#baby you’re a rich man
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pennyserenade · 7 months ago
Text
i got high to write but now i’m listening to 70s dad music and feeling it intertwine with the very fabric of my being, like god intended
13 notes · View notes
sofflysteel · 2 years ago
Text
In singing voice: how does it feel to be one of the beautiful people?
(aka, that view of a luxury box at the football game)
0 notes
beatlepaul4ever · 11 months ago
Text
How does it feel to be one (two) of the beautiful people?
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
harrisonsbabygirl · 10 months ago
Text
53 notes · View notes
asurrogateblog · 11 months ago
Text
given the four separate beatles biopics I see no reason why they shouldn’t do the same thing with pink floyd. let roger and david make two completely conflicting and unapologetically biased movies. nick can narrate them both and offer wry commentary
25 notes · View notes
throwthewine · 2 years ago
Text
I think this is where I stand right now. (Had to do this because of that last post lmao.)
Tumblr media
(Don’t get me wrong—I do think the stuff in tier 3 is amazing, but they’re a little inconsistent for me they have a good handful of tracks I don’t really love or even tend to skip. To be fair, I could say that about any Beatle album though. Their placement is somewhat arbitrary! It’s hard.)
(I feel a little bad for putting Beatles For Sale in the bottom when it’s really not that different from AHDN and Help! but idk, I just think those two are stronger?)
13 notes · View notes
whitealbum · 2 years ago
Text
the real question is are we getting any insane pop song needle drops in the finale or are we on nicholas britell lockdown tonight
2 notes · View notes
coweye · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Honda Odyssey
Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.
I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.
Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.
Tumblr media
If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.
In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.
Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.
So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.
One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.
Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.
No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.
In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.
To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.
“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “
“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”
“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”
You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.
You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.
“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”
“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.
It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.
Wrong.
You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.
Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.
Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.
Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.
Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.
For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.
Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.
You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 
You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.
In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  
Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.
“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.
Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.
Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.
Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.
You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.
Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.
It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.
Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.
Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.
Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.
That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.
It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?
In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.
You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  
Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.
Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.
“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.
Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?
“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”
“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.
The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.
 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.
Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.
“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”
You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.
Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.
“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.
“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”
“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”
Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.
It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.
You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?
The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.
One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.
All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  
With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.
“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.
“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  
Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.
“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.
“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”
“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”
You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.
“He say where he was taking him?”
“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.
“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”
“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”
“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.
“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.
“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.
“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”
“You can smell him from the car?”
“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”
“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.
After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.
“What’s your world like?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“
“What did you just say?”
“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“
“No before that.”
“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.
The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.
“What do you mean if?”
“I…”
“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”
“I mean I think they can!”
“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.
“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.
“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”
“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.
“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”
“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.
“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “
He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”
Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.
“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.
“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.
“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.
The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.
“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.
Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 
Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.
If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.
It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.
Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.
Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.
“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.
Yes.
You really do that.
You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.
“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.
“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”
The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.
“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”
Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.
The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.
The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.
The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.
You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.
He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.
Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.
You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.
“You sure you want this Darlin’?”
“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”
Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.
“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”
Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”
You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.
“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.
Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.
You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.
Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.
“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”
You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.
“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”
He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.
The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.
You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.
You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.
“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.
The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.
“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.
You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.
You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.
Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.
“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  
Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.
Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.
“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.
When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.
“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.
“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.
“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.
“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.
You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.
Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.
The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.
After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.
The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.
“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.
“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.
“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."
Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.
"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”
10K notes · View notes
screampied · 1 month ago
Text
PARTITION! g. satoru
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)
wc. 7.3k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.
➤ sd! gojo masterlist
Tumblr media
“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”
“satoru, what.”
as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.
you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”
“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.
“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.
satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.
it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.
“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.
once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.
it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.
with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”
“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.
you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”
with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”
“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.
your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.
one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.
you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.
you were living the dream - literally.
embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.
even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.
satoru gojo’s sugar baby.
but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.
satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.
and he never minded.
he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.
“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.
“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”
as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.
the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.
however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.
satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.
he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—
after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.
he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.
satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.
the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.
of course he kept that.
his hair..
it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.
it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.
it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.
after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.
“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.
“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.
shit.
the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!
that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”
“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.
only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..
slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.
you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.
his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.
“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”
“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.
satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.
he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.
like hell could you even wait that long.
it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.
he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.
“stop looking at me like that-”
“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”
satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.
it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.
it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.
his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.
(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)
“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.
each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.
your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.
“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.
your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.
the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”
with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”
“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”
“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”
“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.
satoru’s touch was pure static..
his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.
the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..
“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.
hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.
“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.
right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.
rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.
“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”
♡ ♡ ♡
“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.
when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.
with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.
you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.
satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.
his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.
“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.
he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.
“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.
you just couldn’t help it!
you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.
a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.
from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.
in reality though,
you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.
through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.
he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.
from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:
“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.
satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.
you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.
“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.
tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.
already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..
you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.
he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.
“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.
with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.
your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.
there….
the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”
“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.
your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.
thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..
satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.
slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.
he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.
eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.
with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.
you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..
it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.
“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.
satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.
you just couldn’t stay still though.
with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’
time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..
it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.
you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.
you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.
“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.
his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.
“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.
buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.
he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.
“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”
“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.
you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.
it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.
satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.
his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.
your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”
“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.
as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”
“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.
satoru wondered what your game was.
as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.
as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.
he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.
satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.
couldn’t get enough of you..
if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.
“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.
satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.
the damn beads,
they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.
‘G.S’
the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.
“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”
“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.
“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.
they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.
“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.
briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.
satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.
he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..
“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.
satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”
“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.
he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.
the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“mmh- fine, since you said please.”
as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.
“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.
satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.
you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.
with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.
as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.
“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”
“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.
you couldn’t wait any longer either.
you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.
he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.
his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.
“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.
like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.
satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.
it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..
your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.
your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.
from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.
it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..
your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.
“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.
the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.
“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.
gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.
“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.
satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.
with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.
satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.
“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.
it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..
you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.
if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.
“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”
“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.
he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!
satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.
it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.
“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.
you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.
with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.
you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.
“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.
multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.
“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.
“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”
“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.
it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.
satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.
“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”
“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.
your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.
satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”
“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.
it’s just so much to process.
your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.
“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.
you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.
your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.
a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.
you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.
wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.
your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.
you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.
it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.
doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’
“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.
right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.
“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.
with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”
♡ ♡ ♡
after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.
you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.
the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.
you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.
currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.
doggy.
part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.
your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.
“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.
he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.
that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”
“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.
slow strokes - deeper thrusts..
your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.
your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.
“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.
your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .
the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.
his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.
“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.
“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.
you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.
soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.
he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.
satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.
his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.
at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”
as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.
you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.
satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.
“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.
he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.
“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”
wife?
you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.
but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.
as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.
“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.
“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.
his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.
he’s close - so so close.
you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.
a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..
quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.
“h.. hm?”
“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.
he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.
“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.
he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.
“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.
“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.
he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.
he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.
so …. soft.
satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.
he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.
satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.
“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.
his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.
it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”
satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.
his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.
you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.
“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.
your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.
satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.
as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.
“i’m your wife now?”
“h.. hm?”
“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”
satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.
“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”
bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”
“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”
“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.
satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.
your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.
satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.
his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.
satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”
“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”
7K notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 28 days ago
Text
Do I wanna know?
Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader
Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count
CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble
Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!
Tumblr media
You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.
It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.
Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.
When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.
That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.
He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.
He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.
But not just yet.
Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.
Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.
Satoru can do that for you.
“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.
“Why live here?”
You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”
“Don’t you make good money?”
“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.
“Failed? Didn’t pass?”
“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”
“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.
Satoru can make it happen, surely.
“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.
“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”
“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”
“What’re you asking, sweets?”
“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.
What’s wrong with you!?
“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.
“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.
“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”
Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”
“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”
Oh, he does.
He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.
Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.
“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.
“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.
So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.
“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.
Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.
Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.
You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.
Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.
Or will be.
Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?
You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.
Satoru: No problem, love.
Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.
Satoru Gojo, who was he really?
*****
“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.
“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.
You’re such a good girl.
“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.
“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”
“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”
“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”
“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.
“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”
“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”
You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”
“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”
“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”
“Absolutely.”
You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.
“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.
“I know.”
*****
Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.
Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”
Fuck.
You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”
“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.
Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.
All you can think of is him.
Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.
He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.
He needs you to really need him.
“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.
He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.
He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”
“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”
“Mind somewhere?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.
Where are you?
He zooms in on the location.
Someone’s house?
Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”
“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”
“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”
“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.
“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.
“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.
You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?
“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.
“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”
“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”
“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.
“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.
“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.
“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.
“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.
Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?
Then why is there this gnawing feeling?
*****
The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.
You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”
“It’s an ancient relic?”
“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”
“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”
“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.
“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.
Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.
“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.
“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.
“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.
“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.
“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.
“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.
“Thank you, Gojo.”
“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.
“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”
“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.
Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.
“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.
“Why not date him?”
“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.
“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.
*****
After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.
You’re wondering about lots of things.
“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.
“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”
“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.
“What’s that mean?”
“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”
“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”
Yes, yes it would.
“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.
“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”
“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”
He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”
Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”
“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”
“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”
“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”
You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.
He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.
But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?
That just won’t do.
He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.
Maybe a date with someone?
******
You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.
He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.
He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”
How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.
“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”
You know he knows.
You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”
Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”
“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”
“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”
“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.
“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”
“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.
“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”
“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”
“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”
“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.
You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.
“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.
“Of course, Satoru.”
“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”
He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.
You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.
The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.
Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?
Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.
Having fun on your date?
Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.
Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.
Satoru panics now.
What’s wrong?
He watches as you type.
I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…
Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”
“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?
“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”
“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”
“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”
He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”
Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”
“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”
“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”
Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.
His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”
“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.
“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”
“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.
“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”
“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”
“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”
The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.
“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.
“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.
“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”
“My what!?”
“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.
“Where are we going?”
