.” You muttered haphazardly as he ducked his face to be in front of yours. He gently guided you to step back against a wall in a corridor of the club. You thought you’d get some air and free yourself from the thick tension being near Jude but he followed you. You two were like magnets. There was something there and you weren’t sure why it felt a little more dangerous than just lust. He placed his massive hand on your waist, squeezing you just a little before letting his hand drop down to your hip.

“But we could.” He cooed with the cheekiest smile you might have ever seen in your life and arguably the prettiest too. You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. You hated that he had you like this. He moved closer and dragged his lips down your neck, kiss after kiss, running his tongue along your warm skin. It was like he was a live wire jump starting your whole system. The tension was palpable and you wanted more of it but not that easily, of course. You knew who Jude was. You were shown his instagram obviously by Whitney and if the millions of Instagram followers weren’t enough of an indicator it was his insistent presence in the media. A ad campaign, a dramatized story in the Daily Mail, a shirtless instagram post, you would’ve loved to say you did notice it all but you were very aware and embarrassingly you welcomed his ever presence on your phone when you were miles apart. Right now though you weren’t sure there was even a centimeter separating you. Despite knowing what you knew, you were not going to be complacent to the great Jude Bellingham. Tonight was meant to be a level playing field.

“Your first night out?” You questioned him. Honestly, the only reason you were asking this is because Whitney had made a point before you’d even left for this holiday that you not ruin it all making a rash hook up night one… except you already had. You slept with her boyfriend’s brother which in both his and your defense was good sex. It was fun, rough, drunk, orgasmic and unattached just the way you liked it. He wasn’t exactly off the table though in your mind. He was cute, you had control of the situation and his room was next to yours at the villa you were staying in. Like you said, it was good sex. Although you weren’t going to say no if Jude pushed and you hoped he did but you weren’t exactly closing off other options either. You were on holiday. No one would get hurt, they were twenty some year old men in Greece, you couldn’t imagine commitment was on anyone’s minds. You didn’t kiss Jude in the corridor even though it was the only thought populating in your mind. Jude hated that your game of teasing drew him in more. He liked to be in charge. He liked to run the show and he knew he was losing ground when you moved past him to get back to the ropped off private area in the club with everyone else. Jude was slick as you made your way back and moved quickly in front of you to sit down first. He pulled you down to sit on his lap and you faked an eye roll as if Jude’s persistence was unwelcomed but it was anything but. As the night rolled on you got drunker and his touches got more courageous. In the dim light of the nightclub, the bass thrummed like a heartbeat in the air, creating a pulsing rhythm that matched the intoxicating sway of the crowd. The atmosphere was thick with a heady mix of laughter, music, and the sweet scent of bottles and bottles of Don Julio 1942. You stayed settled on his lap, warmth enveloped you, igniting a spark that sent shivers down your spine. His strong hands rested gently on your hips, grounding you while the world around you blurred into a swirling tapestry of colors. With each sip of your drink, the world grew more vivid, the laughter more melodic, and the closeness between you more electric. Your heart raced, not just from the alcohol but from the magnetic pull of his gaze.

“Just want to pull this right up and…” He leaned in closer, his breath a tantalizing whisper against your ear, sending tiny jolts of excitement through you. The rich timbre of his voice wrapped around you like velvet, drawing you deeper into this intoxicating moment, letting his hand on your thigh go higher and higher pulling the hem of your dress with it. His pinky finger able to ghost over your panty clad pussy.

“Stop…” You giggled, meaning exactly the opposite, grabbing his hand to halt any further movement. This was a dangerous game. You were both on the verge of blacking out. As the night wore on, the music wrapped you both in its seductive embrace, and every glance he stole felt like a secret promise. You found yourself laughing freely, each sound mingling with the pulsating rhythm, feeling utterly alive under the spell of his charm. The lights danced across Jude’s features, enhancing the sharp lines of his jaw and the smirk that hinted at playful mischief. The more you drank, the more you adored him—the way he held you, the way he listened with rapt attention, as if you were the only person in the room. You could feel the warmth of connection building like the crescendo of a song, enveloping you in a cocoon of desire and vulnerability. The laughter faded into a soft hum, and in that moment, you knew you were falling—not just into drunken bliss but into something deeper, something intoxicatingly real. Time slipped away, lost in the rhythm of the night, and as you rested your head against his shoulder, a tender smile graced your lips. Similarly a boyish, lopsided grin plastered to his face. A darkness flooded your mind. You. blacked. out. You thought you had a pretty okay tolerance but maybe your stature didn’t exactly match the 6’2 man you were trying to keep up with shot for shot. 42 was starting to taste like water and you were pretty sure no one had an accent anymore.

You had a blurry memory of his lips brushing against yours, gentle yet urgent, igniting a fire that danced within you. As the vibrant strobe lights cast fleeting shadows across his face, you felt a magnetic pull, drawing you closer into a world that existed solely for the two of you. Each brush of his lips sent shivers racing through your body, igniting every nerve ending in a delicious wave of ecstasy. The heat of his body pressed against you, a tantalizing reminder of the summer night outside, while his hands tangled in your hair and traced the curve of your back, urging you deeper into his embrace. The music swelled around you, a backdrop of heavy bass that mirrored the pounding of your heart, creating a bubble of exhilaration and desire. Time seemed to dissolve as the world outside faded, leaving only the taste of his kiss—sweet and intoxicating, mingling with the warm summer air that danced around you. Your bodies moved in sync, a rhythm as intoxicating as the melody that surrounded you. With each kiss, the world blurred into soft hues of color, a vivid painting of passion and spontaneity. The tender urgency of your connection deepened, exploring uncharted territories as hands explored, pulling each other closer, savoring the moment as if time itself stood still. It was a wild, breathless escape, filled with promises whispered between breaths, where the pulse of the music became the heartbeat of your desires, leaving you both breathless, alive, and utterly entwined.

The morning light peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the disheveled bed. You stirred, feeling the weight of a night filled with laughter and passion settle heavily on your limbs. A dull throb pulsed in your temples, each beat a reminder of the revelry that had unfolded the night before. As your eyes fluttered open, they fell upon the figure beside you… Jude. His chiseled silhouette half-hidden beneath rumpled sheets, radiating an effortless charm even in the quiet aftermath of the night. The scent of his skin lingered in the air, a rich, intoxicating mix of cologne and the faint hint of warmth from your shared adventures. As you attempted to piece together the fragments of last night, the tableau before you sent a rush of sensations coursing through you. There he was, tangled in the sheets, sunkissed skin glistening slightly in the morning light, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You could have sworn he looked like a work of art, perfectly imperfect in a way that made your heart flutter unexpectedly.

“I have to get to my room.” You whispered to Jude with a pounding headache, not entirely sure what happened but you were sore and naked so you had a good idea. Your heart was racing praying to see some remnant or clue that protection was used. The world around you felt hazy, your thoughts muddled from too much tequila and laughter, yet the sight of him brought warmth and a flicker of exhilaration to your chest. You shifted slightly, the crisp sheets whispering against your skin, and he stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours—a lazy, sultry gaze that ignited memories of stolen kisses and whispered secrets shared in low-lit corners of the nightclub.

“Good morning to you to." He laughed tiredly. "What’d you say?” His voice was low and smooth, like velvet draping over your senses, both teasing and inviting. A smile crept across his lips, illuminating his features and crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made your heart race. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, feeling the pull of a connection that thrummed between you, more potent than the remnants of your hangover.

“I said, I have to get to my room.” You smiled as you tentatively lifted your hand to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, the soft rustle of sheets surrounded you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt deliciously intoxicating. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, an acknowledgment of last night's escapades, layered with the thrill of unexpected mornings. In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in warmth and longing, a beautiful aftermath that felt fleeting yet infinitely precious.

“Why…” Jude groaned, letting his eyes close again. With every heartbeat, it became clear: the night had woven your lives together, if only for an ephemeral moment. And though uncertainty lingered like a sweet aftertaste, the promise of the unknown shimmered in the air.

“Everyone can’t know I slept in here.” You whispered again with some urgency. Image was important to you. Sleep with whoever you want, absolutely. Let people know that? Absolutely not.

“Whyyy…” Jude kept on his childish theatrics with another groan. He outstretched his arm and draped it around your waist as insurance you wouldn’t leave. This was not a rare indulgence for you but it would cling to you like the sheets twisted around your body currently were, all day if you didn’t get out of there. The lavish villa room was stunning and an opulent blend of modern luxury and understated, but it did little to distract from Jude. His hair messy in a way he’d hate yet it formed a careless halo on the pillow beneath him.

“I’ll see you later.” You giggled pulling down the sheet and slapping his ass trying to make light of you not being able to remember anything and remind him you were waking up naked in case he didn’t either. You moved in a way that was calculated after that, you’d done this before. You have a good night, a great night in fact, great sex, although usually you prefer to remember a semblance of it… god damnit where is a condom wrapper… literally anything! But you’d done this before and you knew you had to move quickly as if your very presence in Jude’s room might unravel the meticulously crafted image you’d built. The mesh of your mini dress, now crumpled on the foot of the bed, tells the story of a night you could barely recall. You did recall Jude saying he’d hang the dress up but that went out the window and evidently so did your morality when it came to safe sex. It was a night you both dreaded and longed to remember.

“Ow fuck, Y/N.” Jude complained reaching lazily to pull the covers back up to cover himself. You laughed a little at his poor morning attitude but got distracted when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It reflected a woman who was both powerful and vulnerable, your usual poise slightly fractured. You couldn’t even attempt to restore any dignity to your appearance. This was simply the job for a real shower.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” You mocked him a little, coming and kissing near Jude’s ear softly with a hum.

“Yeah, fuck.” He complained, burying his face in a pillow.

“Aw, I’ll remember that when I’m laying concealer over your bite marks before breakfast.” You teased running your hand over a bruise you could clearly make out on your collarbone. There was no use trying to restore your usual pristine facade. There’s no hiding the telltale signs: the smudged mascara around your eyes, the bruised lips, the scent of him lingering on your skin. “It was good though.” You sympathetically smiled at him. You felt bad. Why did you suddenly feel a tinge of guilt and softness towards him? No idea. You weren’t sure. You snapped your eyes off him to hopefully help break the emotions you were starting to feel.

“Yeah? What you had wanted?” Jude opened his eyes again and smiled sleepily at you. You glanced back at his chiseled features softened in the haze of his tiredness. A part of you felt so drawn to him. So you took a seat on the side of the bed running your hands over his warm skin.

“Erm… don’t know, I might need one more go just to make sure it was as good as I remember.” You lied. Why did you lie? You weren’t sure. What had this boy done to you? You were having a hell of a hangover and you were starting to wonder if the tequila from last night somehow disregulated or fucked with the limbic system in your brain.

“Mmmm C’mere.” Jude pulled you down into a kiss and you let him. It was warm, soft, slow, and sleepy and yet it had you trying not to moan into his mouth it was turning you on so much.

