#buy graze table

[6toru]

𝑾𝑯𝒀 𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝒀 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬? — gojo satoru.

imagine gojo fucking you with the dildo you bought to prepare yourself for his big dick 🧎‍♀️

cw. 18+ content mdni, dildo fucking & explicit language | wc. 2.2k

author's note. another one of my works from my previous blog ! happy reading <3

The first time you stumbled across 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 freshly out of the shower, all naked and bare, the first thing your eyes caught sight of was that obscene baguette of a cock hanging between his legs. By then, you were convinced that he wasn't going to fit – at least, not easily. Your thesis was later proven to be correct when you had your first time with the ivory-haired male; tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you cried out in sheer pain. Of course, your boyfriend stopped his actions, making it his top priority to ensure your comfort and wellbeing. Since then, he didn't make any more advances – offering only his mouth and fingers for your pleasure, despite your many pleas telling him that you're ready.

It had been nearly a month now, and you had finally taken matters into your own hands. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures. While Satoru was off on a mission, you stared intently at the laptop screen, scrolling through the myriad of sex toys that are put on sale. What better way is there to stop your lovely boyfriend from holding himself back any longer than to buy a dildo to prepare yourself for him? Undeniably the mere image of his twitching cock being held down by the confines of his boxers and trousers made your mouth water. Eventually, after a couple minutes, you click on checkout.

It’s the next day, and your boyfriend is still away for a mission, and you find yourself staring at the box sitting in front of your door in surprise — honestly, you had expected it to come in a week. But then again, you’re back to business. Rushing back inside your abode, you plop the box down onto the kitchen table, tearing the cardboard with a scissor in nimble movements. Lo and behold, the extra large rainbow dildo rests upon the palms of your hands.

Blushing, you stare down at the lewd toy and you gulp.

You plop yourself back onto the comfort of your soft mattress; the freshly washed dildo and the small bottle of lube splayed out across the bed. at this point, you were already bare – your bra being the only garment left on your body. Leaning back on the mattress, your back makes contact with the soft and gentle plush of your pillow. You stretch your legs wide open and lick a thin stripe of saliva against your finger, rubbing it against your folds. A hitched breath escapes from your lips as you align the tip of the dildo with your aching hole. God, you desperately wish it's your boyfriend instead.

All you can think about is Satoru; his body above yours, his eyes staring lovingly into yours as his soft lips graze against your own. You shut your eyes closed, softly biting onto your lip as you press the large tip against your entrance —

“Guess who’s home~” The door suddenly opens and in barges your boyfriend, and as if the angels had sent him a message because of how much you have missed him, he finally returns from his week long mission. However within seconds, you both jumped in surprise — despite wearing his blindfold, you could tell by the way his mouth was agape that his eyes were ogling at the sight of a dildo pressed against your slick cunt. “Rainbow?”

As an immediate response, you cross your legs together and tossed the toy to the side; feeling an intense wave of embarrassment wash over your whole entire body. You want to evaporate, you really do. Your face feels undeniably warm, looking at your boyfriend bashfully. “Welcome home, ‘Toru.”

Without any words, Satoru makes long strides to the bed and he presses his lips onto yours, almost greedily; his fingers trails to the back of your head, cupping it as he kisses you deeper. Shortly after, he pulls away from your lips, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting your lips together. you can only look at him, both aroused and embarrassed.

“Were you planning on surprising me with this, my love?��� Your boyfriend questions you, tearing the black fabric off his face; revealing his cerulean eyes blown out in arousal. You can barely utter a response, the embarrassment is simply too much for you to bear.

“Can't say that i'm too happy about this, though. Seein' you use a plastic dick instead of my own is making me a lil' jealous, y'know?”

You press a soft kiss against his cheek, looking at the male bashfully, “I'm sorry baby, i just wanted to prepare myself so I can take you better. That’s all.”

As if your words have ignited some sort of flame within him, all signs of fatigue from his mission has evaporated and he pulls you in for another heated kiss. “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he says in between kisses, “you know that?”