“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”
“Slutty?”
“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”
“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.
“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”
“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.
“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”
“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.
“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”
He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.
“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.
“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.
“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”
Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.
You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.
He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”
You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.
“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”
You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.
“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”
“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.
Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.
He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.
“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..
“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.
“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”
Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”
You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.
“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.
“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.
You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.
“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”
“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.
“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”
“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.
“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.
“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.
“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”
“You wouldn’t come to me.”
Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.
“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”
Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.
“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”
“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.
“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”
You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.
“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”
“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.
“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”
“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.
“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”
You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.
“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”
Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.
“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.
“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.
“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”
He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”
“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”
“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.
“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”
After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…
You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.
But you feel deliciously fucked out.
You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?
“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.
“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.
“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 
“That sounds so…”
“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’
“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”
“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”
“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”
You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”
“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.
“Satoru…”
“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”
“Satoru!”
“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”
“I… you…”
“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”
“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”
“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”
You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.
He’s got you right where he wants.
And you both know you’re never leaving.
Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)
Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut
3K notes · View notes
pennyserenade · 10 months ago
Text
i do think i’m clever sometimes yeah
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
tonycries · 10 months ago
Text
AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.
Tumblr media
Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo,  pet names, swearing.
Word count. 8.1k
A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-
Tumblr media
The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father. 
Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.
And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.
Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-
“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”
You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close? 
You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was. 
Oh.
At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”
You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”
“Oh? Here with anyone?”
“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”
You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you. 
“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”
“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.
He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.
Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.  
“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you. 
“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”
You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.
“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting. 
And oh was it interesting. 
Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.  
Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion. 
All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.
So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second. 
“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.
You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”
“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”
“Satoru.”   
“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”
Ah, there it was. 
It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?
“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”
“Hey!”
Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?
Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought. 
It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were. 
“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh. 
After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.
Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-
Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often. 
“Ah! Wha- Sato-” 
You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart. 
Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards. 
Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-
“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach. 
“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment. 
Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”
And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son. 
You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”
He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”
“Why? Jealous?”
“Yes.”
You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”
“Fucking yes.” There it was again. 
But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”
“What do you-”
“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined. 
Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”
A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”
And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop. 
Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.
His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not. 
Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner. 
Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.
“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-
“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”
Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.
You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again. 
But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you. 
Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom. 
“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat. 
Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting. 
You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?
Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.
It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”
Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have. 
As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?
Turning to the mirror and- 
Oh. Shit. 
You better have brought your make-up remover.
God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.
Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.
With a groan, he leans against the shut door.  Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?
Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily. 
Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?
Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously. 
Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins. 
“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.” 
And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”
Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. 
But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way. 
“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”
He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.
What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.
“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest. 
Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-
And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.” 
Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that  bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb. 
“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.” 
God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him. 
Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full. 
So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.
And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that. 
“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”
“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”
And then he’s cumming. 
A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-
You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-
You, at the arm of his father.
Shit, he needs to shower. Again. 
---
Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed. 
At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father. 
But that was exactly the problem. 
Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out. 
And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself. 
But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.
Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right? 
You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?
But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.
“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”
That wasn’t your sugar daddy. 
Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice. 
Success. 
“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.
“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”
Oh. 
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?
You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”
It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”
“Aww, must be some important business.” 
He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”
“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would. 
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”
And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.
The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you. 
Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck. 
All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips. 
“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”
“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth. 
Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission. 
Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”
And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find. 
“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”
Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. 
Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away. 
Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”
Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy.  Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet. 
“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.”  he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting. 
“You were the one that-”
And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds. 
And then it was like something snapped. 
Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams. 
“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”
But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.
And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”
“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-
“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue. 
“W-what?”
“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”
You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”
And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before. 
Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him. 
Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it. 
“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls. 
Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-
“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face. 
“Mhm?”
“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”
He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”
And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him. 
And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high. 
Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do. 
Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip! 
And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one. 
Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you. 
“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”
And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.
Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed. 
“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.
“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”
You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin. 
Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.
“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.” 
Shit had you said that out loud? 
Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you. 
Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs. 
And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh. 
“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”
“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need. 
You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”
“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”
“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”
He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.
“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”
“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now. 
Of course, you were not one to be out-done. 
Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-
“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”
“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle. 
“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth. 
“I’d make you cum harder.”
Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet. 
“So, better than him or not?”
But shit was it hard. 
Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”
And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards. 
“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”
With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips. 
You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-
“Who’s got you feeling this way?”
“You, Toru.”
And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust. 
But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch. 
“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in. 
“No.” 
“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”
“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.” 
One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing. 
And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all. 
“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”
And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?
“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.
And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”
His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”
You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”
“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”
And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you. 
“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”
You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you  - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 
“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”
You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”
“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”
Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high. 
Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you. 
And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough. 
Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams. 
Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven. 
That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”
Tumblr media
A/N. How we feeling???
Plagiarism not authorized.
11K notes · View notes
2tarbell · 4 months ago
Note
one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!
kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text
happy birthday, angel 💓
Tumblr media
BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.
the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.
but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.
‘what position u got her in?’
‘Be so fr’
it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.
the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.
it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.
so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.
“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.
“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.
“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.
princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.
“hellooooo?”
her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.
“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.
“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.
“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”
“hiii. why’s that?”
his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.
princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.
he ignored her question, instead asking his own.
“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”
a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”
“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”
she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.
“rafe cameron—“
he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”
it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.
she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”
she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.
a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.
“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.
comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.
she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.
“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.
princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.
he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.
“i— thank you, rafey…”
rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.
he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”
her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.
“that’s what position imma have you in.”
6K notes · View notes
velvetcrimsonkisses · 5 months ago
Text
How long can Toji go without touching you...?
Tumblr media
“Nuh-uh,” you lightly swat his hands away from your waist. “Paws off…” you flash him a small, teasing smirk, finding joy in the little game you two are playing. 
“Woman…” Toji groans, plopping his hands to the bed with a dramatic sigh. His jaw clenched as he takes a deep breath, trying to control the urge to just touch you. His broad shoulders slump just a little, a small pout appearing on his lips– a rare sight on Toji indeed. 
It’s a scene you’re not used to—seeing Toji like this, so soft, so yearning, so desperate. Such a strong man, that could easily manhandle you if he wanted to, straddled under you, looking up at you with such a pleading expression. Just begging for permission, to feel your soft skin on his fingertips. 
“No pouting either…”  you mumble, leaning in to give him another sweet kiss. He wastes absolutely no time kissing you back, eagerly meeting your lips. His kiss full of hungry desire for you, the way his tongue managed to slip inside your mouth, and how he occasionally bit your lip, tugging on it just a little. He could barely contain himself, but he did… 
His hands remained off you, the only difference now is he was gripping the hell out of the bedsheets. You pull back slightly, breathless, your heart racing and you hoped he couldn’t tell. He chases your lips, not happy you broke the kiss, not happy at all. “This is so unfair,” he glares at you with half-lidded eyes. His chest heaving up and down as he pants to catch his own breath. 
A chuckle leaves your plump lips, as you look at him. Face red and flushed, and his boner as hard as ever. “What do you mean, baby?” you tease him, the words dripping with playfulness as you move your hips against him, just enough to drive him crazy but not enough to give him that relief he oh so craves.
Toji groans, his hips instinctively bucking up to meet yours. “You know exactly what I mean,” he mutters through clenched teeth, the frustration in his voice just making him all the more hot. His rich deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You were driving him insane but that was the plan all along. It was exactly what you wanted. 
“You want to touch me so bad, huh?” you purr as your hand comes up to cup his chin, tilting his head so he could face you. His pretty green eyes could burn into your skin with the way he was looking at you. His jaw tightens slightly under your touch, lips part slightly as if he wants to say something, but the words don’t come out. 
You lean in closer to him, placing kisses on his jawline, trying to coax him into speaking. "Is that what you want, Toji?" you murmur, your thumb tracing his bottom lip slowly. You only feel him grow harder under you, his cock speaking for him. His whole body twitches, he couldn’t hold back anymore but he doesn’t want to lose the game… or maybe he doesn’t want to disobey you. 
"Say it, baby" you whisper into his ear, your voice low and sultry, each word full of temptation. You look down to see his poor knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the sheets. He was such a good boy for trying to hold off, but he was at the brink already. 
“Please… let me touch you, already,” he finally blurts out, his voice hoarse and strained with embarrassment. He held on longer than you thought, you could give him that. The sound of his begging was like music to your ears.
"Good boy," you giggle, letting your fingers trail down his chest, sending tingles through his body. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"
4K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 15 days ago
Text
SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY
Tumblr media
When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 
MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader
WORDCOUNT― 13.6k
CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.
nsfw tags under cut::
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.
A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.
She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.
Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 
“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 
The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 
“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 
You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 
And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 
Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 
When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 
Suspicious.
Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 
Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 
Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?
Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 
So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 
He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”
Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 
“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 
You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 
“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 
“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 
“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 
“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.
“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 
Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 
Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 
“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.
You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 
“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 
You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 
“Little more.” He smiles
You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 
“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.
And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 
Stunning. 
This motherfucker is stunning. 
“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 
You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 
And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 
At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 
If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 
You’re uncomfortable. 
The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 
You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 
“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 
No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 
Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…
Expensive. 
Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 
You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 
One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 
And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 
The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 
The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.
His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 
Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.
“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.
You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 
Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.
He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 
Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.
“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 
That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 
You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 
“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”
Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 
He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 
“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 
What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 
And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 
Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.
The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 
And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 
“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 
He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.
“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”
You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 
“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.
Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 
He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 
This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.
He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 
And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 
The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.
Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 
You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 
And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.
As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.
For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 
In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 
He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.
He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 
Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.
The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.
This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.
You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.
He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 
Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 
And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 
It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 
With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 
Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.
He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.
He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 
You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 
“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”
Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.
You.
On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.
And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 
Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 
He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 
And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.
“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”
“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 
He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 
“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.
“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”
He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 
“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 
Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 
“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 
“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  
Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.
“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”
You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.
Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 
“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 
“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”
Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.
“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”
Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 
“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.
You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 
“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”
To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 
His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 
And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.
Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 
For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 
“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.
Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 
Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 
He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  
It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 
“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.
You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 
Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  
You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 
Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 
Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 
“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”
His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 
It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 
“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 
In fact, he’s hiding his face.
You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 
The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?
“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.
“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 
It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 
“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.
Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 
“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 
He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 
“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”
You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 
“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”
A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.
“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 
Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 
“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”
“Go on then, dance.”
It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 
He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.
Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.
When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.
So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 
  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 
“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”
Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 
“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 
It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 
You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 
Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 
“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 
Oh. 
“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.
Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 
“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 
You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 
“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 
He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.
“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 
Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 
“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 
“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”
You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 
“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”
That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 
Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 
And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.
“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 
“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 
“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”
Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 
And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.
In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 
He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 
“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”
He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.
Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.
“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”
And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 
Painfully faster.
“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”
And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.
It’s…overwhelming.
“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 
When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 
And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 
His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 
“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”
His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 
This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 
Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 
Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.
His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 
His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.
But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 
“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 
Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 
The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?
Yes.
“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.
And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.
After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.
“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 
He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 
“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”
Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 
“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 
You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 
Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 
“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 
To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.
“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 
To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 
His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.
Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.
The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.
His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.
It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.
You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 
“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”
He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 
And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.
You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.
“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 
And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 
Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 
“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 
And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 
He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.
Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.
“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”
All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.
“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”
There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 
“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 
And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 
If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 
His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.
“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”
Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 
You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 
Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 
He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 
And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.
When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 
And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?
“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”
He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.
“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”
The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.
Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 
Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.
“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”
“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 
Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 
“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 
He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 
Surprisingly, you believe him. 
After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 
Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 
So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.
Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 
Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.
“Wait, you’re serious?” 
You nod shyly, blinking at him.
“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”
Jake nods happily, without question even.
“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”
You narrow your eyes at him. 
“Jerk off like a normal person?”
Fair enough.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D
2K notes · View notes
miabebe · 7 months ago
Text
Too Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Reverse Trope Series Installment 1
Choi Seungcheol may be your parent's best friend's son, your next door neighbour for 20 odd years and the one face you saw every damn time, every damn where but that didn't mean the two of you wanted anything to do with each other. But a business trip - one room, three nights, and seven beds - might just be what it takes to change it all....
Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader
Word Count- 13k (don't ask me how I thought I could do this in 5k)
Genre - Rivals to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots, that's all. Oh and smut.
Warnings - one mention of blood cause of intense make out wew, other smut warnings under the cut!
Smut warnings - oral (m and f receiving), fingering, brief face fucking, thick dick cheol lol, slight choking, allusions to a breeding kink, unprotected sex (these two are digustingly in love, extremely horny and highly irresponsible, please don't be like them), creampie, mention of the word slut like once, and I'm hoping that's all?
“Absolutely not.”
“No way in hell.”
Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“I’m not sharing a room with him.”
“I refuse to even breathe in her vicinity.”
“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”
“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.”
You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”
“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you, sweetheart.”
“That was a fact, darling.”
“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So, the two of you are dating?”
Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back.
“No!”
“No!”
“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday than date her-”
“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”
“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. I can give you something better to choke on-”
“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that skinny thing-”
“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.”
You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.
“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.”
And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking all three of its inhabitants aback.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder. Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.
Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out. Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in each hand, leading the way to your despair of the night.
Seungcheol followed quietly behind you, hands tucked in his pocket, his large headphones perched on his head as he swayed to the music, blatantly ignoring you. You were thankful for that. Since you were little children, you had always craved moments where you could pretend like this man didn’t exist. Why wouldn’t you? Everything about him was a pain in your ass.
You first met Seungcheol when you were five. Your fathers were college mates turned business partners and coincidentally, your mothers were best friends since high school. Naturally, everyone expected the children of both families to be just as close as their parents but alas, even at the age of five, you could not bear him for more than five minutes. He was so aggressive and unruly, always messing up your dolls, always pulling your hair, never giving you a second of peace when he was around. Albeit that behaviour got milder over the years but there were other things now.
Like the fact that your father always preferred to have a boy, a son who could be his heir, someone like Seungcheol. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you but a different side of him came out every time Seungcheol was around, a side not even you could bring out. He would laugh louder, his eyes would shine more, he would seem so carefree. Seungcheol too never missed the chance to rub that on your face, constantly sneering and claiming that your father would be happier if he was a part of the family.
Over the years, your displeasure and annoyance at Seungcheol only grew into a deep dislike. As though it wasn’t enough that the two of you did your entire schooling together (yes, all twelve years of it), he was always present anywhere and everywhere you went - the debate club, the swim team, the dance academy, the cafes, the libraries, the movies - there was no place you were free of him. Ever since you were young, you had longed to escape to a place far away from home just to be carefree and explore and reinvent yourself without the constant looming of a figment of your past. You had hoped that at least after school you’d have the chance to go away from him but as your luck would have it, the two of you were accepted into the same business school, were interning in the same company, were working on the same project, and had come out of town for the same three-day conference together. It was one thing to have to bear this man’s presence all day, now you had to do it all night as well, thanks to your cheapskate company.
As you got in the lift Seungcheol held the doors open for you before settling in the corner opposite yours, keeping as much distance in between as possible. The bell boy looked at both of you confused.
“I thought the two of you are dating?”
You groaned, rolling your eyes, and fished out your phone, scrolling through it instead.
Seungcheol glanced at you before scoffing at the absurd idea of dating you. He wasn’t foreign to that doubt though – people often wondered if they were together and Seungcheol wondered what on earth they saw between them that even resembled a speck of liking or even tolerance for one another.
Seungcheol had honestly not met anyone as stuck up as you. He never understood why his parents constantly considered you as the ideal role model for their son - ‘Look Cheol, she joined debate, you should too’, ‘She got selected in the swim team, you should try Cheol.’, ‘What do you think about dancing Cheol? She’s really good at it.’. Seungcheol was sick of being dragged into everything you were in, only to always be second. He hated debates, he would rather play football than swim, and though he liked to dance, ever since he joined the academy with you, even dancing was not giving him any solace.
Yet he gave his best all the time. He tried and tried and tried but he was always second to you who was evidently a natural at everything. For example, back in the school days, Seungcheol would almost get the same grades as you but at the cost of sacrificing nights of sleep and putting hours and hours into teaching himself. Meanwhile, you would breeze through the notes a day before the test, get a full 8-hour sleep and still score higher than him. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d invite him home, offering to “tutor” him only to constantly berate him about his ignorance, drop snide comments about how you were better, subtly challenge him in a battle that the both of you were well aware he could not win.
No wonder you had no friends while Seungcheol was as popular as could be - who would even want to be friends with you when you were always so cold and condescending towards anything that moved or breathed. If your parents weren’t joined at the hip, forcing Seungcheol to be a constant presence in your life, he wondered who would ever even talk to you? You should have been thankful for him, that he was the one human presence in your life who was always there despite it all, yet you treated him like he was beneath you. He had hoped that at least after graduating the two of you could part ways but the universe apparently loved playing cosmic jokes, putting the two of you together yet again, at the same workplace. And completely up in each other’s space for the next few days as well.
It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t ever shared a room before - whenever your parents would meet up at each other’s house to drink and talk all night, the two of you had no choice but to crash in the same room, sharing the same bed even but thank God it was usually queen size, allowing the both of you to take two opposite ends, not even your breaths mingling. It had been years since that though…..Seungcheol felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He had no idea how he was to spend tonight in this room. Or the next few ones.
Neither did you.
As all three of you stood before the door and the bellboy fumbled with the keys, you glanced at Seungcheol. He looked unbothered as one could be. Perhaps you were overthinking this whole thing. It was a matter of four nights, surely the two of you could at least try to be courteous right?
“What in the...?”
Seungcheol’s voice rang in the empty corridor and you leaned to see what had him so shocked. Your own jaw dropped in a strange mixture of surprise, confusion, and relief.
Room 68 was no average hotel room. It was as big as the entire lobby, 7 heavily pillowed and blanketed single beds aligned from one end to the other almost military barrack style, only small bedside tables putting space between them.
“Room 68 is uh our bachelorette party suite.” The bellboy clarified. “For, you know, those big groups of girls who are hell bent on partying all night together?” He looked away like he was recalling a horrifying memory. “Since it’s holiday season, the lodge is booked out, this was the only room we had left. Is... is it not good?”
Seungcheol looked at you and for the first time in nearly 25 years, the two of you could finally agree on something.
“No.” You stepped in. “It’s perfect.”
Tumblr media
It had been years since you had seen Seungcheol half-naked.
Well, you frequently saw him during swim practice in those tight speedo shorts of his, ass all plump and taut but you were not talking about that. You were referring to the sight before you right now, him with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he searched for something in his bag frantically – most likely his aftershave. You knew he must have cleaned up given the conference was starting tomorrow and also that his cheeks were burning because you couldn’t smell the subtle cinnamon spice aftershave that usually followed in his routine.
Seungcheol strangely felt a pair of eyes on him as he rummaged through his things and suddenly remembered he was not alone in the room. He quickly turned, looking for you, finding you curled up in your bed, writing in what he guessed was your journal, unbothered by his presence. You were wearing that cute nightgown with little tomatoes drawn all over it which Seungcheol found funny given how much you hated tomatoes with all your heart and soul. Realising he had been looking for too long, Seungcheol gulped, quickly grabbing the aftershave he finally found and rushed back into the bathroom.
You flinched as you heard the door of the bathroom slam shut, looking up from your journal. Shaking your head exasperated, you returned to your writing. Seungcheol always handled things around him roughly like he was just not built to be gentle - slamming doors hard, breaking at least one coffee mug a month, causing rips in most of his clothes when he would gym because he was so big…. And muscular…. And built…..You bit the back of your pen thinking about how good he looked in his gym wear but if you were being honest, he looked best in a suit.
He’s going to be wearing one tomorrow.
You snapped out of your thoughts realizing you were entering dangerous waters and turned your attention back to your writing. Seungcheol made that process slightly harder as he walked out, furiously rubbing his towel against the back of his head, dressed in a black t-shirt and grey sweats.