“I have to go.” You sympathetically pulled away with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah but you’ve got me hard now.” Jude flashed you a conniving grin hoping that his pretty face could convince you to stay. It almost worked. Unfortunately his face didn’t outweigh your fear of being caught out. Two men in three or so days wasn’t a fact you’d be broadcasting but you weren’t exactly complaining either.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You gave him an annoyingly cheeky grin. Jude was upset that he still managed to find it cute despite him being painfully hard now. He sighed and grabbed your arm before you could get far. You looked at him innocently not sure what he needed because you weren’t going to stay. He kissed your knuckles and then rolled over in the bed. That was it. You weren’t sure what to make of it so you just smiled with a hum stepping away, leaving behind a world of temptation and chaos as you quietly gathered the remnants of your dignity and fragments of your outfit from last night. You grabbed Jude’s shirt of the floor and pulled it over you. You weren’t about to put back on your dress from last night. You were missing an earring as well but you’d find it later. It wasn’t a proud moment as you slipped out the door cautiously and tiptoed to your bedroom, heels in hand, your bare feet peeling off the marble floors of the villa, wincing at the noise with every step, terrified someone might see you. You went to the en suite of your room and took off his shirt. You looked at it and smiled until you caught yourself in the mirror smiling like an idiot at it. There was a slight smudge of your lipstick color on the collar. It smelt like him and you just wanted to put it back on and go to bed but instead you turned on the shower. In a state of delusion and a hangover haze you held the shirt in your hand and cheekily took a nude in the mirror sending it to Jude.

‘To help with your problem. xx’

Jude threw his head back on his pillow with another groan as he opened the message. He sorted himself out after that thanks to your photos assistance and memories of last night before he went back to sleep. You smiled when you saw he responded after your shower… until you read it.

‘You’re unreal, angel. Liked it better when I was cumming inside you though and not just to the thought of you. Maybe later? xx.’

“Oh my god!” You gasped out loud dropping your phone. It fell on your toe and you thought you were going to cry. It hurt so bad. You grabbed your phone and wrapped your towel around you a bit tighter and ran to your bed and fell face first. “I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.” You repeated over and over again. You were haunted by the memory of last night you couldn’t remember, and the man down the hall, clinging to you like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake, a reminder that even the most perfect facades have cracks.

“I need to talk to you immediately.” You hushly but harshly whispered to Whitney in the kitchen later that morning gripping her arm so tight she might have a bruise later. She was sitting on Trent’s lap who gave you a curious yet concerned face. You just smiled and yanked Whitney off him pulling her all the way down the hall to your room. “Look at me…” You snapped peeling your shirt off to reveal the remnants of your night with Jude. Her eyes went wide and a cheeky grin began to pull on her face.

“Can you give me a little more context because I need to know if I should be applauding someone’s handiwork or if something happened because you look like someone attacked you.” Whitney kept her smile knowing it wasn’t the later.

“Whit… I don’t even remember it and I think he does. I lied and said I did and then I was a fucking idiot and sent him a nude this morning because I apparently willingly opt for chaos and he jerked off to it and said he…” You picked your arms up to air quote. “‘Liked it better when he was cumming inside me’ so that’s fucking insane.” Whitney’s jaw dropped at your confessional.

“Okay.. erm it’s fine. Sit down, sit down, sit down.” She beckoned you over and you sat next to her on your bed letting your body fall limp into her lap. “It’s fine. Honestly, we’ll sort it. A few questions for you. Erm… one, who are we talking about?” She asked you gently, running her hand over your head. That question alone made you feel dumb. To Whitney’s credit, it was a fair question.

“Jude… I woke up with Jude this morning.” You whined covering your face with your hands embarrassed to admit it.

“Y/N, its okay. Second question, you wanted to right? Like you’re not upset because he… you know. Like this was consensual?” She sheepishly asked you. You softly smiled at her with a shake of the head. Whitney was always so mindful and gentle. She did this with everything. She needed to make sure everything was okay so she could properly help. She wanted to make sure you were okay and she was probably the only person in your life that when she asked that, you knew she meant it and honestly wanted to listen. She really was the sweetest and had good intentions but consent wasn’t an issue here. “Okay, as long as you’re fine in that regard. Well, you should ask Jude like if he actually did finish inside and we’ll go from there. I mean… we’ve handled this before.” She giggled a little recalling many of antics between the pair of you from university to date. “The nude is whatever. Don’t worry. He’s seen you naked. It's not exactly like you have a body anyone would be ashamed of either. The photo won’t go anywhere and if you liked him or the sex, I mean it’s not a bad person to add to your body count.” She cheekily smiled at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. Her smile was infectious and it made you feel better just seeing it. “Jude is nicer than you’d think so just talk to him. You two can just have a pretty person conversation.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Do you want to get your joke in now or will you give me the morning?” You laughed, running your hands over your face again. Your relationship with Whitney was like any good friendship it was filled with love and support, a lot of laughter and amazing memories, but humor was a pillar for you two. When things got hard if you didn’t laugh about it you’d cry.

“Eh… When you least expect it. Today though.” She laughed. “To be fair, you looked really good last night. I didn’t think you’d be going to sleep alone.” Whitney cooed as you sat up. You picked up your phone and opened your messages with Jude and deleted them for your own sanity. You couldn’t have your mistakes just sitting there. “You’re supposed to say ‘yeah, Whit you looked good last night too, did you go home with anyone?” She teased bumping her shoulder against yours drawing you out of your moment of embarrassment rereading Jude’s message.

“Yes, yes, Whitney. You’re gorgeous and Trent loves you. You guys probably fucked four times yesterday so forgive me if I didn’t add to Trent’s chorus of chants of how beautiful you are.” You teased her dropping your cheek to rest on her shoulder. Whitney deserved Trent’s high praise. She was stunning, you just were a little caught out over your mistakes.

“It’ll be fine. I promise. Honest. Just talk to him, okay?” Whitney snapped back to a moment of seriousness and reassurance wrapping her arms around you tight. You don’t know what you’d do without her. She’d had this conversation with you more times than you cared to admit.

“Hey… Can I talk to you?” You embarrassingly asked Jude, coming up sheepishly beside him.

“Yeah, course but only if you help me with suncream.” He cheekily answered you, handing you the bottle. His tanned muscular physique in front of you had you momentarily forget what you even were coming to ask him. You hated that it all made your heart falter but in all seriousness, you needed to find out what happened so you took the bottle from him and squeezed it into the palm of your hand.

“Erm… so this is embarrassing, like I’m actually so embarrassed to say this but I don’t exactly remember the latter half of our night so can you just.. Ugh.. like… did you actually cum inside me?” You muttered out the words letting your face fall against his bicep. The sunscreen just waiting in your palms. You pressed your forehead against his arm muscle mortified unable to do anything else. You couldn’t look at him. Your words were quiet and mumbled.

“You were that drunk, Y/N!? That’s so bad. Fuck…” Jude was shocked. He pulled you off and held you by your shoulders in front of him looking directly into your eyes. “Okay, erm, first off I did.” He confirmed and your face dropped when he told you the fact you were hoping he was going to say wasn’t true. “Y/N… Y/N… hold on. I mean.” Jude started to laugh and your eyes widened in confusion and terror. “I mean, you don’t have to worry. I… or it was in your ass so you can’t get pregnant from that if that’s what your worried about, yeah?” Jude flashed you a devastatingly handsome and equally cheeky smile.

“Oh… my god. Are you serious right now?” If you weren’t embarrassed before you certainly were now. You wanted to just disappear.

“Yeah but I’m not really concerned about that. Are you serious you don’t remember? I feel awful that I was having fun last night with you now.” Jude admitted to you with no an unintentionally cute pout. His mind was racing panicking that he had somehow done something wrong but you didn’t think that at all. You were in your own head about how self-conscious you currently felt but also a little bit by how sweet he was.

“You had fun last night?” You asked him more reserved than you would’ve wanted to. You wanted to be confident in front of this person who felt almost larger than life but you couldn’t help but feel a little smitten by him, a shyness washing over you you didn’t often feel. You tried to move last night's antics into the back of your mind. Both he and your ‘cool’ facades were crumbling. You both clearly cared.

“Y/N, you're fit. Of course, I had fun. It was amazing. I just feel horrible you don’t remember because visuals aside it was just a fun night in general. Honest, it was great. If you’re interested, I can give you a refresh?” Jude cooed, running his hands up and down the sides of your arms in a way that somehow managed to be both comforting and sensual. His cheeky smile returning. You did as he asked and helped him with the suncream and both of you were plagued with memories of last night. “Am I wrong for thinking we have to pack condoms for the boat?” Jude whispered to you as you applied the lotion on so that no one else could hear. You wanted to laugh but you bit your lip and rolled your eyes instead.

“Yes, yes you are.” You spoke at a normal volume as you turned around to look directly at him. Funny he was asking to use condoms now considering you couldn't find any in the bedroom this morning.

“Oh, okay so you want to do round two, just do what we did last night, yeah?” Jude gave you a smug smile and slyly squeezed at your waist. Your jaw slacked at his cheek. No, you definitely weren't planning on anymore anal sex on this trip. That was a drunk indiscretion you typically preferred to save for a serious boyfriend, if that.

"No! We’re just not fucking on the boat. Full stop.” You smiled at him really having a hard time trying not to laugh but you managed spinning on your heel away from him and jetting off to find Whitney and your sexiest bikini just to really rub it in his face you weren’t fucking him on this boat. Although a part of you kind of wanted to but you'd hold your ground.

For the rest of the day though, suncream became your secret way to touch each other all day. The sun was already climbing high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the shimmering waters of Greece. The yacht bobbed gently in the marina, waiting for its passengers to board. You stood on the deck, holding a bottle of sunscreen, watching the sunlight dance on the sea’s surface. You could feel the excitement of the day ahead—a day spent out on the open water with Jude, a day of freedom and escape. Jude emerged from below deck, a grin on his face, wearing a pair of dark Prada sunglasses and Bottega swim trunks. His skin was already kissed by the sun from the days you’d spent together here, but there was something about the way the light hit him now, that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, you got that suncream?” Jude called out as he approached you. He took the bottle from your hand, your fingers brushing just slightly, sending a small jolt through you.

“Course” you replied with a playful smile. “Don’t want you getting any sun damage out here. You know, we wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” You teased.

“I don’t know, I think it could be a good look for me. Adds a little rugged charm.” Jude chuckled, shaking his head. He squeezed some sunscreen into his hand, rubbing it over his chest and arms in quick, careless strokes. You raised an eyebrow.

“I think you missed a few spots,” you teased, stepping closer to him. Your hand lightly grazed his back as you took the bottle from him. “Let me help.” Jude smirked, enjoying the attention.

“Only if it means getting your hands on me,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, adding a teasing tone.

“Oh, stop,” you said with a laugh, trying to sound casual as your hands spread sunscreen across his back. Your fingers moved slowly, deliberately, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch. “You’re lucky I’m nice enough to do this for you.”

“Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Jude replied, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of your hands on his skin. “I’ve got the best view and the best company. And now, a free suncream application. What more could a guy ask for?”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” You warned softly with a giggle, your hands moving to his shoulders, your touch more lingering now. “I still have to get my own back, you know.”

“I’d be more than happy to return the favor,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “In fact, I insist.” Jude turned his head slightly, peering over his shoulder at you. You felt a flutter in your chest but kept your expression playful. Jude took the suncream and poured some into his hands, stepping behind you. His hands were warm as they gently spread the lotion across your shoulders, his touch firm yet tender. You closed your eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine despite the warmth of the sun. “Are you sure you trust me?” Jude murmured close to your ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless. “But I guess I’ll have to find out.” Jude’s hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your knees feel weak. You could feel his breath on your neck, the closeness of him making your head spin.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you,” Jude whispered, his hands still working the sunscreen into your skin but moving slower, more deliberately. “You know that, right?”You nodded, your eyes still closed, leaning back slightly into his touch.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Jude’s hands finally reached the small of your back, lingering there for a moment before he let out a deep breath and stepped away, breaking the spell. “Alright, I think you’re all set,” he said, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the warmth in his voice. You turned to face him, your cheeks slightly flushed but smiling.