You’re unable to reply, your brain already feeling mushed from the way his lips mold so nicely against yours and his hands brushing against your thighs. You can only hum against his lips, though you’re barely keeping track of what he’s saying. But when you see his hand travel towards the toy, you felt your cheeks heat up even more when he decides to lube it once more upon inspecting it.

“Out of everything, why rainbow?”

“it’s the closest thing to your size,” you reply, your voice soft yet it’s dripping in arousal. “I didn’t want you to keep holding back for my sake.”

Satoru glanced down at the toy and right back at you, grinning cockily. “Cute. I hope you know that this is still pretty small compared to my dick.”

he leans to your ear, playfully slapping the toy against your pussy. “Say, baby. Do you mind if I help you prepare?”

Fuck. How can you say no to that? You nod your head eagerly towards your boyfriend, unable to control your desperation and arousal. Your gaze trails down towards Satoru’s trousers and you could immediately feel your mouth water — the sight of his fat cock restrained by the confines of the tight fabric is a sight you’ve definitely missed seeing.

You softly gasp at the sudden, cool sensation of the lube being sprayed onto your folds and then your eyes rolling back shortly after when he sticks his long and thick finger inside your heat — effortlessly kissing your g-spot with the tips of his thick fingers before pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you.

“you’re already squeezing so tightly around my finger,” Satoru comments, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How are you going to take this dildo, let alone my dick, inside you?”

“I…” you try to find the words to speak, but a shocked squeak merely escaped your throat when he squirted a little bit of lube onto your juicy cunt; the cool liquid making your body jump slightly. Satoru chuckles softly at your reaction, leaning into your face to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “Sorry, hehe, you’re too cute I couldn’t help myself.”

He slides the tip of the dildo along your folds; starting from your clit to down your hole, pushing the tip ever so slightly to elicit a reaction out of you. You shiver slightly at the sensation, thrusting your hips softly against the plastic toy. There's no denying that you feel embarrassment washing over your entire being, yet there's also something awfully arousing about being at his complete submission.

“Try to relax yourself, 'kay baby?” You can hear Satoru's low voice ringing in your ears, dripping in complete arousal. You hum in response, eagerly nodding your head as you await his actions with your lips bitten in anticipation.

“Imagine that it’s my cock fucking you,” satoru says, chuckling deeply, “nice and deep.”

The moment he inserts the tip inside you, your toes immediately curl — your arms scrambling to find solace in his broad and brawny shoulders; your body writhing beneath his as he pushes the toy even deeper, deliciously stretching your velvety walls with his slow movements.

“Shit,” The ivory-haired male lets out a needy groan, his cerulean gaze locked onto your pussy; taking in the pornographic sight of your folds sucking the toy back in each time he pulls away — he’s unable to look away; he wants to see more.

“Baby, you think you take it even deeper?”

The sultry tone in Satoru’s voice sends immediate shocks of arousal straight to your heat, arching your back in delight when he presses his palm against the end of the dildo — pushing it deeper. He grins almost maniacally, relishing in the way you whimper so desperately for him; begging him to use his dick in lieu of a plastic toy.

“S-Satoru… please — I wan’ your cock so badly… Mmh—Oh!”

A loud mewl rips from your throat, your eyes widening as he slams the toy all the way; the head of the rainbow plastic cock planting a kiss on your cervix. You dig your nails deeper into his skin, your lips latching onto his shoulder to mask the desperate moans that threaten to escape your lips. Satoru licks his lips, his jaw clenching at your cute reactions.

He’s tempted, and that's an understatement — he's beyond horny and desperate, yet there's an inkling of curiosity egging him on; wanting to see how you'd react if it was his fat cock instead. He brushes a finger on your face, bringing a strand of hair behind your ear; leaving whispers of praise. After all, you’re taking the dildo so fucking well. He watches, amused, as he pulls the toy back – his eyes glued onto your slick juices coating the ridges before he slams in back inside, laughing almost sadistically when you let out a cry.

It isn't long before he increases his speed, his lips whispering sweet nothings in your ears as he relentlessly fucks the dildo inside your wall, and t's taking everything within him to ignore the ache dwelling in his pants – twitching within the confines of his boxers as he continues to pleasure you.