As he sat down on his bed, he looked at you sitting six beds across, all the way in the other end of the room, right by the window. The moment the two of you entered the room, he took bed 1, the one against the wall and you took bed 7, the one against the opposite wall, putting the maximum possible distance between the two of you. He let you use the bathroom first, not because he knew you preferred using it when it is dry but because he thought this was the best time for him to call his parents and wish them goodnight….. even though it was still 7:30.
He showered after you did but even now, despite being so far from you, he could still smell your bodywash, the fragrance of lilies, the mildest kind because strong fragrances irritated your sensitive nose. Throwing his towel on the chair he kicked his legs off the floor and lied on the bed, turning to the wall, hearing the faint annoyed click of a tongue. Seungcheol knew exactly what triggered it - you hated it when he tossed damp towels like that. But honestly, he couldn't care less right now, not when there were more important things to deal with tomorrow, not when he was so tired already.
You shut your journal, irritated by his behaviour remembering exactly why being in the same vicinity as this man infuriated you. Flipping the lights off and pulling the covers over your shivering body, you realigned your thoughts towards your goal - Tomorrow’s conference was crucial. You had to look your best and do your best so clocking in 8 hours of sleep was the priority, Choi Seungcheol's character development be damned.
But as you lied down turning towards the window, lightning flashed across the sky, a loud thunder following. You turned to see Seungcheol and his back was facing you, the outline of his figure moving up and down rhythmically like he was already in a deep sleep. Slightly relieved yet still unconvinced, you turned towards him before the sleep and tiredness took you away.
Seungcheol simply stared at the wall all night.
Tumblr media
Seungcheol most definitely did not sleep all night.
You could tell by the fact that one, he was up without you waking him and two, he was not there in the room right now. That meant he was out for a run which in turn meant his face must have been all swollen which definitely meant he didn’t get enough sleep. You did notice though that his bedding had shifted from bed 1 to bed 2 and guessed it was because of the coldness of the wall - Seungcheol had the habit of tossing and turning at night and there was nothing he hated more than his bare skin accidentally brushing the cold walls. Considering you were still five beds away from him, you ignored it as you went to wash up and prepare for the day.
When he saw the time on his watch as he finished his last lap, Seungcheol realised he was way behind schedule and that you probably were already at breakfast, sitting with a dozen snide remarks, waiting for him. True enough, as he quickly showered, dressed, and headed down to the buffet, you were there already, going through the proposal, the plate beside you nearly empty. Quickly grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth he walked over, putting on his suit jacket in a hurry. As you saw him approach, you shut your laptop, looking at him top to down in an ensemble that fit him all too well. Seungcheol’s eyes wandered over the pretty way you did your hair, and the plunging neckline of your blouse, a sliver of your pink bra peeking from underneath the fabric-
Both of you cleared your throats and looked away.
“We should leave, the cab should be here in-” He glanced at his watch. “-should have been here ten minutes ago, fuck.”
“It’ll be here in ten.” You pushed a cup of coffee towards him, looking at him pointedly to take a seat. Seungcheol glanced at it then back at you.
“You changed the time on my watch.” He huffed annoyed. “Again.”
“Glad to know you are still capable of basic comprehension.”
“You vile woman.” Seungcheol gritted between his teeth, sitting down. “I showered so fast I thought I was going to pass out.”
“But you didn’t.” You shrugged. “And learn to be grateful Seungcheol, you’re only ever on time when I meddle, so say thanks to me.”
“I’d rather die before I thank you.” He took a sip of the coffee before the extreme bitterness hit his tongue, making him spit it out right back into the cup. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“You did say you’d rather die.”
“Fuck you.”
“I know ten minutes is more than enough for you but personally, I prefer longer.”
Every single time. Every single time you flashed him that sweet, mocking smile and every single time it pushed his buttons like no other. One day he swore to put you in your place but right now he was too low on energy for that.
Well aware that you loved strawberries more than anything, he grabbed the last one on your plate and walked off to the taxi stand, ignoring the way you whined behind him.
“Oh, real mature of you Choi Seungcheol!”
Tumblr media
You knew in your stress about perfecting the proposal early in the morning you had forgotten something important and the moment you stepped into the room that night, you knew exactly what that was.
To close the windows.
Thanks to the pouring rain, the water had drenched your entire bed, not to forget, your bag full of your clothes which was conveniently placed right on the mattress, soaking nearly every piece of clothing you owned. Thank God the laundry in the lodge said they would handle it for you so you still had an outfit for tomorrow’s conference but there were still two major concerns - one, what to wear tonight and two, where to sleep tonight.
You solved the first problem (almost) by grabbing your umbrella and heading to the nearest clothing store as instructed by the receptionist only to find out it sold barely any ‘cloth’ at all. It was an adult shop, filled majorly with lingerie of all kinds which were aiming to cover as little as possible. Groaning inwardly, knowing you didn’t have a phone on you to go any further in this weather, you grabbed the most decent nightgown you could find and rushed back.
A hot shower, a change of clothes and a quick meal later you decided to deal with your second problem, moving your things from bed 7 to 6, not too displeased considering there were still three beds between the two of you. You glanced at Seungcheol’s empty bed and then at the time - it was well past 10. Sighing, you settled under the covers pulling out your journal to write but got lost in your thoughts instead.
You were pretty proud of what you presented today - people praised you, congratulated you for a well drafted proposal and even went so far as to offer you jobs in their company. Yet you were not satisfied. Somehow, the one thing constantly running in your mind was the swarm of women who had flocked around Seungcheol the moment the conference was done, ‘mindlessly’ touching his arms, ‘casually’ brushing their chests against his, ‘genuinely’ laughing too hard at whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.
This was not new to you, Choi Seungcheol being the centre of attention wherever he went. He enjoyed it, basked in it, and chose to make a show of it whenever he got a chance. It was all so fake and superficial; you could not bear to stand it. That’s why even though everyone decided to go out for dinner and drinks tonight, yes, all twenty-seven of them, you politely said goodbye citing a headache and took a cab back. You were not interested in casual conversation and definitely not interested in seeing Seungcheol’s pathetic flirting.
Just as you begin to relish his absence and the beautiful silence that came with it, a loud knocking on the door and his voice screaming your name ended your perfect night. Grumbling, you opened the door to a fully drenched Seungcheol looking absolutely frazzled.
“What the hell-”
He stopped when his eyes fell on you dressed in a white floor length satin gown, the material seductively clinging to the curves of your body, your leg slightly visible between the slit. You crossed your arms to cover yourself up, feeling conscious under his gaze as he gulped audibly.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He met your eyes, a slight worry flashing behind the anger. “You just disappeared without letting me know-”
“I told you I was leaving.” You walked into the room rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you could see something beyond all that pathetic fangirling you’d have heard.”
“Fangirling?” He looked genuinely confused, following you in as he stripped off his jacket. You tried your best to not stare at the way his pecs were so perfectly outlined under the wet shirt sticking to his body but Seungcheol caught you peering, his features lighting up with amusement.
“Would you look at that?” He smirked. “Someone is jealous.”
“Please.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t be jealous even if we were the last people on Earth.”
“Obviously, if we were the last people, who would you even be jealous of?”
You sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“I actually don't, sweetheart. If a little action is all you want, you can just ask for it you know?”
“Funny coming from a guy who kissed me just because another man was talking to me.”
The first tea break of the conference had led to an introduction that was surprising to you considering people did not really tend to approach you on their own. It was even more shocking that this man chose to speak to you in the lunch break as well, completely unprompted. He was sweet, not egging you too much with conversation, simply limiting it to work and the conference and then Choi Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, snaking an arm around your waist, uninvited. Before you could glare at him and send him away, he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, excused himself and led you away from there, only to abandon you the very next second without an explanation.
“You call that a kiss?” Seungcheol scoffed. “You were so swept off your feet, you were this close to spilling details on our quotation for the project. That was actually me shutting you up.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow. “If you really wanted to shut me up, then you should have kissed me on the mouth.”
Seungcheol stared at you wordlessly.
As you began to walk away, he pulled you by the elbow, putting you against the wall, trapping you between his hands on either side.
“Is that how?” He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses. “Because there is nothing I’d love to do more than shut you up.” He cocked his head with a small smile. “And maybe also show you what a kiss really is.”
You tried not to gulp the phantom lump in your throat, cheeks suddenly hot under his gaze. Somehow, as though it had a mind of its own, your hand traced his exposed collar bone, trailing down his chest slowly, eyes following. Seungcheol held his breath under your touch. You stopped your tracks at his hard pecs, right above his heart beating just as fast as yours and looked up at him.
And then twisted his nipple.
Shrieking in pain, Seungcheol stumbled back, clutching his chest.
“What the hell mate?”
You walked towards your bed, grabbing your matching satin night robe and slipping it on. “It's ridiculous that you even think you of all people could show me a real kiss.”
“You forget sweetheart, I was your first one.”
You turned to Seungcheol as he brought up a memory you had actually done a great job forgetting. It was during your senior year - your parents had forced you to accompany Seungcheol to a house party so you could “get more involved in the social scene” instead of holing yourself up in your room all the time. It was a classic game of truth or dare and the worst dare of your life - to kiss Seungcheol for a minute.
Now the last thing you wanted to hear was him teasing you every day about how you were too scared to kiss him so you held him by the collar and pulled yourself into his lap straddling him, your mouth meeting his in a frenzy. If you were being honest, something about that kiss served as your sexual awakening - maybe it was the way he moaned into your mouth, or his hands gripped your ass, or hands entangled in his soft hair or your chest pressed up against his. Whatever it was, there was a video of it that your classmates took circulating somewhere out there, timed around five and a half minutes as opposed to the one minute it was supposed to be.
“Don’t take too much pride in yourself Cheol.” You sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands planted in the mattress. “Only I know how many other guys I had to kiss after that to know what kissing truly is.”
Seungcheol felt his jaw tighten.