As the yacht continued to glide smoothly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, everyone gathered around a large table for lunch. The sun was high, warming the deck, and the soft sound of waves provided a calming background melody. Plates of fresh seafood, salads, and cold drinks were spread out, and the air was filled with the scent of the sea. You were seated directly across from Jude, your little yellow Louis Vuitton bikini doing little to cover your sun-kissed skin. Every time you moved, the sunlight would catch on you, making you glow in a way that Jude found impossibly distracting. He tried to focus on his plate, spearing a piece of grilled octopus, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. You caught him looking more than once, your lips curving into a coy smile every time your eyes met.

“So, Jude,” you said suddenly, drawing his attention fully to you. You were leaning back in your chair, stretching in a way that made your body arch just slightly. “You enjoying yourself?” Your tone was light, but there was a playful glint in your eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. Jude swallowed hard, feeling the heat creep up the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m having a great time,” he replied, trying to sound casual. But his voice betrayed him with a slight huskiness. “How about you?” Your smile widened at his question, your fingers toyed with the rim of your wine glass.

“Oh, I’m having a wonderful time,” you said, your voice soft and teasing. “The company’s great… and the view’s not bad either.” Trent and Whitney exchanged a knowing glance but continued eating, choosing not to interrupt the obvious tension building between Jude and you. Whitney smirked, clearly amused by the situation though. Jude shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool.

“Glad you’re enjoying the view,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes betrayed the way his pulse quickened every time you moved. You lifted a piece of fruit to your lips, biting into it slowly. You licked a drop of juice from your lower lip, watching Jude intently.

“I could say the same to you,” you murmured, your voice low and flirtatious. Jude’s grip tightened around his fork. It was becoming harder to focus on anything but you but he was annoyed by your cheek. Annoyed that he felt like he was loosing this conversation.

“Yeah, well,” he began, attempting to match your lighthearted tone, “it’s hard not to when you keep… putting on a show.” Jude quipped trying to regain ground. You feigned innocence, your eyes going wide.

“A show?” You repeated, your tone laced with playful mockery. “I’m just eating my lunch, Jude. What show?” You asked. Whitney lightly elbowed Trent, a small laugh escaping her.

“Maybe Jude’s just not used to being distracted during a meal,” she added, winking at you. You laughed softly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jude. Am I distracting you?” You purred, leaning forward slightly so your bikini dipped a little lower, tits out. Jude’s throat felt dry, and he took a sip of his drink to steady himself all he could think about was you in his bed last night and getting that stupid bikini off you now.

“Just a little,” he muttered, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his composure. “But I’m managing.” You raised an eyebrow, your smile teasing.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to suffer,” you said, drawing out the last word. “Maybe I should… cover up?” You smirked. All the boys sans Trent at the table shifted in their seats. Not keen about your suggestion. Jude quickly shook his head, a bit too fast, doing what they all wanted to.

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re fine,” he blurted out, then cursed inwardly at how desperate he sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, it’s a boat. You’re supposed to be comfortable.” He rectified. Your laugh was soft and melodic as you leaned back, clearly pleased with yourself.

“Good,” You said simply, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because I’m perfectly comfortable.” Jude could only nod, his eyes locked on hers. He felt a mixture of frustration and amusement at how effortlessly you could make him lose his cool. He knew you were doing it on purpose, and yet, he found he didn’t really mind. There was something thrilling about this game you played, a tension that made every glance, every word feel charged with electricity. As they continued eating, the conversation flowed around them, but Jude and you remained locked in your private dance of flirtation and teasing, each word, each look a step closer to something inevitable.

The villa was silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the waves outside. It was late, and everyone had already gone to bed after another lively night out at a Grecian club. The moonlight spilled into the hallway, casting gentle shadows on the whitewashed walls as you quietly padded towards Jude's room. Your heart raced, not just from the couple too many of drinks you had earlier, but from the anticipation of seeing Jude again. The whole day had been a tease-sly glances, lingering touches, and stolen moments of whispered words that had you on edge. You reached his door and paused, biting your lip, starting to second guess yourself. You could feel the fluttering in your stomach, a mixture of nerves and excitement. Gently, you turned the knob and slipped inside. The room was dimly lit by the moon, enough to make out Jude's form lying in bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You tiptoed over to his bed, your bare feet barely making a sound on the cool floor.

“Jude…” you whispered as you slipped under the covers, pressing your body against his. Jude stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open in the darkness. He turned his head to see you, a lazy smile tugging at his lips even in his half-awake state

“Y/N." He mumbled, his voice husky from sleep. "You alright?” He smiled and you felt relief weigh over you. It was unsaid but Jude was welcome in your room and you were welcome in his. Although tonight you had gone your separate ways both trying to make it seem like you weren’t dying to sleep with the other. You were the first to cave.

"I'm cold.” You lied, shivering dramatically. You knew it was a poor excuse, especially considering the warm summer night, but you didn't care, you knew he wouldn’t care. All you wanted was to be close to him.

“Cold, huh?” Jude teased with a soft chuckle, his arm reaching out to pull you closer to him. His voice was still thick with sleep but laced with amusement. "You're always cold." You pouted, though the darkness hid your playful expression.

“I am," you insisted, snuggling closer, pressing your body into his. You could feel the heat of his skin and it sent a shiver down your spine-this one was real. Jude's arms wrapped around you, his touch gentle but firm. He pulled you even closer, your bodies now pressed tightly together under the covers.

"Better?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"Much," you breathed, letting your hands rest on his chest. You could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your palm, and it made you feel safe, like this was exactly where you were supposed to be. For a few moments, you laid there in comfortable silence, the only sound the faint rustle of the sheets as you shifted slightly against each other. Your fingers traced light patterns on Jude's chest, your touch soft and exploratory. You could feel his muscles tense slightly under your touch, a silent acknowledgment of the effect you were having on him.

"Y/N," Jude murmured, his voice a little tighter now. "What are you doing?" He smirked at you.

"Nothing," you whispered back, your fingers continuing their slow journey over his skin. "Just…feeling you." Jude let out a low breath, a mix between a sigh and a groan.

"You're not making it easy to try to go back to sleep , you know.” Jude’s tone dropped. You’re breath began to increase.

"Who said anything about going back to sleep?" You shot back playfully, your voice hushed but teasing. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes catching the moonlight just enough for him to see the mischievous glint in them. Jude chuckled again, but there was a strain in his voice now, a tension that was unmistakable.

"You're trouble," he muttered, his hand sliding down your back, resting just above your waist. "You know that?" His eyes lit up as they looked at you. You smiled, your lips brushing against his jawline as you leaned in closer.

"Only for you," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. Jude's grip on you tightened instinctively, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He rolled slightly onto his back, pulling you with him so you were half-draped over his chest. Your faces were close, the heat between you palpable. His hand slipped under your shirt, fingertips grazing your spine, causing you to shiver again-but this time, not from the cold.

"Still cold?" Jude asked, his voice low, almost a growl. His eyes were dark with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. You didn't answer with words. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as Jude responded. His hand moved up your back, pulling you even closer, while the other hand found its way into your hair, tangling in it. Your kiss grew hungrier, more insistent, as if all the teasing and flirting throughout the day had led to this inevitable moment. Your fingers slid up Jude's chest to his neck, holding him close, not wanting to let go. You could feel the heat of his body beneath you, the way his muscles moved under your touch, and it made your head spin. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I want you to remember this time.” His voice thick with emotion. You nodded, your hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling yourself down towards him.

"I've never been more sure," you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with certainty. Jude leaned foreward, capturing your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation. The tension that had been building between you all day finally snapped, and you gave in to the desire that had been simmering just below the surface. His hands roamed over your body, memorizing every curve and line, while your hands explored his, feeling the strength and warmth of him against you. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled together under the moonlight, loosing clothing items by the second, lost in each other, and in the heat of the moment. His tongue slipped past your lips, causing you to moan. Judes hand slowly drifted down towards your core. The sounds you were making in desperation were driving him crazy. The soft moans like music. You could feel your pussy aching and dripping begging for him to move faster. You wiggled your body closer into his. He gripped your thigh squeezing you as he moved closer. You were so fixated on his hands so painfully close to your pussy you hadn’t noticed one of his hand coming to grip your chin. He moved your head to look directly at him. His deep brown eyes stared back into yours. His thumb grazed over your lips as he smirked at you. He slid his finger over your plump lips a few times before pressing it into your mouth. You took it desperately, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

“So impatient, angel. What? You want me to touch you?” He asked you with such smugness you wanted to tell him to shut up but you couldn't. The only thing on your mind was his massive hard dick beneath you. He began to kiss down your jawline to your neck and you whimpered. You didn’t get to feel this last time or at least you hadn’t remembered it but god you wish you did. You tilted your head back to give him more space. He let his lips graze your warm soft skin before you started to leave little bites and nips, marking you again. You bit your lip in an attempt to muffle your moans. Jude knew exactly what he was doing and he was playing you. He now had you distracted by his lips on your neck you failed to remember his other hand, wet with your spit sliding through your folds, quick to place his thumb onto your clit and tease your entrance with his finger. He pushed one finger inside of you. He hit your sweet spot out the gate. Jude smirked in a devilishly handsome way. You couldn’t help but clench around the singular digit. He began to speed up whilst pushing in another finger. A loud, squelching sound filled the room as he played with you. “Good girl.” Jude praised you as your eyes began to roll back and the pace of his fingers sped up. His thumb keeping up its motions on your clit. Involuntarily, your hips grind on his hand as you quickly grow addicted to the feeling of him. Your back arched as he kept at it for ages until you were cumming all over his finger. You covered them in your slick as he brought you to your first high of the night.

“Jude. Please, I want more.” You begged him with a whimper as he slowly removed his fingers from your pussy. You were practically shaking and the only thing you wanted was more of him. He brought his slick covered fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan. While he attempted to tease you, you had had enough. You made quick work and wrapped your hand around his massive length beginning to pump his cock in your hand as you let some of your spit drip onto it. Jude let his head drop back into the pillow behind him not anticipating your eagerness. You loved the way he reacted to you. You moved your other hand to take his balls into it, eliciting more groans from him. You wish you remembered the first time better because his cock looked so fucking good it had your mouth watering as it began to leak precum. The prevalent vein running along the underside had you swallowing to keep yourself from drooling. Jude grabbed your hips and moved you. He pinned you beneath him now, pushing your legs further apart, settling himself in between them. He took his cock in his hand and slapped the tip softly against your wet pussy.

“I’ll give you more, baby. Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” Jude roughly asked you dragging his cock through your folds. You nodded desperately reaching for him and pulling him into you. You gripped his muscular arms, digging your nails into his skin as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly stretched you out as he pushed inside, your walls already clenching around him, squeezing his cock. “Tell me, Y/N. Tell me you want me.”

“Please. Please. I need you to fuck me. I want your cock so bad.” You whined. You couldn��t believe this man had you begging like that. You bite into his lip, causing him to laugh. When he leans back, your eyes are almost closed. You moan, arching your back, and he pushes completely into you. He begins to thrust his hips and the discomfort from his massive size slips into pure pleasure. He moves in a hypnotic rhythmic pace, loving the feeling of your tight pussy squeeze him in the dead of the night.