"F-fuck! 'Toru–mm! Please, baby, I-I'm so fuckin' close please I want your dick so badly – I p-promise i can take it now – Ah!"

Jaws slacked and eyes blown out in lust, he stares keenly at the juices trickling down your gaping hole; your thighs trembling and jumping each and every time he slams the rainbow toy inside you.

"Is that right?" Satoru grunts, licking his lips. He increases the fervour with his thrusts, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he imagines that it's his own cock going in and out of you.

"You're doing so fuckin' good, baby – takin' that toy like a fuckin' champ, yeah? I'll give you my dick right after this. You just have to cum good for me, 'kay?"

His groans comes in tandem with your lewd moans as nears you to your release. He truly revels the way your hips rock frantically against his hands, moaning desperately against his shoulder before you tense on the spot – your juices spraying all over his hand, dampening the bedsheets and a loud cry of his name leaves your trembling lips.

"Mmm... shit." Satoru sighs, staring down at you as he unbuckles his belt with ease, and your eyes snap over to his boxers; your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the humongous bulge as well as the pre-cum that dampened the grey fabric. A delicious sight. He slips out of the garment, almost teasingly and he laughs at the wanton look plastered across your face.

In languid movements, he rubs his giant dick in front of you; relishing in the sight of desperation that is plastered across your face while he teases you. "You've been so hungry for my cock, yeah? You're such a dirty, dirty girl."

"Please, 'Toru." you whimper, you can feel the tears of frustration slowly building up in your eyes. God, you want him so bad. Eventually, he returns to you; reconnecting his lips with yours in an arduous kiss. He leans you back to the mattress, his lips never once leaving yours as he unclasps your bra with one hand in ease. You gasp when you feel his hands immediately grasping at your soft mounds; his fingers rubbing, pulling and twisting at the erect buds.

When you pull away, a thin string of saliva is what was left that connected your lips together and you stare longingly at him through bated breaths — your breathing has gone even faster; your heart pounding against your chest as you watch Satoru align his cock to your needy cunt. It's going to happen now, you thought to yourself, biting your lips.

"Hey, baby. you think you can cum like that again?" He asks as he rubs his fat cock against your drenched folds, eliciting a sweet and needy moan from your lips.

Satoru has long lost his grasp on the remaining control he had on himself. There's a carnal look in his eyes, yet it only makes you all the more excited.

"I want you to cum like that on my dick this time, baby. You think you can give it to me?"

© 6TORU — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[ebodebo]

"Si, you owe me a new couch," you half-joke, trying to ease some of the palpable tension in the air, as you sit next to your boyfriend, Simon, on your couch, cleaning the gash on his side with a face cloth.

The poor guy had shown up at your door in the middle of the night with the nastiest gash to his side. It was a superficial cut, so nothing that needed immediate medical attention, but it still bled—a lot

He wouldn't say how he acquired the laceration, but you suspected it couldn't have been good. You kept your assumptions to yourself and have been tending to them for the last five minutes or so.

"I'll buy you any kind you like," he picks his head up from its place on the back of the couch. You catch his eyes boring into the side of your head as you continue cleaning the area, finally looking up to lock eyes with him. The sincerity in his eyes has you letting out a small laugh.

"You don't have to," you murmur as your eyes shift to the gauze to your side. You carefully open a fresh piece, place it on the cut, and secure it with paper tape. You gently press the sides, securing the tape to his skin. "All done. Good boy," you jokingly say, tossing the gauze's empty packaging onto the coffee table in front of you.

You feel his hand grip your chin, pulling you towards his lips. You are slightly taken aback, even making a noise of surprise, but you quickly reciprocate the kiss.

He tasted of Nicorette gum and cigarette smoke with a hint of liquor. You would scowl at him later for the cigarette smell since he had supposedly quit, but right now, you could feel by the way he gripped your face he craved a taste of you.

You raised your hand to grip his jaw, trying to bring him closer. He senses your desire, gripping your hips and swinging you over his legs so you are now straddling him, never once disconnecting his lips from yours.

While you adjust to the new position, your knee grazes his gash, making him grunt into your mouth. You pull back slightly to speak; both of your chests are heaving. "Am I hurting you?" Your brows furrow in concern as you gently bring your hand to rest in his messy hair.