Something in you had changed in junior year. Yes, you were still the same antisocial, inhospitable, unapproachable person you always were but somehow every other day, he found you in a new location with a new guy's tongue shoved down your throat. They were not boyfriends, Seungcheol knew that much, and it was the fact that they weren't that made his blood boil with anger.
“You shouldn’t take pride in yourself either sweetheart.” He looked at you with a strange mixture of anger and pity. “There's nothing to feel accomplished about not forming a single real bond in your life.”
The moment the words left his mouth Seungcheol regretted it, knowing he had hit a soft spot. It was too late now; the damage was done - pain was flashing in your eyes.
You looked at the insensitive man before you and laughed at him sadly, mirroring his hurtful words.
“No real bond? I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.”
And with that you turned away from him, tucking yourself under the sheets, turning off the lights on your side of the room. Grabbing his towel and a change of clothes, Seungcheol locked himself up in the bathroom, your words piercing his heart like no other. Over the years yes, the two of you argued and fought and annoyed each other and couldn’t stand one another but hate? He didn’t ever think that’s what you felt for him. Perhaps he deserved it - he had after all crossed a line with that comment.
He knew you had always struggled around people. He knew that even though you detested taking his help for anything, in every social setting, you would always choose to hide behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to interact, you just couldn’t. You were a sick child since birth, constantly brought down by various illnesses that often confined you to your room - you didn’t go out to play with the other children, you didn’t join the kids on their trips to the ice cream shop, you didn’t go late night camping with your classmates, you didn’t do a lot of what kids your age did.
And when you were old enough, when you were healthy enough to step out into the world, you didn’t know how to anymore. Hence you continued to stay in your own shell, closing yourself off from everyone, wary of any and all interactions. Seungcheol knew all this, that’s why when he couldn't lay his eyes on you in the crowd of the conference, the panic he felt was like no other. He never thought he would ever feel his heart stop but Seungcheol felt it twice today - once when he lost you and the other when you said that. I’m afraid you filled that void Seungcheol. Hate forms really strong bonds too.
You stared out of the window, mildly annoyed by all the light falling in your face, Seungcheol’s words ringing in your ears. It might have sounded harsh but he was right. You never formed real bonds with anyone, you could never bring yourself to. Having spent years all by yourself, you didn’t know what it was like to let another person into a space that was entirely yours. That’s why, though you engaged in all sorts of flings and hookups, you never let it go beyond that - you never let yourself lose your heart to someone, walking away from them before they could walk away from you.
In that sense, Seungcheol was indeed the realest bond you had - just a constantly present, mildly irritating, oddly comforting white noise in your life. It was easy with him - you never had to think in his presence, you never had to wonder whether anything would drive him away, never had to worry about keeping him by your side unconditionally - he was always there. Somehow what you felt for Seungcheol was liberating in a way you hadn’t even realized. Hate could hardly define that; you were unnecessarily harsh earlier.
Seungcheol stepped out of the bathroom, eyes falling on your unmoving figure which he just realized was on bed 6 instead of 7. Noticing the damp sheets and piecing it together, he didn’t think too much of it as he switched off the lights and crawled into his bed.
Hearing the sounds of him shuffling, you turned towards him.
“Are you not going for the dinner?”
“It’s too late now. I would have eaten there if I didn’t have to run back here to check up on you.”
“You could have just called me.”
“I did.” He turned to you, looking at just your silhouette in the darkness. “A few hundred times.”
You checked your phone immediately and it wasn’t a hundred times but there were some fifty odd calls from him and two dozen messages.
“I put my phone on silent during the conference and forgot to take it off.” You mumbled, just a little guilty that he was missing out on a gathering because of you. “Did you at least eat?”
“I’m not hungry, thanks to all the Americanos you kept feeding me all day.”
“If not for that, you would have been snoring in the conference barely an hour after it began.” You turned to lie on your back, facing the ceiling. “And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just obediently drank that double shot espresso in the morning.”
Seungcheol remembered you sliding the coffee cup to him and smiled to himself in the dark.
“Then maybe you should also listen to me and stop munching on those strawberries every chance you get, especially when you know they flare your allergies.”
You remembered Seungcheol gobbling up the last berry and smiled to yourself in the dark.
“Goodnight, you obnoxious prick.”
“Goodnight, you insufferable fiend."
Tumblr media
When you woke up in the morning, two things had changed - one, Seungcheol had moved from bed 2 to bed 3 in the middle of the night and two, his shirt was gone, discarded somewhere in the mess on the floor. He was lying sprawled on his bare stomach, his back covered in a thin sheet of sweat, his tattoo shining as the light hit it. Ignoring the sight before you with much difficulty, you shook him awake.
“Get up Cheol, we’re going to be late.”
He groaned, rolling over, eyes slowly blinking open, falling on you first thing in the morning. Even though you were dressed in the sultriest thing he had ever seen on you, Seungcheol controlled himself and tore his eyes away.
“The radiator is right across the other bed; I was literally burning all night.” He mumbled, stretching awake, justifying his move.
You turned towards it noticing how it was in fact between bed two and three, closer to three than two to be honest. Considering Seungcheol was still drenched in sweat, his move in the middle of the night was actually quite pointless, but you chose not to say anything about it. Quickly washing up, the two of you rushed for breakfast, skimming over the presentation notes one last time. Today, neither of you noticed but Seungcheol drank the coffee and you didn’t eat the strawberries.
Day two went by in a flash much like day one. Only this time, you didn’t talk to the gentleman from yesterday, choosing to sit quietly by Seungcheol in the break and he didn’t leave your side either, regardless of all the ladies calling him to join them. In the evening, as the team headed to the city’s best karaoke bar, inviting you and Seungcheol again, Seungcheol brushed them off claiming the two of you had a little more work to do on the proposal. To his surprise, you shot him down, agreeing to join everyone, looking at him with a small smile.
“Don’t be such a killjoy darling.”
Seungcheol knew you were compensating for last night so he followed, well aware that you would most likely want to leave the moment the singing started. Well, he was almost right - you actually wanted to leave the moment you stepped foot into the room, turning to him with pleading eyes. Seungcheol turned you by your shoulder, laughing as he led you in.
“Don’t be such a killjoy sweetheart.”
You sat patiently as the beers poured in and people around you fought for the photobooth props. Seungcheol was sitting right beside you, his thigh a comforting weight against yours, laughing with everyone. As the night progressed, you had downed a beer or two, a slight buzz taking over, not noticing the way Seungcheol had his arm around you now or that you were warmly cuddled against his torso. Soon, one by one, everyone settled on the couches, tired from all the screaming, resorting to chatter instead and deciding on an old-fashioned game of truth or dare. Seungcheol smirked at you and you turned his face away with a soft push.
“So Seungcheol,” The man beside him spoke. “Truth or dare?”
“Neither actually. We should leave now.” He stood, pulling you up, stumbling slightly. “I’ve had too much to drink and it's late, Y/n needs to sleep.”
“Didn’t realize wacky wallflower here also had the bedtime of a toddler.” One of Seungcheol’s many fangirls piqued, jealousy stark on her face. “We can book her a cab, why don’t you stay a little longer, Cheolie?”
You raised an eyebrow, amused at the nickname, and at her jealousy but Seungcheol did not find anything about her words even remotely funny.
“No thanks, I go where she goes.”
“I thought you guys weren’t dating? Then why-”
“That doesn’t change what I said.” His voice dropped an octave. “I go where she goes.”
“Cheol.” You placed a hand on his chest, sensing his anger rising. “It’s fine, let’s stay for a few rounds, yeah?”
Seungcheol looked at you frowning as you sat down, pulling him with you. The girl you already disliked but quite vehemently hate now, spun the bottle with a giggle.
“We don’t have to stay.” Seungcheol whispered as the guy beside you excitedly asked the one across him a question. “You stayed long enough, you need sleep-”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not.” He spoke between gritted teeth. “Just looking at that foul woman makes me mad. I already said I wasn’t interested in her, she had no reason to be a bitch.”
“Well then don’t you want to put the bitch in her place Cheol?”
You looked at him with big doe eyes which terrified Seungcheol even more. What on Earth were you up to?
“Y/n, you get to ask Yuri!”
You looked at the bottle to see it pointing between you and your little conquest of the night. Hook.
“Truth or dare?” Line.
“Dare.” And Sinker.
“Okay Yuri, then I dare you to not take your eyes off.”
You pulled Seungcheol by the collar, smashing your lips on his, swallowing his audible moan. His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you closer, up against his body, teeth roughly tugging your lower lip. Hand sliding up his neck and across his jaw, you entangled your fingers in his hair, drawing him even closer denying even air the right to come between the two of you. Yes, it was all a show for Yuri or whatever her name was, but at a point, she stomped her foot and got up, running out of the room. Perhaps the two of you should have stopped then or at least when you were running out of breath. But you only broke apart when someone dropped a beer bottle, smashing the glass loudly on the floor. Seungcheol and you looked at it, faces flushed, lips swollen. A low whistle echoed in the room.
“We-” Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back. “We should get going.”
“Y-yeah.” You agreed, getting up and grabbing your things as Seungcheol smoothened his hair with his hand, muttering a small goodbye to everyone. As the two of you stepped out of the room, you found Yuri crying at the entrance, her friend trying her best to console her. Not sparing her another glance, you walked away, Seungcheol following you close behind. As the cold air hit you when you reached the taxi stand, you felt a painful sting on your lower lip, making you hiss. Hand cupping your face, Seungcheol wiped the trickle of blood with his thumb.
“Guess you desperately did need a real kiss huh?”
“Shut up.” You smacked his hand away. “I had to help the poor girl get over her pathetic taste in men.”
“By getting a taste of me?” Seungcheol smirked as you rolled your eyes. Before you could say anything, his stomach let out a loud growl making you laugh and look around, spotting a burger joint.
“Let’s get you a taste of that big boy.”
Tumblr media
“Sometimes I wonder-” You stared out of the window at the large clouds rolling in. “-considering our parents are best friends and we are not, do you think our children would be good friends or enemies?”