“Fuck. This pussy’s so good, angel. Just for me, yeah?” Jude mumbled leaning down to press his lips to yours. You nodded and absentmindedly smiled at his words but were unable to get any words out as his thrusts began to get harder and faster. You moan and your eyes shut tight when he repeatedly hits your g spot. Jude’s cock is throbbing. He can barely focus. He was probably too drunk the first to really relish in how fucking good this felt. The coil in your stomach was tightening with every stroke of his cock. Your orgasm was imminent but when he slipped his hand in between your bodies to play with your clit your whined digging your nails into him further. Your mouth dropped open as you could feel your slick drip down your thighs and all over him. “Good girl—just like that– fuck. Cum f’me.” Jude groaned, moving his hips with skill. His cock glistening with your arousal. Your body is on fire, and neither of you does anything to dampen the flame, only adding gasoline to it.

“Jude.. Jude.. wait.” You whined as another climax began to blended into the one you were struggling to come down from.

“Cum f’me angel. Cum with me this time. Gimme one more. Be a good girl f’me.” Jude whispered into your ear nibbling on it and simultaneously you spasmed around his length once more clenching tightly around him. “Fuck!” He growled, nudging his face in the nape of your neck as his warmth began to fill you up. He pushes his cum deep into your pussy, fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts began to slow and then still. Jude held himself up with one hand while his dominant one came to caress your cheek. He softly swiped some stray stands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. He kissed you softly with a hum. “That was the best reason I’ve ever been woken up in the middle of the night.” He smiled at you as he flopped over dramatically to your side.

“Yeah?” You questioned him with a breathy giggle now exhausted. He pulled you tight into his side.

“Hmm. You should’ve just stayed with me to begin with. This could’ve been round two.” He whispered pressing kisses to your temple.

“You want round two?” You cheekily asked running your hands over his bare chest, his skin warm and slick with a sheen of sweat. He was impossibly sexy.

“Yeah, gimme a bit more of you.” He cooed and dragged your body on top of his. You obliged happily and in the end didn’t get much sleep till the morning. And as that morning’s sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden light across the room, the rest of the house was still asleep. The quiet hush of dawn wrapping everything in a gentle cocoon. The early light painted Jude’s features in a warm glow, making him look almost ethereal, like a dream made flesh. There was something intoxicating about seeing him like this—unguarded, vulnerable, bathed in the morning light. Jude stirred slightly, his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as he murmured something soft and unintelligible in his sleep. You smiled against his skin, your fingers tracing light patterns across his back, a silent promise of affection and comfort. For a moment, you simply lay there, wrapped in the stillness of the morning, your breaths syncing in a quiet, intimate dance. The world outside the room felt distant, irrelevant, as if nothing else mattered but the feel of his body against your, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. As the minutes passed, Jude began to wake, his body slowly coming alive under your touch. He shifted, his hand finding its way into your hair as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him, meeting his half-lidded gaze, and the sleepy smile he gave you was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“Morning,” he whispered, his voice rough with sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with a quiet joy that only these secret, stolen moments could bring.

“Morning,” you whispered back, your voice just as soft. You shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing against the stubble that shadowed his skin. Jude sighed, contentment settling over him like a warm blanket as he pulled you even closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You stayed like that, entwined in the early morning light, the world outside forgotten as you indulged in the simple pleasure of being together, of holding each other close. In that quiet, tender moment, nothing else mattered. Last night was sex you would always remember and you were starting to realize it may be hard to forget it and even harder to forget Jude.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 2 - Wine & Tequila xx

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smut

296 notes · View notes

underground-wrestling-fan-club · 2 months

Text

Sexy man meat Raging Beast challenges veteran stud Tristan Baldwin/Aryx Quinn. The rookie thinks his phenomenal physique is enough to take down his experienced opponent. Tristan knows the assignment, show off the hunk’s awesome body in as many humiliating positions as possible. 🍆😈

#jobber #wrestling #muscle #gay wrestling #muscle jobber #sexy hunk #pecs #hot wrestlers #gay #Tristan Baldwin #aryx quinn #raging beast #bro battle

301 notes · View notes

stuffedteen · 11 months

Text

Magical Waistband

Thomas had always been the poster boy for athleticism. With his chiseled jawline and bulging biceps, he was the kind of guy you'd see on the cover of fitness magazines. He loved working out, eating clean, and living a disciplined life. But little did he know, his life was about to take a turn for the curvier.

One sunny day in Southern California, Thomas decided to take a break from his usual workout routine and explore some job opportunities. He strolled along the beach and found himself at the entrance of Hollister. As he walked in, the smell of salty sea breeze and the sound of beachy tunes filled the air.

The store manager, Chad, was your typical surfer dude, all laid-back and cool. "Yo, dude! You look like you could totally rock our clothes," Chad said with a friendly grin.

Henry chuckled. "Thanks, man. I'm just checking out job options for the summer."

Chad's eyes lit up. "Well, that's perfect, bro. We're lookin' for some new staff, and you'd fit right in."

Henry nodded, completely unaware of what was about to happen. "Sure, sounds good to me."

Chad handed him a pair of crisp white Hollister briefs. "Here, man, try these on. They're like, our uniform, and they'll make you look even more awesome."

Henry took the briefs and headed to the changing room. Little did he know, those innocent-looking briefs were about to change his life forever.

As Henry slipped on the briefs, he felt an odd sensation. They tightened around his waist, but he attributed it to their slim-fit style. Unbeknownst to him, there was something magical about these briefs. They had the power to transform the wearer, but Henry was still clueless.

A few weeks passed, and Henry continued to work at Hollister. He enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere and was making new friends among his colleagues. However, something strange was happening. He had become hungrier than ever, and the once-disciplined athlete was now indulging in burgers, pizzas, and all sorts of junk food.

One day, as Henry glanced at himself in the mirror, he was shocked. His body had gone through an incredible transformation. His abs were now buried under a soft, round gut, and his muscles had softened into a curvier shape. His coworkers couldn't help but notice.

"Whoa, Henry, you've been packing on the pounds!" one of them said.

"Yeah, man, since you started working here you've blown up!" another chimed in.

Henry chuckled, still oblivious to the magical briefs' role in his weight gain. He continued to indulge in his newfound love for food, and his physique kept expanding. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was starting to enjoy his new, softer shape.

One evening, as he lay on his couch, his hand absentmindedly reaching for a bag of chips, his phone buzzed with a call from Chad. He picked up, curious to see what his manager wanted to talk about.

"Hey, Chad! What's up, man?" Henry greeted with a warm tone.

"Hey, Henry! I've got something pretty wild to confess," Chad replied.

Henry sat up, intrigued. "Alright, spill the beans, dude. What's going on?"

Chad cleared his throat. "So, remember those crisp white Hollister briefs I gave you when you started working here?"

"Yeah," Henry replied, scratching his head. "They're pretty comfy, I have to say. I've started wearing them basically everyday."

Chad continued, "It's all part of a change in company policy, man. Hollister decided we needed to be more inclusive, so we started hiring larger models. And the briefs, they, uh, magically enhance your physique to fit the new standards. You rock that new look. And I've gotta say, you've become a real inspiration for the brand."

He finally realized what was going on.

"Wait a minute," Henry mumbled to himself. "It's those darn briefs! They're making me chubby!"

The realization was liberating. He knew he should be concerned, but there was something strangely appealing about his new body. He looked at himself in the mirror with a newfound confidence and found himself incredibly attracted to the roundness of his gut and the softness of his body.

"I've got a size up in the briefs waiting for you when you come in for your shift tomorrow" said Chad. "See you then!"

Determined to embrace his new reality, Henry went all in. He let go of his strict workout routines and fully surrendered to his love for food. Burgers, fries, and ice cream became his best friends, and he watched his body expand with glee.

Over time, he fully embraced the life of a slob. His jock days were long gone, and he had become the embodiment of indulgence. It wasn't what he had planned, but he couldn't deny that he was loving every moment of it.

574 notes · View notes

2-dsimp · 5 months

Note

My respect for Nokka skyrocketed, he's a dick but he's awesome

Nokka’s an absolute sucker for compliments and will automatically think you’re a good person if you happen to praise his “Character” specifically and not his general physique.

This might stem from Quio always being there to knock him down a peg. Whenever he’s feeling high and mighty since his bestie constantly reminds him of his slob behavior. And how he can’t even wash his own dishes without the kitchen suffering a huge setback in broken appliances.

185 notes · View notes

physiquebodyware · 2 years

Photo

Physique Bodyware is giving away this Custom-Made Monster Hoodie Jacket (Retail Price $175.00)It's easy to enter + the winner will be announced on Christmas Eve 12/ 24

HOW TO ENTER: Follow @physiquebodyware on Instagram

List this post + tag 5 gym buddies in the comments + share to your Story & Tag us!

GIVEAWAY STARTS NOW UNTIL DEC 23RD @midnight EST

THE BIG WINNER 🏆 WILL BE ANNOUNCED DEC 24TH.GOOD LUCK!

Page to Follow: @physiquebodyware

#freeswag #cheapbastard #ilovefree #awesome physique #physiquebodyware #the monster is loose

0 notes

blackenedsnow · 7 days

Note

Hello! Feel free to ignore this if you can't or wouldn't like to write it!

If it's not any trouble, could I request an Arthur Morgan x Asexual!Reader thing (one shot or headcanons, whatever fits better and/or is easier!), where there's like, mutual pining, but the reader speaks about their aversion to sex and lack of that sort of attraction, and how they think they're just never gonna have a meaningful romantic relationship because of this? Been feeling discouraged and sad about this, so yeah lmao.

And if the reader could be buff, it'd be awesome (no, I am not buff yet, but I will use this as inspiration to get there lol.

Anyways, tysm for taking the time to read this! Have a lovely day/night/afternoon!

heart stronger than flesh

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Arthur Morgan x Asexual! Reader

NOTE: I hope this gave you the encouragement you were looking for! Arthur's got your back, and so do I. You're going to reach those buff goals, one step at a time. Stay strong and know you're worthy of all the love and care in the world! Thank you so much for requesting this. Remember that love comes in many forms, and you deserve it as you are.

SUMMARY: Arthur has always admired you—your strength, your sharp wit, the way you stand tall in the middle of this messy world. He knows there’s something unspoken between you two, but neither of you has dared to name it. That is, until one evening when you finally confront your fears about the future.

The camp was quiet tonight, only the crackling of the fire filling the air as the rest of the gang slowly drifted off to sleep. You sat a little ways from the fire, resting on a fallen log, your muscles tense from the long day. Arthur sat nearby, the warmth of the firelight casting flickering shadows over his face as he quietly cleaned his gun. His usual frown softened whenever his eyes flickered your way, though he was trying to act like he wasn’t paying too much attention to you.

It had been this way for a while now. The unspoken tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface—an unacknowledged pining that neither of you knew how to handle. You weren’t blind to how he looked at you, especially after all the times you’d ridden into town together, his eyes lingering on the way your biceps flexed when you pulled the reins. He was always good at keeping it hidden, though, his cowboy façade of stoicism remaining intact. But tonight felt different. He kept glancing over at you more often than usual, his jaw clenched a little tighter.