He knots his hand in your hair, lips brushing against yours. "Only if you stop,” he pants, deepening the kiss.

You smile into his lips, gripping his jaw, feeling his teeth clash against your own. One of his hands lingers over your hip once again, kneading the fat of it. The other lingers from your hair to pull down your shirt on your shoulder, revealing your collarbone.

His lips hover over your clavicle, eyes flicking to take note of a new, very small ‘s’ inked into your flesh. He brings his hand up to brush his fingertips over the tattoo.

“You got this for me?” He enunciates the ‘me,’ like it was just so unable to believe you would ever want to taint your skin for him.

“You like it?” You chew on your bottom lip, giddy with anticipation. He leans back against the back of the chair, shifting his torso a little. You let out a slight moan when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you feel that?” He gruffs, gripping your waist and grinding you against his clothed hard-on. You grip his shoulders with each of your hands tightly, hissing through your teeth, “How could I not?”

He leans forward, lips hovering over the shell of your ear so you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “I fuckin’ love it.”

a/n: a little fic just bc it's been a hot sec<3 divider!

[lcvemiyuki]

“when they get jealous” | hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else

warnings: disgustingly cute, ushijima x reader + oikawa x reader are established relationships, fem!reader

characters: kageyama, oikawa, ushijima

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Tobio Kageyama

'his pettiness would slip out unintentionally'

You and Kageyama often helped each other with studying, so it wasn’t surprising to find the two of you in a coffee shop with notebooks laid out on the wooden table. Kageyama was focused on his work, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes in his notebook. You had given him your neat and organized notes to copy down since the ones he took were the complete opposite.

He was having a good time until this guy, claiming to know you, approached the table. While Kageyama isn't the most socially astute, he couldn't miss the way this guy’s hand occasionally grazed yours or the overly familiar tone in his voice. Every laugh and lingering touch made Kageyama's jaw tighter, his pen digging harder into the paper.

You clearly looked uncomfortable with his pursuits, attempting to let the guy down nicely with an awkward laugh here and there.

“So, I was thinking we should hang out sometime—” The man’s flirtatious invitation was abruptly cut off by a loud, deliberate slurping noise coming from across the table.

You turned to see Kageyama, still focused on his work, but now obnoxiously trying to suck up the last remnants of his coffee from the glass cup. The sound was grating, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from nearby customers.

Each time the guy tried to speak again, the slurping noise grew louder and more exaggerated, making the man visibly frustrated.

“Do you have a problem, man?” he angrily spat, now glaring at the nonchalant guy across from you.

Kageyama took his time to calmly put down his empty glass, his fingers lingering on the rim momentarily before he shifted his gaze to the intruder. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, now burned with an unmistakable, cold irritation.

“I don’t know, do you?” Kageyama’s voice was flat and unyielding, his stare piercing through the man.

You could feel the tension in the air, the intensity of his harsh and cold eyes making the man shift uncomfortably.

“Because she hasn’t said yes to a single thing you’ve said since you got here,” Kageyama continued, his tone blunt and unforgiving. “So I suggest you leave.”

The man hesitated, clearly taken aback by Kageyama’s directness and the unspoken threat in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and walked away, mumbling something under his breath.

Once the guy was out of earshot, you turned back to Kageyama, who was already picking up his pen and resuming his work as if nothing had happened. A small, amused smile tugged at your lips.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said softly, a hint of gratitude in your voice.

Kageyama glanced up, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “I didn’t like how he was talking to you. It made me uncomfortable.”

You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “Thanks, Tobio. I seriously mean it.”

A faint blush tinted his cheeks as he nodded in response, trying to focus back on his notes.

But, he simply couldn't as his attention kept drifting back to you.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Tooru Oikawa

'he'd try to one-up the person with blatant rudeness'

Oikawa loves spending time with you. When a festival was happening in your hometown, it was a given that he’d go with you. The vibrant atmosphere, the colorful stalls, and the joyful crowd made it a perfect date. He left you alone for a split second to buy some takoyaki.