“Wow, children.” Seungcheol munched on his burger furiously. “I never thought that far.”
“Then think about it now.”
“I don’t know.” He hummed. He hated thinking when he was tipsy. “Siblings tend to have a love-hate relationship.”
“I was talking about our children Seungcheol.”
“So was I.”
“No, I mean, my own children and your own children.”
“Yeah, same thing.”
You looked at him exasperatedly.
“Let’s be honest here Y/n. Who else out there can put up with us for long enough to start a family?”
“We can barely put up with each other-”
“But we have, for almost 25 years.” He slurped on his drink. “There’s a reason why you have never been in a relationship and I have never been in one that lasts. Because whatever it is we share, it’s you and I, till the end.”
“Till the end.” You muttered, reaching for his burger, taking a bite from it. Judging by your expression, Seungcheol could tell you liked his better, like you always do. That’s why he made sure to get it without the tomatoes he usually loved and settled to eat your meal instead. He was just about to ask why exactly you were so lost in thought when a loud thunder boomed across the sky sending a shiver running down Seungcheol’s spine.
Shoving the last of the burger down your throat quickly washing it down with some soda, you began gathering your things.
“We should go before the rain starts.”
Seungcheol nodded, finishing up his meal as you threw the trash in the nearby can. As the two of you left, muttering your thank yous to the waitresses, you laced your fingers with Seungcheol’s, gripping him tight as another lightning flashed across the sky. Thank God it wasn’t too hard to flag down a cab because the moment the two of you sat inside, rain began pouring like there was no tomorrow. As you glanced at the obscurity outside the window, Seungcheol stared at his hand, the one that you hadn’t left in all this time.
There were times when he used to stay over in your room, unable to sleep due to all the thundering while you dozed away oblivious to his presence. Those days, you’d turn around, reaching for his hand, holding it in your sleep. Seungcheol now wondered if that might have been a conscious effort to comfort him.
Perhaps not he thought as you began to nonchalantly hum his favourite song. He wondered if you knew he loved that piece because of how beautiful you looked when you danced to it. He wondered if you knew that the reason he was always around you was to make sure you were alright. He wondered if you knew he always carried an extra inhaler for you, that he had written a long list of your allergies in order from ‘can handle’ to ‘keep away from at all times’, that he was constantly alert about everything you ate, smelt and touched. He wondered if you knew, deep down how much he cared about you…..but sleep dragged him away before he could wonder anymore.
Sensing Seungcheol had fallen asleep, you stopped humming, turning to him, smiling at his half open mouth. Scooting closer, you slowly pulled his head to rest against your shoulder, and he groaned softly, nuzzling into it. The driver looked at the two of you through the rear-view mirror, making your cheeks go red as you looked away.
“Is your boyfriend afraid of thunderstorms?”
You nodded, ignoring the title. “Since he was a child. I don’t think he’s been sleeping too well the last few days.”
“The forecast shows it’s going to be worse today.” The driver sighed. “Look out for him.”
You nodded again. You did look out for him. In your own ways you always did - you always challenged him knowing that was what pushed him to do better. You always made sure to wake him up or at least meddle with his clocks so he was always on time. You always made sure he ate and slept enough, knowing how it threw him off whenever he was deprived of either. Even now you were humming his favourite song knowing it calmed him down. You wondered if Seungcheol knew, that deep down you really cared about him…..perhaps more than anything.
When the taxi reached the lodge, you softly shook him awake after paying, dragging his sleepy self through the lobby. The receptionist's eyes followed the two of you, stumbling away hand in hand, mouth curling into a small smile as you disappeared. You only let his hand go when you reached the room and that’s what jolted him awake.
The silence that descended the room today was different. It wasn’t because the two of you were too tired to say anything to each other, rather neither of you knew what exactly to say given there was so much to. So instead, you resorted to washing up and filling in your journal for the day while Seungcheol worked on a few changes in the proposal for the final pitch tomorrow. Just as he shut the laptop and you shut your diary, the two of you looked at each other before quickly looking away, settling in your own beds, for the night.
You were almost ready to drift off to sleep, before the driver’s words rang in your mind - the forecast shows it’s going to be worse today. Without thinking much, you moved your things from bed 6 to bed 5, muttering that the light from the streetlamps was falling in your face there. Seungcheol did not point out that you could just close the curtains instead and curled up in his own bed, glad you were closer to him now.
He looked at you across the one bed that was in between and suddenly you felt too far, like the distance was too much.
You looked at him as his eyes fluttered shut, thunder rumbling across the sky, wondering if he could hear you across all this space, humming louder than usual, lulling the two of you to sleep.
Tumblr media
When you woke up, Seungcheol was surprisingly awake and fully dressed, trying to knot his tie unsuccessfully in front of the mirror, expression focused with a small pout. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you stared at his reflection, eyes skimming over the beautiful features of his face which you never really consciously admired - his thick hair, thicker eyebrows, plump, pillowy lips, his jawline sharp and chiselled. He was indeed handsome, in a way you really liked….a lot.
You wondered why you always looked at him like he was the bane of your existence. Was it because it was easier to bury the unresolved tension under pointless banter? Or did you wantonly show him your worst side, hoping it wouldn’t scare him away, hoping he would stay despite every flaw, every shortcoming. What did it mean if in 25 years, he didn’t leave even once?
Seungcheol groaned, annoyed at his futile attempts, eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. You slid off your bed, walking up to him as he turned to you. Yawning, you took his tie in your hands, tying it for him. Seungcheol’s eyes drifted over the features of your face as he held his breath.
He could get used to this, the sight of waking up to a sleepy you, your hair all over the place, your eyes slightly droopy, nose red. God you were so beautiful - he knew that, but why didn’t he ever think about it? Why did he choose to fight every remote thought about you with irritating banter? Was he scared that the tension would remain unresolved? And what did it mean if you were still here, right by his side, helping him out in everything big and small, always making sure he was going the right way and doing the right thing, every single day for the last 25 years?
You pushed the knot up to his neck, smoothening the material, patting his chest with a proud smile. Seungcheol gulped as you walked away to wash up, trying to get his breath under control.
When the two of you came down for breakfast, you pointedly avoided the receptionist's gaze. There was no time to deal with more thoughts.
The rest of the day went like that, thoughtlessly. It was a little awkward at the conference considering the little show you two put up last night, so the moment it ended for good in the evening, you bid everyone goodbye, citing you had an early flight and had to leave soon. It was true though, you did have to travel in the wee hours of the morning, but leaving from the conference so soon also meant having to spend longer with Seungcheol, all alone. He agreed with you though, stating his social battery was at an all-time low and that he just wanted to go back.
Today the two of you were somehow sitting on two ends of the car backseat, bodies pressing against the door, in complete contrast to last night. It was a silent ride, a silent walk to the room and a silent session of packing up. Suddenly there were very conscious efforts to not brush hands, or accidentally walk into each other or catch the other person randomly staring, lost in thought. It was only when you were finally done that you asked Seungcheol if he wanted to order dinner. He agreed, leading to a very small and very efficient discussion about what dishes to eat and then silence descended upon the room again. While waiting for the food to arrive, Seungcheol muttered that he was going for a quick run, leaving you alone with the thoughts you could no longer stop from plaguing your mind.
Something had changed over the last 3 days. It wasn’t you or Seungcheol - he was still throwing his damp towels on dry clothes and you were still meddling with his clocks. No, the two of you hadn’t changed. Neither did the arguing, neither did the banter, neither did the subtle flirting, neither did the silent support. No…. nothing had changed. It was all the same. It was all the exact same except now, you were finally willing to acknowledge something you hadn’t even admitted to yourself since the age of five, that-
“I’m in love with him.” You whispered, smiling to yourself.
Seungcheol on the other hand thought running around the lodge would mean those thoughts wouldn’t run in his mind anymore. He was wrong - even though you were not there, like always you were on his mind, in his every thought, in his every breath. Seungcheol didn’t know of a life without you. He also knew that you would be there with him for the rest of his life but for the first time in 25 years, he finally found himself owning up to it - that he truly wanted you be a part of his future, that he could not bear to think of one without you in it, that-
“I’m in love with her.” He whispered, smiling to himself.
By the time Seungcheol had returned, dinner had arrived. Between each bite you searched for the right words to say, noticing that Seungcheol was trying the same. Somehow, neither of you could bring yourself to say anything.
You couldn’t peacefully finish up your journal and Seungcheol couldn’t take a relaxing shower, both muttering under your breaths, practicing long speeches, determined to confess everything before sleeping tonight.
But when all was done for the night, both of you laid down on your respective beds, staring at the ceiling, unable to talk, unable to sleep.
Seungcheol turned his head as you did towards him, making his heart clench a little.
Sighing, he grabbed his pillow and put it on bed 4, lying down, facing you.
You looked at him blinking slowly.
Seungcheol held his breath.
Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your duvet and joined him on the fourth bed, throwing it over the two of you, lying down, facing him.
Seungcheol slid his hand over your waist, pulling you closer.
You gripped the material of his shirt, snuggling into the warmth of his neck.
Nothing was said that night.
Nothing had to be said as the two of you drifted off to sleep.
Tumblr media
It was the harsh morning sun and the annoying chirping of the birds that woke you up.
You stared out of the window surprised at the bright light given the last few days were as gloomy as it could be. Seungcheol’s soft breaths tickled your shoulder as his arms held you tight, your back against his chest. Smiling you wiggled in his grip turning towards him, taking in how much more stunning he looked in the morning light-
Morning?
“Cheol.”
He hummed softly.
“Cheol!”
“What?”
“It’s bright outside.”
“That’s how mornings are Y/n.”
“Oh thank you for enlightening me.” You rolled your eyes. “Might I return the favour by reminding you that we had a flight at 5am?”
Seungcheol’s eyes flew open.
He quickly grabbed his phone from the nightstand, 11am flashing on the screen.
“Fuck.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck fuck fuck, I can’t believe we missed the flight!”