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, feeling your muscles strain under your skin. Even in the dim light, your physique was obvious—strong arms and broad shoulders earned through days of hard work and rough living. You were proud of the strength you'd built, but something else gnawed at you. The weight in your chest wasn’t from exhaustion.

You tried to brush the thought aside, but it came creeping back, like it always did.

Arthur noticed the shift in your expression. He finally broke the silence, his voice low and gravelly. “You alright?”

You hesitated, your fingers idly picking at the worn fabric of your pants. “Yeah. Just… got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

He nodded, putting down his gun and giving you his full attention now. He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to speak. His eyes were soft, his usual guarded expression slipping as he looked at you with concern.

You shifted on the log, feeling the words at the back of your throat, but they were hard to spit out. How could you explain it? You weren’t shy about being tough, about fighting back against the world, but this? This was something different. Something more vulnerable.

“Arthur…” you started, not looking at him directly. “You ever… feel like you're not ever gonna have what other folks have? Like, love… romance?” You paused, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. “I mean, I see people, how they are with each other. But for me… I don’t feel the same way they do.”

Arthur frowned slightly, not sure where you were going with this yet. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard, your hands tightening into fists in your lap. “I don’t… I don’t want the same things as most people. I don’t want—” You stopped, heart pounding, before forcing yourself to continue. “I don’t want sex, Arthur. I never have. Never felt that way. And it makes me feel like… like I'm gonna be enough. Not for anyone.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, but there was no judgment in his eyes. Just understanding, like he was listening to every word you said with more focus than he gave most things in this world.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while now. About... us. I know there’s… something between us, but I’m scared it’ll never work because I can’t give you what most people expect in a relationship. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s fair to you.”

Arthur finally spoke, his voice low and calm. “You really think that’s all there is to love? To wantin’ someone?”

You blinked at him, surprised by his question.

“I’m serious,” he said, shifting forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned toward you. “You think I’m with you—care about you—just ‘cause of what I could get outta you physically?” He shook his head. “It ain’t like that. Not for me.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t care about that,” he continued. “Hell, I’ve been around enough folks to know what really matters. I care about *you*. I care about the way you carry yourself, the way you look after the people you care about, the way you get stronger every damn day.” His eyes softened even more. “You think I ain’t noticed how damn strong you’ve gotten, how you keep pushin’ yourself?”

Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke, and a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You had always prided yourself on your strength, but hearing it from him—hearing how he noticed and appreciated it—meant more than you could have expected.

“I’ve felt it too,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Somethin’ between us. I ain’t gonna pretend I know all the answers, but I know I care about you. And I don’t need anything else but you by my side.”

It was hard with the weight of your fears crashing into the relief his words brought.

Arthur, ever perceptive, reached out slowly, placing a calloused hand on your knee. It was a gentle touch—so different from the hardened man you were used to seeing in him.

“I ain’t here to push you,” he said softly. “You don’t ever have to be anything you’re not. I don’t expect you to change, and I sure as hell don’t think you’re any less for feelin’ the way you do.” He hesitated, squeezing your knee gently. “You’re more than enough. I promise you that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your eyes quickly. “Arthur, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Just know that you mean somethin’ to me. And I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

For the first time in a long while, the tight knot in your chest started to loosen. You weren’t used to feeling this kind of reassurance, and yet, here was Arthur Morgan—someone as rough as the life you both led—telling you that you were enough just as you were.

You looked down at his hand on your knee, then back up into his eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled—just a small, fleeting thing, but it was real. “Anytime.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the fire crackling softly beside you, the night quiet and peaceful for once. And in that stillness, you felt a sense of calm settle in your bones.

You were strong—physically and emotionally. And with Arthur by your side, maybe you didn’t have to carry that weight alone.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #oneshot #x reader #ask

69 notes · View notes

zerokurokawa · 4 months

Text

Daughter From Another Lifetime, Part Two (Bonten!Rindou x Reader)

(part one)

After the conversation with his you, the mother of his child, Rindou did everything he could to make up seventeen years worth of lost time with his daughter. He picked her up from school in his nice car, took her out to eat, took her shopping, and even taught her how to drive like a father should. Other than spending time with d/n, he had other things on his agenda was well.

He couldn't help but to notice how great you looked to be in your early thirties. Both of you looked amazing. You, with your e/c, h/c and h/l, and overall beautiful physique, were as stunning as the day he had met you. Truth be told, he had never fallen out of love with you and thought of you often. He craved you, needed, and wanted you. Hell, he even thought to himself about having a second child with you if it wasn't too late. He enjoyed being a father after all.

One night, after taking d/n out to eat, he brought her home on time as promised. You and Rindou had a set schedule when it came to your daughter. He would pick her up from school, take her out on certain days, and drop her back off at home before or at nine. Only this time, Rindou had invited himself inside to talk more.

As d/n went to her room, he sat himself at the counter once more, making himself at home in your humble apartment.

"I think I should buy you a house." He stated, out of the blue.

"I don't need your help with that, I've got plenty in savings and we're doing just fine here." You sounded cold.

"It would be my gift to you, y/n... I want you to live comfortably and never have to work again." He said, taking a sip of the wine you had poured him. He was still wearing his suit, which was neatly pressed, from work. His lilac and purple hair cascaded down his shoulders as he watched you intently.

"You would really go that far, huh?" You were leaning against the counter now, cleavage out. He was obviously trying not to stare, but what could a man do? He wanted you, badly. He wanted you back so bad that he even told his brother about your return and the fact that he was a father. Needless to say, Ran was surprised that he was an uncle and couldn't wait to meet his niece.

"Yeah, I would. I would do anything for you both." He said, leaning in across the counter and propping his arms on the edge. He wanted to get closer to you, but the damn counter was in the way as you were standing opposite of him. You stayed silent while he spoke up again.

"I want you both to live happily, without worry. I've kept my promise by putting her first. I've been leaving work early and picking her up. I've spent time with her. I've gotten to know her likes and dislikes and she's just like me!" He rambled, a wide grin creeping upon his face. He was trying to win you back.

"I'm glad, Rindou." You smiled at the thought of your daughter finally having her father in her life. You had seen how happy it made d/n to be around her dad. She even came home one day and told you all about the awesome shopping trip he took her on and how she got everything she ever dreamed of, including the newest iPhone.

"So why don't you give me a chance to prove myself even further?" He smiled, taking his hand and placing on top of yours. He got up from the counter and walked around to where you were standing. He towered over you, his eyes gazing into yours.

"What do you mean?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. You wanted him, but not all that he came with. You knew he was in a very illegal, dangerous line of work and you didn't want that to affect your relationship any further than it already has. You caught yourself thinking about the Tenjiku days and how often Rindou would come home with wads of money from seemingly nowhere. That's when you knew he was up to no good.

"I mean... me and you. Let's give us another chance." He started to wrap his arm around your waist. You let him, for a split moment, as you were lost in his gaze. The next thing you knew, you two were inches apart and he was leaning in further. Right when he was about to kiss you, or so you thought, he tilted his head while brushing back a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think... we can make it work this time." He whispered gently into your ear, his breath grazing your skin, causing you to shiver. You stayed silent; lost in a daze of confusion and thoughts as he leaned back, arm still wrapped around your waist.

"I need time to think about this, Rin..." You trailed off. You wanted him, badly. You were scared though. You were terrified of numerous things. What if he brings work home and someone comes after you and your daughter? What if he gets caught and gets sentenced to prison? What if... he gets killed?

He backed away, trying not to upset you. He could see the look on your face. As he turned to leave, he asked one more question.

"Promise me, you'll think about it?"

You nodded your head in response, still in a daze of thinking. He left without a single word.

(Tagging: @rukiasluver @merrymerrykiss @burndownyourparade) <333 <333 <333

143 notes · View notes

creadigol · 3 months

Note

Can you continue hero x villain teacher hero?

Thank you so much for the request! This is actually one of my favorite prompts and it was one of my first writing prompt ideas ever, years back before I even had a Tumblr. Due to my love of this one, it kinda got away from me and I wrote a lot. Like a lot. Lol.

I hope y’all enjoy!

Part 1 and Part 2 here!

Hero’s very shitty day was taking a turn for the better.

This morning Hero had woken quite late (due to the extended hero-ing from last night), skipped breakfast, tripped on the curb, spilled their cold coffee, lost their parking space to a visiting mother, and almost got disciplinary action for arriving three minutes past their classroom attendance slot.

After hearing the ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ of various fourth graders, all of whom watched the principal reem Hero out in the hallway; Hero had finally obtained a sense of control over the class just after lunch. Of course that was after one of the kids had accidentally spilled finger paint on Hero’s chair and didn’t feel the need to tell them until Hero found themselves with a neon pink ass.

As it was, just after lunch was their history time and Hero, not feeling too great about standing in front of the kids looking this disheveled; nor wanting to show off the new color of their pants, simply opted to play two episodes of Liberty’s Kids while the students sat on the carpet. The ploy seemed to work as not one student strayed from the carpet or asked to go to the bathroom. Hero stayed at the classroom sink, located just behind their desk, and tried to clean themselves as much as possible with the children distracted.

Hero couldn’t help themselves from laughing along with the kids as the characters in the show told jokes and got into trouble while learning about the creation of The United States. Hero had forgotten how enjoyable the PBS show was and felt very nostalgic as they remembered the show premiering back when they were a child. Some things never age, Hero thought.

So, all in all, the shitty day was getting better. Perhaps after the show Hero would give the kids a break from memorizing the different kinds of rocks and do a fun science experiment instead. With Hero’s powers they were sure they could make the demonstration look very cool without outing themselves as a super. Maybe they could win back their ‘awesome teacher’ status in the eyes of the kids after it had taken such a hit this morning.

“Not exactly in style, but I must admit you wear it well.” Hero jumped and turned. How had they not heard someone come in?

“I’m sorry?” Hero addressed the unknown adult. They turned from the sink, suddenly very aware that they had been wiping their backside with a wet paper towel. Pink was on their hands and now the floor at the attempt…not to mention still on their ass.

Hero very nearly froze at the sight of the intimidating man. If not for their hero training they surely would have.

He was tall, tall and brawny, but not in the typical sort of way. The muscle in his physique was evident underneath the expensive Italian silk suit; but there was also a leanness to it, like a coiled spring that spoke of agility and readiness. Hero wasn’t sure why, but they instantly felt off kilter, instantly felt tense, like when they are about to face off against a criminal or a villain.

“Your ah…” the man smirked and chuckled, “choice of presentation…or should I say style, on your…well…”

“Oh,” Hero noted the visitors-pass around the man's neck and felt a little of the apprehension fade. Perhaps they were just on edge due to the circumstances the man saw them in. “Not exactly my choice. This is courtesy of a young aspiring artist. She’s just too young to know where her canvas is.”

The man laughed jovially, “What a kind way of putting it!”

Hero heard some of the children snicker to themselves from over on the carpet, evidently finding the new stranger and their painted teacher much more interesting than the Revolutionary War. Hero tilted to one side so as to see past the newcomer and give their students ‘the look’.

“Pay attention please,” Hero chided. “You never know…I may be inclined to give you a quiz on this at the end of the day.”

A series of ‘awwwws’ followed their remark.

“But if you pay attention now, I might be in too good of a mood to write a quiz…”

All the kids turned back to the television with such force Hero was surprised there was no neck damage. All except for one.

“Daddy!”

Oh god.