When he returned, he saw you stopped in the middle of the crowd, awkwardly laughing with some other guy. His smile faltered slightly, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. He playfully nudged your shoulder, interjecting himself into the conversation and cutting off whatever unfunny joke the guy was telling you.

“Hey, sorry for the wait,” Oikawa said, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His smile was charming as always, but his eyes held a sharp glint as he did a quick look up and down at the guy.

“Wow! Y/N, I didn’t know you snagged a boyfriend while you were away!” the guy laughed with a strain.

Oikawa didn’t miss the way this guy’s gaze shifted slightly, revealing a brief flicker of distaste towards him. His own smile turned to a sneer at the sight of it.

‘Huh, this little prick,’ Oikawa thought, recognizing him as the classmate who had a crush on you in high school. That memory only fueled his irritation, making him want to pull you away from this conversation even more.

As each second passed, the more Oikawa showed how much he didn't like this guy. “Wow, it sounds like you had a great time in high school. But I’m sure nothing beats the fun we have now, right, love?” He directed an innocent smile at you, but you could feel the air thickening with intensity.

Turning back to the guy, Oikawa continued, “It’s so cute how you still remember those high school days. I guess some people never move on from their glory years.”

Your eyes widen at the jab and side-eye your smiley, 'I didn't do anything wrong' boyfriend next to you. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or pinch him for making this even more awkward than it is.

You curtly said goodbye to your classmate, not wanting to drag this out any longer. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed Oikawa’s hand and dragged him away.

Oikawa's disdain towards your friend was clear, his expression contorted with thinly veiled annoyance. He stuck out his tongue in a childish display of disapproval, causing the classmate to stand there, taken aback, and scoff in response.

As you both silently walked beside each other, Oikawa’s demeanor softened, realizing he might've overdone it a tad with this one. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his voice gentle and sincere. He squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic look.

“No, I'm sorry,” you sighed, glancing up at him. “I should've told him I had to go right when he approached me and look for you. Instead, we were put into an awkward situation."

Oikawa frowned slightly. "You don’t have to apologize. I just—I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

You stopped and turned to face him, placing your hands on your hips. "Tooru, you need to stop being so childish. Sticking your tongue out? Really?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "You saw that?"

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and exasperation on your face. "Of course I saw that. You think I wouldn't notice?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay, I admit that might've been a bit much."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "A bit much? Try a lot. You can’t keep doing that."

His pout returned. "But he was—"

"No buts," you interrupted, playfully poking his chest. "I can handle myself, alright? And you definitely don't have to worry about any other guy. You're the only one I want."

His eyes sparkled at your reassurance, his smile widening. "You know, there's no one else I'd rather have but you~" he playfully coos back, earning a soft slap to the chest from you.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Wakatoshi Ushijima

'he barely gets jealous, but when he does, his reserved demeanor slips with subtle signals'

You frequently showed up to Ushijima’s practices to support him, admiring his dedication and skill. Today was no different, but what you didn’t know was that there was a new player on the team. He was quite charming and flirtatious, so when he saw you, he couldn’t help but make a move.

“Hey sweetheart, are you lost?” the new player approached you, his hair matted with sweat and a cocky grin on his face.

“Oh no. I’m Y/N, Ushijima’s—” you started to explain, but he cut you off.

“Fan?” he guessed, leaning closer.

“Um, no—” you tried again.

“Sister?” he interrupted, his eyes scanning you with obvious interest.

Before you could speak again, a deep, familiar voice cut through the conversation, “She’s my girlfriend.”

Ushijima’s imposing presence seemed to cast a shadow over the new player as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light yet protective. You felt a slightly sweaty chest lightly press against your back, sending a shiver up your spine. His olive eyes, usually calm and composed, held a steely intensity as he assessed the situation.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Ushijima asked, his voice steady but carrying an underlying edge.

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his presence. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

The new player, clearly taken aback, tried to recover his composure. “I didn’t know, man. Just thought she was lost or something.”

Ushijima’s gaze didn’t waver, and his grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “She’s here to support me, as always. I’d appreciate it if you respected that.”