You took the phone from him and scrolled through the app. “The next flight out is tomorrow morning, same time, 5am.”
“But the company hasn’t paid for the room tonight, where will we stay?” Seungcheol groaned. “How could you not wake me up?”
You frowned at him. “And why is it my job to?”
“Because, you don’t like it when I put alarms on my phone.”
“Uh no, I don’t like it when you continue to sleep through the dozen alarms you put on your phone.”
“Whatever your reasons are, I think its been established that you are the one who's supposed to wake us both up.”
“Yeah well thanks to you I forgot to set an alarm.”
“Thanks to me?” He looked at you bewildered. “What did I do?”
“Who asked you to..” You pointed at everything around with the wave of a hand, the two of you only just registering the situation you were in.
“You were the one who came to my bed.” Seungcheol shrugged. “This is on you because you were desperate.”
“Says the one who’s boner poking into my back woke me up.”
Seungcheol gawked at you, stuttering. “M-morning wood is a scientific phenomenon, okay? I can’t help it-”
“I could have.” You muttered, slipping out of the bed.
Seungcheol pulled you back under him, half hovering over you.
“Oh yeah?” He bit his lower lip with a small smile. “How exactly?”
You hummed, “I happen to know some good meditation techniques-”, running a finger down his abdomen, tracing a random design.
Seungcheol grabbed your hand and pinned it to the mattress by your face, leaning close.
“Think of a better way, baby.”
The nickname sent a delightful chill down your spine as you slightly squirmed under him, smiling.
“How about I get you some ice-”
“That’s not what I want right now.”
“Then what do you want right now?”
His eyes ran along the features of your face.
“I want to kiss you.” He whispered. “So bad.”
“And what are you waiting for?”
Seungcheol groaned, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, needy and ravenous, like he had been waiting eons for this. Well, so had you.
Pushing him off you and onto his back, you straddled his hips, kissing him again, rolling your tongue over his. Seungcheol moaned into your mouth, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other holding you by the nape of your neck, taking back control. When you ran your hand over his thick pecs, he pulled away with a dreamy sigh, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your throat.
“Strip for me.”
Sitting up immediately, you lifted your hips a little letting Seungcheol push the material of your nightdress up your thighs and you pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere. In the ten seconds it took you to do that, Seungcheol was a changed man. The old him wanted to take his time unravelling you slowly, pushing you to the edge but the new Seungcheol felt the animal in him come alive with a throbbing, insatiable desire. It became exponentially worse when you pulled your hair up, tying it with the hair tie on your wrist, baring your neck, perfect breasts, soft stomach….unable to reign it in anymore, Seungcheol lunged forward, hungrily sucking a tit into his mouth, making you lose your balance over him a little, grabbing his bicep half laughing.
“Huh, I really thought you were more of an ass guy.”
Seungcheol let go with a wet pop, looking up at you from between his thick lashes. Oh wasn’t that a sight.
“For you, I’m an everything guy.” His hands gripped your ass hard. “Your derriere does take the cake though.”
You laughed, “Who even uses that word?”
“I don’t know, I have no idea what is coming out of my mouth right now.” He confessed, his tongue running up the gap between your boobs, the sweet and salty taste of your skin driving him insane. “I just know what I want in it.”
“Yeah?” You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him back with a harsh grip, before he latched onto your other tit. “I have better things to put in it.”
Seungcheol grinned like he couldn’t wait, flashing his canines, biting his lower lip.
God he was going to be the end of you.
But you’ll beat him to it.
Palms planted behind you, you slid yourself back off his thighs and sat between his legs, lifting your own up for him. Seungcheol’s eyes darkened in an instant and the moment he saw the wet spot in the middle of your pink panties, he could not hold himself back anymore. With a swift movement he was up on his knees before you, hooking his fingers in the elastic by your waist and slowly dragging your underwear along your legs. Like a man starving he crumpled it in his hand, breathing it deeply, eyes fluttering shut like he was intoxicated by your scent.
“I’m going to be borrowing this, for whenever you’re not there.”
“Pervert.” You whispered as he tucked it in the back pocket of his tracks. “But I’m never not going to be there. I’m afraid you’re stuck for life now.”
Seungcheol fisted the material at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head, flinging it somewhere before he put his hands between your knees and spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight before him. You were quite literally hiding his paradise between your legs.
“Trust me,” He reached for a pillow behind him, throwing it to you. “I want to be stuck here.”
The moment you tucked it under your head lying back, Seungcheol wasted no time in crawling between your legs, tossing them over his shoulder, descending on your sex. You felt your back arch off the mattress as he devoured, his tongue, mouth, lips all showing you stars in daytime.
“Fuck Cheol.” You whimpered as his tongue slipped into your hole, his moan sending a wild vibration against it. Bringing your hands to his head, your fingers gripped his hair, pushing your hips up against him “Give me more.”
Seungcheol smirked, pressing your hips down, continuing his ministrations in a way that made your toes curl. Damn he knew what he was doing. For a split second you wondered how he knew so much and an ugly jealousy began coursing through you but it was lost almost immediately, when he began to suck on your clit.
“Cheol….” You moaned, the sudden stimulation too intense for you, a tightness growing deep inside. “F-fuck that’s good.”
Seungcheol knew he was good. Not because he was experienced, not exactly - more because he was desperate to taste every inch of you. If he thought the taste of your arousal was heavenly, the moment your legs trembled and your breaths got harsher and you came against his mouth, Seungcheol knew he’d cast aside the heavens for it. This wasn’t enough.
This was probably the fastest orgasm you ever had, waves of the buzz washing over as your jaw fell slack. You rode it out against his mouth, tense shivers running down your body as his nose grazed your clit before falling limp into the softness of the bed, chest heaving.
Seungcheol was so noisily devoted to making you fall apart on his tongue, he wasn't sure if you didn't moan his name or if he was too entranced to hear it. Either way, he had to go again, keeping in mind to put his eyes on you this time. When he looked up at you, your face was flushed, lips curled into a blissful smile and Seungcheol thought he fell more in love with you, if that was even possible.
“We're gonna have to talk about why you're so good at that.” You half laughed, trying to sit up. Seungcheol pushed you back down, throwing another pillow at you, humming.
“How good was I exactly?”
“Nice try big boy,” You stacked the pillow over the previous one, leaning back against it. “I'm not going to feed your ego.”
“I'll feed myself then.” He smirked before licking a long strip between your folds making you tremble with over stimulation.
“Cheol not yet-”
“If I don't hear you I'm not going to stop.”
And he descended upon you like a mad man again, making you gasp in surprise. You did not think he'd go through with it.
“Cheol I really can't-”
but Seungcheol did not stop.
When he didn’t listen, you reached to pull him off you but Seungcheol was quicker as he grabbed both your wrists in a flash and held them against your heaving chest, continuing to eat the life out of you.
“Seungcheol please.” You couldn’t even squirm if you tried to, held down hard by his brute strength. “I really can’t-”
He looked up, his mouth wet with his spit and your arousal as he licked his lips. Fuck you really loved this man.
“Do you actually want me to stop?”
He was taunting you but there's a slight concern laced in his voice.
You shook your head slowly.
“I thought so.” He chuckled before continuing his act of wolfing down on you.
Your second orgasm began to rush in with an unreal speed and you don't know how Seungcheol could read your body so well already but the little bitch backed out before you could cum again.
“Cheol…”
You whined, frustrated at the feeling ebbing away, desperately clenching to hold on to it.
“I said I wanted to hear you.”
You glared at him, not used to him having the upper hand. He knew he's got you under control when he finally loosened his bruising grip on your thigh to sit up and you opened your mouth on your own accord to let him slip his fingers into them.
“What a pretty little girl.” He sighed as you sucked on his digits. “My pretty girl.”
“Yes yours.” You moaned, as he pulled them out of your mouth and pushed them into his, wetting them more as you practically panted below him.
“I'll do what you want, just put them in me Cheol.”
“You're quite demanding baby.” He leaned over you looking amused. “I hope you deliver as well as you talk.”
“I'll suck the life out of your dick after this I swear, just let me cum again.”
Enticed by the idea, Seungcheol captured your mouth in another one of his messy kisses, his fingers slowly slipping into your heat. You gasped into his mouth, surprised by how thick his fingers were. Oh his dick would probably make you pass out and god were you ready for it.
“Say my name baby.” Seungcheol pressed his forehead against yours, still holding your wrists between both your bodies with his other hand. “Tell me who's making you feel so good.”
“You.” You moaned as he pumped his fingers, slowly stretching you open, your arousal dripping down between your thighs. “Fuck Cheol, faster.”
He obeyed, picking up the pace as you babbled a string of curses, legs squeezing his hand desperate to feel more. Seungcheol sucked on your neck, enjoying the way you were crumbling apart for him. How was he ever going to be away from you after this?
“Oh god yes.” You sighed, as his fingers curled hitting the spot, eyes rolling back. Seungcheol looked at you in awe.
“I apologise if I ever told you that it was annoying when you rolled your eyes.” He continued to push you over. “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”
“Yes yes yes.” You chanted not hearing him, too lost in your own pleasure building. Pleased with himself, Seungcheol finally put his thumb over your clit and that was all it took for you to cum all over his fingers with yet another silent scream.
Seungcheol let your hands go and sat back on his heels, admiring his artwork. Your chest heaved erratically like you had forgotten how to breathe, squeezing your tits, hands desperate to claw something. Hair sticking to your forehead, sweat running down your neck next to the bruises he marked, you were a vision to behold.
Seungcheol sucked his fingers clean, relishing the taste of you yet again. You stared at him wide eyed, curious.
“Have you never tasted yourself?”
You shook your head.
“Oh sweetheart.”
Seungcheol pushed his tracks down just a bit, enough to pull his dick out. It's not the longest you've seen but God was it thick, a stark vein running down the length which looked painfully hard. The thought of having him fill your mouth and choking around it literally made you drool.
He pumped it a few times before hooking his hands under your thighs and pulling you towards him with unsurprising ease. You scrambled to raise yourself up on your elbows, watching as he ran it up and down your slit, gathering your release on it.