“Why hello Maria,” the man stooped down and scooped up the child who had run over from her place on the carpet. He hugged her and then placed her back down. Her stature only reached just past his waste.

Hero felt their blood go cold.

Daddy…Maria…

Maria, the student who was first in their class in everything but English…Maria, the student who all the other students named most popular…Maria, the student who aspired to be a veterinarian one day because she loved the class rabbit so much…Maria, the student Villain was most concerned about…

Maria, the student who was the daughter of Supervillain.

Shit.

“Are you here to talk to Teacher?” She asked sweetly, her gaze never leaving her father.

The man nodded, “I am, so you best be a good girl and go back to watching what Teacher has put on.”

She scrunched her face up in a pout, “But you’re going to talk about me.”

He nodded as if it made no difference, “I am.”

“So you’re not supposed to talk about people when they aren't there.” She crossed her arms and gave him a look of determination.

The man, no Supervillain, laughed. “Is that so?”

She nodded sagely, “Yes. Teacher said so.”

Supervillain fixed his gaze on Hero. Hero clenched at the sopping, paint dripping paper towel in their hand.

They knew this day would come. Of course they did. But they had somehow hoped it wouldn’t. Hero was under the impression that Supervillain was not that active in his child’s life. Parent-teacher conferences had always been with Maria’s mother, who had stated that she was happily divorced, and all open houses and concerts had been devoid of Maria’s father ever since she had enrolled at the school.

When Villain had brought up who Maria was, Hero had already known. After all, they were well connected in the hero world.

It wasn’t that Hero purposely got Maria in their class, in fact it was the opposite. Hero tried to keep their two lives as separate as possible, but that was just how the dice fell. Hero didn’t get to choose who was in their class and Maria had been assigned to them.

It was how Villain had found out their secret identity in the first place, their research into Supervillian’s private life had led them straight to Hero.

Hero had said it was a small world.

Villain had said they best be careful.

“Really? Well, I guess you better leave me and Teacher alone so they can teach me lessons like that.” Supervillain smiled at Hero.

Maria was not deterred.

“No, you just want to talk about my report card. But you can’t, because it’s not parent teacher day.”

Supervillain laughed again and ruffled her hair. “Not all parents need to wait for parent teacher day to talk about their children. It’s a parent’s right to bring up concerns to their children’s teachers, isn’t that right Teacher?”

Hero gave a hesitant smile, “Yes, of course it is. Though most call first.”

Hero looked down at Maria, “You go back to the show, Maria, Benjamin Franklin’s about to speak to the French Parliament. I know how much you like him. ”

She looked at Hero with suspicion, though with a hint of apprehension at the idea of missing anything involving Benjamin Franklin.

Hero smiled warmly at her, “You won’t understand the book I’m loaning you if you don’t know what he did in France for the revolution.”

Maria’s eyes lit up, “I can take your book home?”

Hero nodded, “But only if you promise to take care of it for me. Now off you go.”

“I will!”

She turned to her father and gave him a quick hug before hurrying back to her spot on the rug. Hero almost laughed when they saw her place her head on her fists in an effort to concentrate more on the words Benjamin Franklin was speaking.

“Nicely done. Though I can’t say I condone bribery,” Supervillain crossed his arms, but still held the smile from before.

“Well, at least it’s enriching bribery. I told her two weeks ago I had a book at home about Benjamin Franklin and she’s been after it ever since. I guess now I’ll have to bring it in.” Hero found themselves slipping into their normal Teacher to parent tone, though they were sure the tension in their shoulders was noticeable.

“We’ll make sure to get it back to you just as it was,” Supervillain leaned on the desk and looked down at Hero in a conspiratorial way. Hero tried not to think about how Supervillain was taller than them even while leaning. “Now about Maria’s last report card…”

“Mr….” Hero cut them off.

“Escole,” Supervillain filled in easily, though his eyes rose. “Maria has my last name.”

“Mr. Escole,” Hero hoped their voice held more bravery than they felt. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your daughter, but this is rather unorthodox. If you wanted to speak about her grades you could have made an appointment for later in the evening or perhaps during their lunch time…”

“Yes, yes,” Supervillain waved them off, “I meant to stop in during lunch but work got ahead of me. I’m sure you know how it is…” Supervillain gave them an up-down, no doubt seeing the old coffee spill mixed with paint and the tear in Hero’s pant leg from when they tripped earlier. “Some days are just chaotic.”

“I know but…” Hero stopped at Supervillain’s raised hand.

“My darling Maria is too precious to be put on the wayside because of work, don’t you agree?”

“Of course, but as I said…” In an instant Supervillain was in their face. Their tall body leaned over the desk as though there was no barrier between them.

“I am a very busy man Teacher, so I’ll get right to the point. I don’t make appointments, people make them with me. When it comes to my daughter, I honestly don’t care whether you’re on lunch or in the middle of a lecture, I’ll be here and when I’m here we will talk. And when we talk, I expect you to listen and do what I want. Is that clear?”

By the time Supervillain was done, not only was he only an inch away from Hero’s face, but his hand had found its way to Hero’s arm. The grip was tight and bruising, making Hero’s hand that held the pink paper towel shake.

Every part of Hero wanted to fight, to get themselves out of Supervillain’s hands, but a stronger part of them was hyper aware of the children. They couldn’t fight here. They couldn’t do anything to endanger the children.

“What do you want to talk about Mr. Escole?” Hero asked in a shaking whisper.

Supervillain smiled, “Maria was right. You are smart.”

Supervillain lounged on the desk and pulled on Hero’s arm to bring them down closer. “That new repairman that’s been hanging around…what’s their name?”

Hero looked them in the eyes with confusion, though in their mind they started panicking.

Good god, did he know about Villain?

“I thought you wanted to talk about Maria’s English grade?” Hero spoke.

“I know you’ll do what you need to with that. I’m not concerned about her grades. What I am concerned with is her account of her teacher being buddy-buddy with a new repairman. One that seems to do the majority of their work only in this classroom.” Supervillain narrowed their eyes at Hero’s large ones.

“I don’t know what you mean…” Hero stumbled when a hand gripped their throat. Not tight, but plenty threatening. They hoped to god that the children were absorbed in the show.

“Are you saying my daughter is a liar? That there is no repairman? Now, now Teacher, remember what Maria said? Can’t be talking about her while she’s not here.”

“I,” Hero breathed raggedly. They couldn’t let this escalate with the children so close. “Every school has repairmen. I…I don’t know what you want.”

Supervillain squeezed a bit tighter as he stared directly into Hero’s eyes. It took all of their willpower not to look away. What if Supervillain recognized them? They used to think their costume was foolproof, but after Villain had figured it out…now Hero wasn’t so sure.

“Are all repairmen so attentive?”

“I don’t know. They come and do their job.” I’m more focused on the kids, Hero almost said, but stopped. They didn’t want Supervillains attention turning the children right at this moment.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Supervillain’s grip on their arm was so tight it felt like it was going to break. Hero suppressed their whimper.

“Not that I’ve seen.” They shook.

“Then why are they here so often?”

Hero blinked away tears of pain. “The classroom was in disrepair. It has been for a while. I thought we finally had the funds to fix everything,” They lied.

“Why no funds?” Supervillain tilted his head.

Hero brought their hand up to grip Supervillain’s wrist by their neck when it got tighter. It only made Supervillain shake them.

“Why no funds?” He asked again.

“I…I’m not sure,” Hero wheezed. “I think the city cut the money during the recession.”

The hand got tighter. Hero started to see spots. Oh god, did Supervillain see right through them?

Hero was pulled so close that they were nose to nose with Supervillain. Hero could smell his breath and feel every puff of air that came from his nose. The way Supervillain had positioned himself perfectly blocked what was happening from the children. At least there was that.

“I want that repairmen gone. Immediately.” He paused, his gaze unwavering, “I expect you not to tell anyone of this encounter. If you do…well Maria will be upset, but there are always other teachers. She’ll get over it.”

Supervillain unceremoniously pushed Hero away. Hero collided onto their wooden swivel chair making the whole thing topple backwards. The crash called attention from all the children.

“Teacher!”

“Oh no!”

“Teacher are you okay?”

“What happened Teacher?”

Supervillain gave a fake look of shock and placed their hand over their heart. “Oh my! Kids, it seems Teacher slipped and fell. Better make sure they’re alright.”

It was through a throng of worried children that Hero saw Supervillain slip out of the room with a pat of goodbye to his daughter.

Hero assured the kids that they were okay, just a few bruises.

“That’s why we never leave water on the floor,” Hero said with a smile. “It was my own doing.”

All the students laughed at Hero’s rare klutzy moment and were more than delighted when Hero told them they could eat snacks and watch Liberty’s Kids for the rest of the day, no quiz required.

Once they were settled once again, Hero put their head down on the desk and tried to slow their breathing.

They had only just got their heart-beat back down when they heard one of the kids approach their desk talking.

“Teacher slipped and fell. It was after the mean man whispered at them. Now Teacher doesn’t feel so good.”

“Mean man?” Asked another voice.

Shit. Not now! Why are they here now? They already practically fixed everything in the school.

“It was Maria’s dad, but we all call him the mean-man because he didn’t help Teacher up when they fell down.”

“Maria’s dad?” The shuffling stopped at Hero’s desk. “And Teacher fell after they talked?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, you better get back to the show. I think Washington’s about to cross the Delaware. Don’t worry, I’ll check on Teacher.”

“Okay! Thanks Repairman!”

There was silence. Hero could feel Villain’s eyes staring into as they kept their head down on the desk.

“Hero,” Villain whispered. “What happened?”

At first Hero said nothing, then,

“Are any of the kids around?” Came Hero’s muffle reply.

“Nope, they’re all eating cookies on the rug.” Hero felt the air change as Villain bent down closer. Unlike with Supervillain, Hero didn’t feel threatened at all. “Why?”

“I don’t want them to see. It’s sure to have set in now.”

Villain placed a hand on Hero’s shoulder, “What’s set in?” Hero could hear the urgency in their voice. “Phillip said Maria’s dad was here…”

“Supervillain was here.” Hero confirmed. “And,” Hero lifted their head. Villain sucked in a breath as they saw the dark bruising along Hero’s neck and the mark on their forehead from when they hit the ground. “We had a talk.”

…

“I’m going to kill him.”

@crow-with-a-typewriter @stevihj @waterflower20

115 notes · View notes

madamechrissy · 2 months

Text

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Fingering, cunnlingus, cumming, dirty talk, jealousy (Gojo is kinda a dick again but he eats reader out good lol)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4,908

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here!

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

You balance the cups of coffee, one for Nanami, one for Gojo and one for yourself, cursing yourself for not just grabbing a drink carrier. You head up the elevator of Kamo tower, punching in your number, thankful that no one was in there and you could breathe for a moment.

Yesterday was intense.

This week has been intense. Since Gojo set his sights on you, it’s all you can do to keep it together lately. You feel nervous as you even think of seeing him back in his role as the arrogant ass of a boss, after feeling like you got to know him just a bit, that there was more to him. Was it enough to stay though?

The elevator dings and you walk out, smiling at Shoko and Suguru who were talking amongst themselves. They greeted you, as did nearly everyone that worked in the giant offices. You did know a lot of people for having no ‘friends’ per se. You peek as you turn towards Nanami’s desk, seeing him sit there contemplatively staring at a chart as his shoulder held the office phone to his ear.