The new player nodded, mumbling a quick apology before retreating to the court. As he walked away, you could feel the tension slowly dissipate from Ushijima’s body, but his eyes remained on the player for a moment longer, his gaze eyeing him like a hawk. Ushijima never shows his emotions normally, but seeing you flustered and a bit uncomfortable by someone else had his jaw set tighter than usual.

Turning back to you, Ushijima’s expression turned non-rigid once more. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” The lines of tension in his face smoothed once he met your gaze.

You smiled up at him, the warmth of your hand over his on your shoulder conveying a silent understanding. You plant a light peck on his hand, a gentle affirmation of your gratitude. “It’s okay, Toshi," you whispered softly, your voice carrying a soothing tone. "You should go back to practice."

He nodded, his lips curling into a rare, small smile. “Just let me know if anyone bothers you.”

You leaned into him, feeling the solid reassurance of his presence. “I will. Thank you.”

As the practice continued, he kept a close eye on the new player, making sure there were no further incidents.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[shawtuzi]

girl you know what i wanna do, i wanna rendez-rendezvous ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

pairing: plug!toji x black fem!reader

cw include: porn with a little plot, drug usage ofc, a very minuscule mention death, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, smacking, choking, breath-play, some squirting, spit, lots of praise bc he’s so down bad for her while they’re fucking, PUSSYDRUNK TOJIII, backshots, prone bone position, fawking from the side, creampie n i think that’s about it!!! wc: 6.4k

ᰔ

ᡣ𐭩

ᡣ𐭩

“is it just a universal thing for all plugs to take for-fucking-ever to bring the weed? do they not like getting paid? this guy must really not like getting paid,” your babbling fell on deaf ears as geto and gojo focused on the game in front of them. occasionally they’d respond with a ‘uh huh’ or ‘i know right’ but this time they didn’t even have the decency to pretend to listen!

you huffed, picking at the charms on your nails, “you guys suck and so does your friend. i have plans later! i’d like to leave at a decent time to get ready.” geto whipped his head around to look at you, his brows furrowing, “i thought you were already dressed for the club…plus it’s not even dark out yet what you need to be getting ready for right now?”

“geto…wearing all fur boots? to the club? be smarter than that please,” you sighed, falling back against the couch. you whipped out your phone, sliding over the camera, “and for your information i’d like to get in a power nap before i go.” geto kissed his teeth, muttering something under his breath before his phone pinged, the sound catching your attention. before you could utter a word you were shushed by geto, a pout fell on your face as you fell back against the couch once more.

after taking a few pictures of yourself you grew bored once more—so of course you had to bother your friends some more. “so how did you guys even meet this guy? does he sell more than just weed? how long have you been buying from—”

“he’s here!”

“thank goddd! she’ll finally shut up, we won’t have to suffer any longer!” gojo tossed the controller on the table, his head falling in his hands. you grabbed your purse, taking out the money before standing. “i hate you guys i really do,” you glared at the two men before walking to the door—waiting for geto to walk out with you of course because stranger danger is very much real.

the sun was beginning to set, hues of orange, pink, and red swirling in the sky. “it’s so pretty out, i’m gonna need you to take a few pictures of me when we’re done,” you tugged down your mini skirt as you trailed behind geto.

you stood to the side as the two men talked—your curiosity getting the best of you as you peeked through the window. the windows were tinted of course, but you could still get a glimpse inside. now you didn’t know shit about cars but this was nice. “i wonder how far that seat goes back,” you mumbled to yourself, a small smile creeping on your lips. damn ovulation.

geto eventually moved to side, signaling that it was your turn. you straightened your back as you approached the window, your jaw almost dropping at the man in front of you. you nearly fell over when the first thing he said was ‘you’re pretty.’

“thank you, um, how much do i owe you again?” you asked, gripping the cash in your hand. toji looked you up in down, a smirk making its way onto his lips, “i like your tattoo.” he pointed to the area below your breast where ‘divine feminine’ was tatted across the curve in cursive. you grazed the tattoo with your manicured nail, your cheeks heating up.

toji opened the bag that contained your eighth before throwing a little extra weed in the baggie. he wrapped it up before holding it out for you, the baggie looking extra small in his big hand. “how much do you i owe—”

“it’s on me.”

now this made you really smile, your tooth gems now on display. “reallyyy?” you giggled, nibbling on your bottom lip. toji nodded, his eyes drifting to that damn tattoo again. his eyes flicked back to yours, “you just gotta do one little thing for me,” he spoke lowly, fist closing over the baggie. you stepped closer to the window, your heart pounding against your chest.