“Come taste.”
You blinked at the man holding out his dick to you like it was a treat, like he expected you to crawl to him, stunned at just how cocky he had gotten in 20 minutes. Hell no.
You shook your head, tilting it in challenge.
“Come fuck my mouth.”
If Choi Seungcheol had a fatal flaw it was how much he desired control but right now, there was nothing he desired and craved more than you.
Moving over not so gracefully he aligned himself by your mouth, knees planted on either sides of your waist, looming over you.
You immediately wrapped your lips around his tip, humming at the weight on your tongue as he pushed your hair off your face softly.
“I know baby, you taste fucking divine.”
Giving him a half nod, running your tongue over his slit before hollowing your cheeks around him. The mix of your and his arousal indeed tasted….right, like they belonged together.
You tried to take in more of him but you might have underestimated his girth and overestimated your ability. Pulling back with a pop, you licked your lips.
“You're too thick.” Mumbling you tried to push him off you, onto his back. “Let me move over-”
“Oh no no.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, grabbing the back of you neck, forcing you to look up at him. “It can't be that bad, someone claimed they could stack fruit loops on it.”
You rolled your eyes realising he was a bit too proud of himself. “I still can. I just don't have the cereal to prove it.”
“I'll buy some on the way back and when we go home that's the first thing you're going to do.” He wiped the spit leaking around the corner of your mouth with his free hand. “And if you don't manage to prove your point, that's grounds for punishment.”
You grinned at him.
“Oh you like that.” He hummed, guiding your head back to his cock. “We'll see how much of it you can take baby.”
A lot apparently.
Seungcheol should have known. You were like him - you didn't like to be challenged. That's why the moment he thrusted himself into your mouth, you held onto the back of his thighs with both hands, pushing it in a lot more than Seungcheol had thought you were capable of. Throwing his head back with a satisfied moan, he began moving his hips ever so little, slowly fucking your face, but you had other ideas, taking him as far back as you could, your throat constricting around his dick.
“Alright that's it.” Seungcheol pulled you off him, staring at your confused face. Somehow you had no gag reflex and Seungcheol suddenly had the endurance of a teenager. “Want to actually fuck you.”
He muttered drawing back, kicking off the remaining of his clothes and sitting up, trying to hide his breathlessness.
“Aw Cheol, was I right again?” You laughed, getting up and clambering onto his lap. “Is ten minutes really enough for you?”
“You'll see.” He pulled you into a deep kiss before abruptly breaking away, leaving you confused yet again. “Or not.”
“What?”
“I just realised… I don't have a condom.”
You waited for him to tell you he was kidding but he looked serious.
“Cheol….” He looked at you apologetically. “Ugh Choi Seungcheol, why not?!”
“One, don't call me that and two, I don't know, maybe because this was a work trip and the conference dress code didn't mention dick envelopes.”
You sighed annoyed. “I just always thought you'd carry one on you, xl sized.” You shot his overconfidence down before it even grew on him. “you know, for your head.”
“Oh because I'm a dick?” He rolled his eyes at the comment you had used on him too many times already. “Well, wouldn't that make you a little slut? Since you’ve been in love with me for so many years.”
“Who said I was in love with you?”
Seungcheol looked at you with the biggest, fucking cutest eyes. “Are you not?”
You smiled, surprisingly shy despite all that transpired so far. Honestly, you didn't have to answer that question. What you felt for each other was clear as day.
Putting a finger on his mouth, you whispered. “Less talking, more fucking please.”
Seungcheol groaned. “What do you want me to do? Go buy them now?”
“No…” You hated the thought of him leaving.
“Or…. I could pull out?”
“The last thing I trust in this world is your timing.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Besides, don't you want to be inside me when you cum? Squeezing you tight? Milking you dry?”
“Kinky.” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, secretly delighted. “And shoot me if I ever say no to that, but you're not on birth control are you?”
“No…” You drawled. “But I can get plan b?”
“Baby, you realize how reckless this is-”
“I know.”
“-we've barely just-”
“I'm aware.”
“-plus your health-”
“Choi Seungcheol.” You pushed him back into the bed, annoyed. “Are you gonna fuck me or not? Because if you don't then I'm gonna do it myself and all you get is to watch-”
Seungcheol, tucked his arm under his head, looking like he liked that idea a little too much.
“-while I cum taking someone else's name.”
His eyes darkened as his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you down to his eye level, “Try me sweetheart.”
“You know how I feel about challenges.”
“And you know how I feel about sharing what’s mine.”
“Then fuck me like I’m yours.”
Seungcheol smiled, dropping a soft kiss on your mouth, much in contrast to what followed. “Remember, you asked for this.”
One arm wrapped around your waist, he flipped you over, putting you below him once again, the hunger in his eyes burning a lot more now. As he shifted to push your legs apart, hand leaving your neck, a soft whine left you and Seungcheol caught it immediately.
“You’re into that too?” Seungcheol smirked as you frowned at him, annoyed.
“Apparently. I just found out as well.”
“I wonder what else you’re into.”
“You can wonder all you want, after you put that dick into me.”
Seungcheol clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I don’t like how you think I’d listen.”
Yet before you could talk back, he slid his cock along your folds, the tip slightly dipping into your hole, pulling out the most exquisite moan from you.
“Now that’s something I’d listen to.” He pushed himself a little further, your hands immediately coming to grip his biceps, gasping again at just how big he was. Seungcheol had been dying to listen to you sound like this and god was it so worth it.
You attempted to relax, adjusting around his girth as he eased himself in, but gave up even trying to maintain the facade of composure when he bottomed out, pressing all the way in.
“Fuck yes Cheol.”
He hissed softly, feeling your soft walls flutter around him. He had never fucked anyone raw and after this, how was he expected to just not spend his whole life buried in you?
“Please, move.” You begged, and he folded immediately, his hips slowly picking up pace as he kissed you along your neck.
“We should have done this years ago.” He groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips, pounding faster, harder. “We should have been doing this for years now.”
You nodded half listening, half submerged in your pleasure, nails running down his back. “Let’s just never get out of this bed.”
Seungcheol chuckled, absolutely agreeing with that idea, snapping his hips faster, delighted by the way you were reacting under him.
He wanted to flip you around and take you from the back, mark your ass with the red prints of his hand. He wanted you sitting on him, fucking yourself on his dick while he watched, your head thrown back in pleasure. He wanted to eat you out till you cried, fuck your throat and make you swallow, pull every moan and every whine and ever chant of his name out of you. God he wanted so much but Seungcheol wasn't capable of any of those right now - he had been hard for almost an hour now and your grip around him was like a vice.
“Seungcheol more.” You whined, despite him already railing into you like there was no tomorrow. He still listened though, sliding his hand down between your bodies and finding you clit, well aware that you would probably go unbelievably tight the moment he touched it, rendering him absolutely helpless. Sure enough, you keened, clamping down on him hard the moment he began rubbing circles, a string of curses leaving your mouth.
“Cum for me.” He whispered, hips rutting against yours harshly, holding his own release back desperately. “Cum all over me.”
And you did, the pleasure washing over you in waves, legs tightening around him before they finally went slack, exhausted. Seungcheol pulled them off him, gripping your thighs instead, shifting from an erratic rhythm to quick, deep strokes as he finally came inside you, collapsing on top.
He was careful enough not to crush you under his weight, holding himself up a little so you could regain your breath, watching your eyes flutter tiredly.
“We need to get you cleaned up.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, glancing at your mixed arousals dripping out of you. “I don’t know how long the statute of limitations for ejaculate is….”
For the first time in your life, Choi Seungcheol had managed to turn you dumb, as you nodded mindlessly, not having registered the stupidity that just came out of him.
He chuckled, rolling off you, but you dragged him back by the wrist, wrapping your arms around him.
“Hold me.”
And as though the universe hated you, a sharp knock on the door made you two jump apart. Seungcheol still proceeded to hold you but the knocking only repeated, louder this time. He huffed annoyed, sliding off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and threw it on. Opening the door just a little, half hiding behind it, lower half specifically, he peaked out but his plan was foiled when the receptionist pushed the door fully open and came barging in, throwing her hands around.
“Check out time was 12! You’re late-”
She froze as Seuncheol quickly covered himself with a towel from nearby and you scrambled in a hurry, hiding under the sheets, squirming in embarrassment.
The old woman slowly, still shocked to the core, muttered an apology and walked out of the room as Seungcheol smacked his head against the wall, regretting not wearing his pants.
“You…” She cleared her throat from the other side of the door. “You have till 2. Get it together and get out of my lodge.” She then walked away, the sound of her footsteps fading, before they suddenly got louder again. “I would also like to add that I knew this was going to happen from the moment you two stepped foot in here!”
You covered your face trying not to pass out from the embarrassment as Seungcheol locked the door laughing.
"Why does she sound so happy?"
“I cannot believe she saw us." You groaned. "Who walks in like that-”
“Who cares?” Seungcheol walked over to you. “I cannot believe we still have two more hours.”
“You’re not even ready to go again.” You looked pointedly at the softened dick in his hand that he was pumping lazily. “Besides, we're going to have to book the room again, for tonight.”
“2 hours isn’t enough for you? Oh baby-”
“Our flight is at 5am tomorrow you idiot, we still need a place for the night.”
“Right.” Seungcheol recalled, “I forgot we had to go… that this had to come to an end.”
“Nothing’s ending.” You clarified, putting a rest to his worries. “Didn’t you say, you and I, till the end?”
Seungcheol nodded as you held your hand out to him. He walked over taking it, dropping a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“Say.” And you knew an unholy thought was brewing in that head of his. “We have all this time and there are seven beds here.”
“I don’t care how many there are.” You laughed, pulling him into the softness of the sheets. “I only want one to share with you.”
A/n - this was supposed to be out a few hours ago but tumblr was being a bitch to me. Im adding the tags in the comments! Reblogs with tags, comments and asks are much appreciated, thank you for reading :)
4K notes · View notes