You look to the left and see Gojo Satoru leaning against the office door, with a pretty young girl with blue hair leaning towards him, wearing a cute little business suit. You pause, looking down at your coffees in your hand, and then Gojo catches your gaze, hidden behind his shades.

He calls out your name and you internally curse, popping your and Nanami’s coffees on your desk real quick, before bringing Gojo his signature drink you got daily for him. A white chocolate mocha with extra sugar. You had absolutely no clue how he drank those and ate candy like he did and still had his lean physique.

“Here you go, Sir.” You said with a smile, handing him the Starbucks cup with his name on it. He gave you a little nod, taking it, peeking at your desk as if wondering why you had two cups.

“Thanks. This is Miwa, she is going to be helping you with the smaller tasks, like getting coffee for instance.” He took a sip, sighing, and you looked to the young girl, who was grinning up at Gojo like he was a rock star. Gojo tells Miwa your name, and she notices you for a moment.

“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” She takes your hand and shakes it with a sweet smile. You have to admit her energy is really kind, and you get no bad vibes from her. Even if she’s clearly wanting to pounce on Gojo.

“It’s great to meet you, Miwa. I certainly can use some help with these things so I can focus more on the business side of my work.” You sigh in relief a bit. Gojo was actually listening and trying to help. You should be happy, right?

Right?

“It’s so awesome to be here! Ahh Mr. Gojo is just the best isn’t he?” Miwa batted her dark blue lashes at Gojo, who preened under the attention like some fucking peacok, standing even taller as she leaned so close her breasts were against his shoulder.

“I am the best, it’s true. Aren’t I?” He peered at you. You snorted, instantly covering the action, and his jaw tensed. Miwa looked shocked at you.

“He’s an amazing boss and businessman. So what is her title exactly? Just so I know how to train her.”

He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off, yanking out her cell phone, handing it to you with puppy dog eyes. “Could you take a picture of us, please? ” She asks you, and you blink for a moment. Confused.

“Yeah, please. ” Gojo looks to you, pushing down his shades, those words dripping with reminders of yesterday. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take her little cell phone, scowling up at Gojo, who was grinning.

Oh yeah, you hate him.

You just remembered.

“Sure can, Miwa get close to him so I can get you both in the shot.” You say, saccarine dripping out of your words like venom.

You watch Gojo’s grin go away, jaw tensing. As if he couldn’t stand the thought of you not being jealous. You weren’t playing his games. Miwa literally squeals, standing in front of Gojo, grabbing his arm and putting around her shoulders. You remembered your selfie with Gojo, you weren’t touching or anything like this, but you remember how happy you were.

“Perfect. Smile, you two!” You watch him put on a little smile and throw his peace sign, as Miwa looks like she’s won the whole fucking lottery. “Love it. Look, Miwa, what do you think?”

Miwa bounces up and down and hugs you. “Ohmygod I love it! Thank you so much! My friends are gonna flip.” She giggled, texting away. You errantly notice her making it her phone background.

“I’m glad. I have a couple things to do but I’m here if you need help.” You told her, and she grinned brightly. She was adorable, you had to admit.

“Meet me in my office in a few.” Gojo told you firmly. You give him a little nod, barely acknowledging him.

“You got it, boss.” Your sarcasm drips like venom too. You give him a little two finger salute, and then go back to your desk, snatching up the coffees. When you turn back around Gojo is staring at you, eyes trailing up slowly across your body like a fucking caress.

You hate him.

He licks his lower lip, making it glossy, then turns, guiding Miwa into the office, who was still lovingly staring at her phone. They closed the doors and you roll your eyes as you think of whatever dirty shit his whore ass is gonna get to. Miwa seemed sweet so you almost wanted to warn her, but fuck it.

You head over to Nanami’s desk once more, and he’s just hanging up, giving you a little smile, just one side of his firm lips turning up, and you hand him his cup.

“It’s your usual.” You smile, and he sighs.

“Ugh thank you, I needed one.” He takes a sip.

“Of course.” You turn to head, but he surprises you by calling out your name. You turn back. “Hmm?”

“I could really use your help here. If you have a minute.” He gets up and yanks a chair from across his desk, pulling it next to him and patting it.

“ The Nanami Kento needs help from me?” You giggle, sitting down next to him, inhaling his woodsy scent. He was wearing one of his outrageous cheetah print ties, which went against the basic color suits he always wore.

“You’re an expert at figures.” He crooked his finger, and you leaned in, looking at his monitor, which had graphs and charts. “Could you make sure I’m not missing something?”

“Sure. Hmm. Scooch.” He scooches over, and you squeeze in next to him, starting to add and click. You’re right against him, legs brushing together, and damn if he wasn’t built like some action star, hard muscles against your firm thighs. You felt your pulse quicken a tad at the contact.

“You feeling warm? I can turn on my fan.” Nanami asks, looking at you, and you chew on your lip, remembering the embarrassing words you had said to Gojo the other night. Ugh.

“Could you?” Maybe it would help your redness. He leans across you, and you avert your eyes, to see Miwa sitting on Gojo’s desk, her legs dangling, Gojo in his seat, leaned back. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Better?” He asks, and you feel the little breeze hit your chest. You sigh, smiling at him.

“Much. Thank you. I’m under that air vent over there it must be a little colder.” You know it’s bs but you roll with it. Your eyes peer back to Gojo’s office and you see he is now scowling at you, completely ignoring the blue haired girl in a skirt on his damn desk.

“Is she taking over when you leave?” Kento asked quietly. You looked at him, shrugging a shoulder a bit before focusing back on his chart, tapping the keyboard with your numbers.

“He hasn’t told me yet, and I still am not sure I’m leaving. But he said she’d be doing little things, like coffee runs and errands.”

“That is actually weirdly thoughtful.” Nanami pursed his lips a bit. You nodded.

“It actually is. I am supposed to talk to him later so I guess I’ll figure out my plans then.”

“I really wouldn’t like you to leave.” Nanami’s hand was on your thigh for just a moment, before yanking it off as if realizing you two were in an office, clearing his throat and pulling on his collar.

You felt confused. How could you even talk to him when you’d just been kissing Gojo yesterday? And what was that with Gojo anyway… it’s not as if Gojo would be with you. He hadn’t had a consistent girlfriend since you’d known him, instead opting for a bunch of women at once. So why even entertain those thoughts. But also what the fuck were you feeling?

Was orgasm brain that intense?

“Shit.” Nanami sighed. You realized you were in your head, making him feel awkward. You took his hand under the desk, smiling softly.

“No no. Don’t. I would miss seeing you too.” You told him, and he exhaled a bit, smirking then, peering at you under his shades.

“Hot as a friend huh.”

“Oh god!” You buried your head in your hands, and he laughed at you softly. “You’re teasing me!”

“Maybe a little.” You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “We could be friends outside of work. If we could stay awake long enough.”

You grinned at him. “Yeah I’d like that. Are you trying to convince me to stay with the promise of your charming company?”

He scoffed. “So charming.”

“You kind of are.”

“Is it working?”

“Hmm. It may be. Maybe I should go work for Suguru.” You said with a sigh, Nanami laughed.

“It would be world war three. The only one worse to go to would be Sukuna.” He gave a little shiver.

“Oh gosh. Imagine. Okay, there. Got it all fixed.” You showed Nanami the figures on his monitor, and he leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

“You’re a genius.” His breath tickled your ear a little. You flushed.

“No, not at all. Just a nerd.” You turn your chair, finding you two rather close, and lowering your gaze a bit to focus on his tie. “You sure have the most interesting ties I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should get you a funky one for Christmas.”

“An ugly christmas tie? Ugh.” You laughed, standing then, and scooching your chair back in its place.

“I’d get a cute one. With snowmen.”

“Disgusting.”

You shook your head with laughter, and he stood, then too, as you took your coffee and sipped it. “The Starbucks girl asked for your number from me.” You said, and he turned slightly pink on his cheeks.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah, I told her to ask you personally. She said she was too nervous. She was cute.” You gave him a little smile. “Well, tell me if you need anything else, kay?”

“Thanks again. Oh, hey… you busy tomorrow night?”

“I never have plans.” You roll your eyes with a sigh. He chuckled.

“I understand that. But me, Shoko, and Suguru are grabbing drinks. And a couple people from work. You wanna come too?”

“Sure, that actually sounds really nice.” You’d have once turned down going out because of work making you so tired, but you realized you had to start putting yourself first. “I’ll be there for sure.”

“Good. We will have a drink. Since I’m your hot friend.” He winked, and you grimaced, blushing as he laughed softly at you.

“You are.” You winked back, giggling and running off to your desk. It was fun, just thinking of actually going out. Relaxing with everyone. You just almost get to your desk when Miwa is walking out of Gojo’s office, all starry eyed.

“I’ll get right on these, Mr. Gojo.” She had a stack full of papers.

“Thank you, Miwa.” He smiled at her, and she waved to you before running off. You turned to go to your desk but he paused you, saying your name. You looked up at him, sipping your drink.

“Hmm?”

“My office.” Was all he said, and you rolled your eyes, following him in, hearing him shut the door with a click behind you, locking it. You frowned, turning around, getting snatched up by him as he flicked shut the blinds with one button, pressing you into the door with his hard body.

“What… What the fuck!?” You demanded, shoving at him. He put his arms on either side of your head, lowering to your level, lips a breath from yours. You could nearly taste the mint, licking your lips nervously, eyes looking up into his, furiously scowling.

“Having fun flirting with Kento, were you?” He demanded, gritting his teeth together. You bit out a laugh, brows lowering over your eyes.

“Why do you care? Were you having fun with the view under that little assistant’s skirt as she fucking stroked your ego?”

He scowled, reaching a hand down to your waist, yanking you against his hard body. You ignore how good it feels. “You think she interests me?”

“You’re interested in any pretty thing with two legs.” You roll your eyes, leaning back to get away from him, but he yanks you closer.

“I hired her to help you with stupid shit. So that you’ll just stay.” He voice was husky, and you sighed, lowering your lashes.

“I know and I’m really thankful. But don’t act like she wasn’t all over you and you didn’t like it. That’s just bullshit.”

“You’re jealous as fuck.” He smirked cruelly, tilting your chin up, making you meet his goddamn eyes.

“You’re jealous. Not me.” You hissed. He raised a brow.

“Oh? Wouldn’t mind if I ate her out on this desk here, hmm?” His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You steeled yourself.

“Nope. Why would it? I’m used to you being a whole man whore. It doesn’t affect me at all.”

Liar.

“You’re a liar.”

You shoved at him, then, hard, but he didn’t budge, like fucking steel. You felt your body vicerally reacting to his big hand on your waist, thumb digging in. “You’re the one all fucking pissy I helped Nanami with some damn figures. Pulling me in here like some psycho.”

“You want to fuck him, still, do you?” He demanded angrily. You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you care either way? We’re not together.”

Gojo froze, and his hand dug in painfully, to where you winced, but your nipples hardened under your blouse. “I’m not fucking the new girl. You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“I’m very smart, thank you. Okay do you want a cookie, Satoru? A gold star? That you don’t fuck the little eighteen year old who wants your dick? I don’t even fucking care.”

He laughed, dark, digging his hand until it was in your hair, yanking it. “You act like you weren’t coming on my fingers yesterday.” You overheated, again, chest heaving, your breath coming out in little pants. His eyes went down your chest. “I can see you want me, now, even. Is my nun growing adventurous?”