“and what’s that?” you fiddled with the end of your skirt, his intense eye contact now making you feel small.

“tell me your name, please?”

when you said it he practically swooned, his palms now feeling sweaty because he hasn’t felt this way since her. “such a pretty name…y/n….i like it,” toji licked his lips, his fist opening once more to hand you the weed. sure his hand might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve but you surely weren’t complaining.

“if you ever need some more please let me be the first person you come to, i wanna see you again. s’not everyday a guy comes across a pretty thing like yourself. you can get my number from sugu,” you had completely forgotten geto was waiting with you, but when you turned around he was nowhere to be found.

“must’ve went inside…eh whatever, now what were you saying?” you smiled, leaning against the car. since you were both clearly flirting you might as well give the man a little something to fantasize about. “it was very nice meeting you y/n, i hope i see you again soon,” toji gave you one last smile before pulling off, leaving you by yourself.

geto and gojo were rolling up when you came back inside, immersed in their own conversation. “you guys didn’t tell me your plug was so fucking hottttt!” you squealed, falling back into the couch, your feet kicking back and forth with excitement. “he’s so generous too….and so so cute. that scar on his lip is so sexy and he’s so big i wonder how big—”

“don’t say another word i’m begging,” gojo whined, covering his poor ears. the kissed your teeth now sitting up, “that man will be mine i’m telling you guys, he should be very scared because now i’m on the prowl.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

unknown number: hi! is this toji?

unknown number: it’s y/n from the other day, i was wondering if you were available to bring me a little something?

toji smiled at his phone, immediately saving your number. he’d hate to even admit it to himself, but he’s been anticipating a text from you for days. he just couldn’t get you outta his head! your smile, your cute lil doe eyes, your scent. you smelt so sweet, like the most expensive candies you get out for special occasions.

you made his chest tight, his palms sweaty, and his jeans tight as fuck—he just had to have you.

toji: send me your address.

toji: i’m omw.

“oooh shit—okay okay time to lock in,” you jumped up, quickly shedding your pj’s for a cuter, yet still cozy outfit to wear for toji. you settled on an oversized knit olive colored sweater and a long brown cotton skirt—yes it was an outfit that showed less skin than you were used to but hey it’s fall and hoes do get cold sometimes! just asked you were finished up adding the rest of your jewelry your phone pinged.

toji: i’m outside.

you suddenly felt nauseous, but the good kind—the excited kind of nauseous where butterflies where swarming all around your tummy. on the walk to toji’s car you held your chin up with confidence, the bracelets on your wrist dangling as you damn near strutted to the man’s car.

toji rolled the window down, a cloud of smoke swirling out of the window. “hey girl, how’re ya?” toji asked, setting the blunt he was smoking aside. you giggled, bending down to lean against the window.

“hi tojiii! m’doin’ good? you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. toji hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “i’m okay, just been working.” it was silent for a few beats before he spoke again:

“i’m glad you texted, took you long enough,” he chuckled as he bagged up your weed, not even bothering to scale it. out of instinct your brought your hands to your cheeks, the coolness of your hands bringing you some relief. he just made you so beside yourself and for what???

“well now that you have my number maybe you could drop by and we could just, you know, hangout?” there you went again giving him those doe eyes as you asked your question in the sweetest voice. toji sealed up the baggie and held it out for you, “i’d like that a lot y/n.” the way your named rolled off his tongue felt so right.

as you both continued to talk toji could notice you were shivering despite wearing that big ass sweater. “do you wanna sit in here for a minute? finish this with me?” he asked holding up the half smoked blunt. you nodded with zero hesitation, quickly making your way to the passenger side. you were immediately met with warmth as you got in the car, your body relaxing into the heated seat.