“No the hell I’m not. I am… not… don’t want…”

“Can’t even finish your lie.” He slid a hand up to your breast, cupping it over your thin white blouse, moaning softly. “Not even wearing a bra are you? Is it because you wanted this?”

“Nope. I forgot.” You were lying to yourself. He plucked a nipple over the thin fabric, making you gasp.

“I’ve never seen you here not in some bra that makes these look smaller. As if that works. I could tell how big they were.” He pinched your nipple hard, and you cry out softly, before slamming a hand on your mouth. It was too late. He had the devious glint in his damn blue eyes.

“I hate you.” You bit out, and his hand went under your blouse, hot and hard, squeezing the softness of your breast, making you clench your teeth so that you didn’t moan again. He was grinning at you.

“Oh sweetheart, holding it in?” He pinched your nipple hard, twisting it just a bit, watching you falter, your knees wobble. He enjoyed it, like a predator with his goddamn pray, eyes drinking in your flushed face, your parted lips.

“Innapropriate workplace actions. I’m telling HR.” You start chuckling then, and Gojo did too, throwing his head back.

“I literally am HR.” He kissed you, and you bit his lower lip, trying to hurt him, but instead he moaned.

“You’re shit at HR, Satoru.” He bit your lower lip now, licking it, as if it was a little apology. You sighed. It felt good. “Mmm. Stop.”

“Why?” His whisper was alluring, it shot your brain down, and spoke directly to your pussy. Fucking Gojo.

“Because we’re at work, dick! Also you’re acting jealous when I’m sure you’ll be fucking the new girl.”

“You’re stupid as shit.” You scowled, and went to slap him. He snatched your wrist, slamming it into the door, trapping you. “I want you, how fucking clear should I make this?”

“I won’t be one of your-”

“I. Want. You.” He shook you as he spoke. You blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t?”

“You just want to have fun, play some game with me.”

“I don’t play games.”

“Sure the fuck do.”

“Let’s play this game then. The quiet game.” You yelp as he picks you up with ease, carrying you to his big mahogany desk, sitting your ass on it.

“The what?” You wriggled, and he scooched up your skirt, eyeing you, thin brow raised. “What are you…”

“Shh.” He put a finger to your lips. “You think I wanna play games when all I wanna do is fucking taste you.”

“Oh…” You felt yourself dripping, and he yanked down your pink panties, already damp, the cool air smacking your cunt. “I… why…”

“Because you taste good.” He whispered, sitting in his office chair as you were spread apart for him, eyes raking you in intimately. He kissed your thigh, nipping, then biting hard. You start to cry out and he grins. “Ah ah. Quiet game. Keep that pretty mouth shut, baby girl.”

“Gojo… we can’t! I…” You trembled when he barely brushed his thumb against your clit, swirling in your desire.

“Already so wet and all we did was kiss.” He teased you, blowing gently on your already sensitive clit, making you cry out, jerking your whole body. “Stop lying. Tell me the truth.”

“What truth? Unh!” Pleasure shot through your body, straight up through your tummy, making you ache when he placed a kiss right above where your swollen clit was, torturing you. “Satoru…”

“Tell me you want me to. That you need me to.” He murmured, and you hated him more. He took all your defenses away.

“I won’t.” You tried to close your legs, but he pushed them open,

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Admit you want it.” He flicked his tongue on your clit then, and you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, eyes rolling back in pleasure you had never felt before. “Say it, fucking brat.”

“No.” He yanked away, and you cried out, then he smacked your pussy, enough to sting, and you hated that you actually liked it. You slid up on your elbows, and before you knew it he had your shirt wide open, your breasts spilled out, and he leaned over you in his black suit, gorgeous as fuck.

“You want me to make you cum, don’t you?” His silken words did things. You couldn’t lie when his face was against yours, his forehead touching yours.

“Yes.” It was weak, pathetic, you were shivering. His lips brushed yours, and you felt things, more than physical. When he was breathing heavily, his eyes lidded, lips parted, affected by you too. You reached your hands up to the lapels of his jacket, lifting your hips up. “Do you want me, though?”

He let out a breathy laugh, as you ran your hand down his shirt, feeling his hard chest. “You think I don’t want you, fucking brat? What, you think I wanted that little Miwa girl?”

You nod, feeling emotions you shouldn't be blinking back stupid tears. “Why wouldn’t you? You are Gojo Satoru. You can have whoever you want.”

“I want you. Silly girl.” He kissed down your breasts, to your nipples, flicking a tongue on them and then sucking. Your hands went into his silky hair. “Tell me what you want. Words, baby girl.”

“I want… I want you to…” You were stammering, blushing. He looked up at you, smiling.

“You’re so cute. I’ll make it easier.” He returned to between your thighs, kissing them softly. “Say you want to come on my face.”

“That’s a lot!” You covered your face, so nervous, so shy out of nowhere. He could see you wide open. He pulled your hands down.

“Your pussy is so pretty.” He purred. “Nervous?”

“I just haven’t… I want to…”

“Say it.” He kissed you there again, breath hot against where you were already dripping wet.

“I want to come on your fucking face.” You couldn’t believe the words out of your mouth, what this man did to you. “Please, make me.”

“As the lady commands.” He said softly, then his head dipped, and the sight of his white hair between your thighs was enough to make you melt, but his tongue sliding up your slit…

“Jesusfucking shit ahh!” He laughed against you, peeking up.

“Quiet game.” He winked, and you nodded, biting your knuckles as he did the motion once more, your pussy pulsed around nothing, aching. You couldn’t believe you were here, wide open, on your boss’s desk. And you begged for it.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your hand when his fingers spread your plump lips apart, tongue sliding in deliciously, like nothing you could describe, as his finger found the hood of your clit, pulling up for his tongue to slide back and flick. You jerked, and he held your hip down, tilting his head and starting to flick faster and faster.

You started panting, breath heaving, hand balled into a fist as your cries muffled into it. The only noise in the office was Gojo slurping up your wetness and your little sighs of pleasure, as he literally drank you in. He slid a finger in you, looking up at you, and you see his chin is glistening with your desire.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and you felt yourself fall apart, pulsing around his finger. He groaned and flicked his tongue as his finger massaged your g spot, and it was impossible not to make noise. You shoved both hands on your face, crying out, shaking. Everything went dark then fuzzy, and you became so dripping wet his finger slid with ease.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Your hips twitched against him, as he licked you through your orgasm, then kept licking after, when you were so sensitive you couldn't handle it. “Satoru… unh… so good I-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You freak out, trying to close your legs, but he grins like some Demon, his whole face wet at this point, making you blush in embarrassment. He licks his lips, continuing crooking that finger deep in you.

“Yes?” He asks calmly, calmly, hitting a spot that made you ache, shoving his hand on your mouth now. His eyes drank in your face.

“Mr. Gojo I have that done… I wanted to talk to you. Are you busy?” Miwa's voice came from the other side. Gojo was studying your expressions as his hand pressed hard, the other now fucking you with two fingers. You moaned against his hand, body rolling in overstimulation.

“I am a little busy right now. Is it important?” He asks so calmly. He smirks at you, not stopping his fingers from fucking you. Your eyes roll back, back arching, clinging to his wrist like some fucking lifeline.

“Oh no, I actually heard there's a work get together Friday. Can I come?” He laughed that laugh of his, looking right into your eyes.

“You can come.” As he said it he pushed in deep, and you started pulsing again, falling apart when his palm put pressure on your clit. You wanted to fucking scream.

“Thank you!” She ran off and Gojo eased his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth.

“Suck them off.” He ordered, and you did, so much of your wetness, and your pussy ached, empty, oversensitive, the air hurting your puffy aching lips. “You admit you're jealous. Now. I saw it on that face.”

“I can't be.” You finally whispered as he eased his hand off your mouth.

“You like to lie to me. Its annoying.” He pulled you down on wobbly legs, bending you over his desk. He slapped the fuck out of your bare ass.

“Dick! That hurts!” You hiss, it was no sexy little slap, he had left a whelp. It stung and burned and brought tears to your eyes.

“Admit it.” He bent over you, whispering in your ear, finger caressing your slit. “You want me to yourself. Already. Greedy little bitch.”

“Do… Not. Am not. Ow!” He smacked you so hard you jerked forward.

“You like it.” He played with your cunt. “She's stupid fucking wet.”

“Yes I like it ugh!” You tensed waiting for another smack, but instead he kissed your neck. So sweet. A walking contradiction.

“Good girl. Now. You're jealous. Say it.”

“Why? Why do this.”

“I want you to admit it.” He caressed your backside, thumb brushing your sickness.

“I shouldn't be.”

He paused, then sighed, kissing your bare shoulder. “Neither should I.”

You froze, turning your head, and your eyes met. Had he said that? Admitted that… was he… were you…

“Yeah. I am.” You sighed, hating what he made you admit. He wasn't grinning though. He kissed you, taking your breath away, hands finding your breasts.

“You're beautiful.” He whispered, and you felt it. You lost yourself in the kiss. You wanted more, arching your hips up, ass against his rock hard length pressing against his dress pants. He moaned, grip tightening.

“Fuck me.” You watched his jaw drop. “Please, Satoru. Please fuck me.”

Gojo lost it, turning you around, kissing you wildly, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you. You drank each other's moans as he pressed hard against you, and you grinded on him, throwing your head back.

“I want you to come around my cock, tight and pulsing. I want to fucking push my come inside you. Fill you the fuck up.” He was pressing so hard you wanted to come again from just friction.

“Mnh. Do it. I can take it.” He laughed a bit, easing from you, pecking kisses on your neck.

“Am I old fashioned? I kind of want my first time with you in my bed.” You felt like an idiot, burying your face in his chest. “Hey…”

“I'm such a hoe, ‘fuck me here on your desk’. And you are like let's wait. I think the orgasm brain is dangerous.”

He laughed softly, pulling your face up to look at him. “I'd fuck a normal woman right here and be done. I just think I'd like to spend my time with you. A lot of time.” His jaw tensed. “Fuck. Maybe my brain is fried from your orgasms.”

You started laughing, hands trembling as you attempted to button your shirt. “Shit.”

“Let me.” His calm hands made quick work of adjusting your clothes. He found your panties and slid them up you. “I want you. Do you see now.” You nod shyly. “Good. Now go think of my tongue on you while you flirt with fucking Nanami.”

“Ugh! Stupid.” You shook your head and he grinned. His pretty fucking eyes bore into you. He could see through you. “I was just talking to him.”

“And so was I with Miwa.” He helped adjust your hair.

“This is… it feels good.” You leaned back as he brushed out your hair with his fingers. He kissed you once more.

“Get back to work now, assistant. I need you to get on that presentation.” He tapped your nose. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes Mr. Gojo.” You batted your eyelashes. He snorted.

“Wish I liked nice girls and not this evil fucking bitch.” He smacked you again, over your skirt. You smirked at that.

“Wish I liked a nice guy and not a demon.”

“Demon with an amazing tongue.” He stuck it out and you bit your lip, making him chuckle darkly.

“It is, but you're still a dick.”

“And you're a bitch. A bitch who tastes really good.” Your whole body was jello. You'd never felt that fucking good.

And now you have to work.

What the fuck happened…

Did you just admit you liked him? Begged him to fuck you on his desk?

That tongue had done things...

Yep you were screwed.

Chapter 6

Chapter on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141034786

#jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #satoru x you #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #ceo satoru gojo

73 notes · View notes