“if this sounds too rude you don’t have to answer and i apologize if it does but….how old are you? i’m not saying you look real old or anything you just look, like, more mature,” you fingers anxiously tapped against your thighs, itching to grasp at the muscles practically bulging from his compressed t-shirt.

toji laughed. not just a little chuckle or breath through the nose, but a real genuine laugh. it was amazing to say the least.

“believe it or not i’m thirty four,” he gave you a toothy grin before sparking the blunt. your eyes nearly popped out of your head at his words. this man??? thirty four???

“ohhh so you are an old man,” you giggled, the sound of your laugh giving his chest that irritatingly tight feeling again. toji playfully rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to you. “i swear once you get past twenty five everyone suddenly thinks you’re old,” and he was certainly was not wrong. he’d lost count if he many times geto and gojo called him old man just to piss him off.

“i may be a little older but i still fuck like i’m twenty one,” toji rested against the seat, his eyes flicking to you. your mouth was slightly agape as you tried to tried to think of something smart to say back but unfortunately you were left speechless. you took a hit of the blunt, turning your body more towards him. “is that so?” you asked, passing the blunt to him.

toji nodded slowly, his eyes now low and red. before either of you could say anything else toji’s phone lit up, and you being the nosey thing you were couldn’t help but glance at his phone. “who’s baby is that?” you asked pointing his lock screen. toji smiled at the picture before looking back up at you, his smile faltering the slightest bit.

“that’s…that’s my son.”

it was quiet for a few beats before you broke into a big smile, a tiny squeal slipping past your lips as you picked up his phone to examine the picture. “he’s a cutie! look at those eyes—oh and those little cheeks! he looks just like you toji,” you giggled, handing the phone back to him. toji grinned, taking his phone back from you.

“ahh thanks! he looks more like his mother to me, acts just like her too,” your eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the boys mother. “i take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.

toji was silent for a moment, his throat tightening at the mention of her. “she, uh, passed actually. a few months after megumi was born,” it was silent once again, toji was now avoiding eye contact with you. he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt you place a comforting hand on his knee. he whipped his head towards you, an apologetic look now on your face. “i’m sorry to hear that toji, but for what it’s worth i bet you’re an awesome fucking dad,” you gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling away.

“thank you, seriously. it feels nice to hear that because somedays i really wish she was here, not for me but for him. she was amazing i wish he got to know her the way i did,” toji was never the type to talk about his late wife, especially with someone he was trying to pursue, but you were different. you made him feel so safe and he barely even fucking knew you.

before he could babble anymore about her he stopped himself, fearing he’d make it even more awkward. “she sounds great toji m’sorry you lost her so soon. don’t worry though i’m sure you’ll find another love like that again,” and you meant every word you said.

“i can’t believe it’s only our second time speaking and i’ve already managed to bring up my dead wife, fuck am i doing?” he chuckled, throwing his head back against the seat. you quickly reassured him that all was well and you were grateful that he was felt so comfortable to share such a personal side of his life with you.

“i’d love to stay and talk more but gumi’s sitter has to leave early. ill see you again soon though yeah?” toji couldn’t help but brush his knuckles over the apple of your cheek, grinning when he felt the heat radiating from it. “you blushin’?” his grin now turning into a smirk.

“get away from me,” you swatted his hand away, unable to contain the smile forming on your glossed up lips. “this was real fun though, don’t keep me waiting too long now,” you gave toji one last smile before getting out of his car. the second he pulled away you whipped out your phone, immediately dialing your best friends number.

“hey…you busy? no? good because i needddd to talk about what just happened with someone.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

toji: hey pretty.

toji: you free? i wanna see you.

you squealed, kicking your feet with glee as you read toji’s messages. tonight was the night. after two months of unbearable sexual tension you were gonna claim that man in more ways than one. you quickly texted him back saying you were indeed available and to hurry his ass up.

you made your way to your closet, sifting through your clothes to find the outfit. you needed something that’ll make his head spin and dick hard…perhaps some subtle lingerie would do the job.

you finally settled on a lacy, red wine colored nightgown that showed just enough to have him wanting to see more. you brushed out your thirty inch bussdown, tugging it just the tiniest bit to see if it’d stay in place. toji was a big man and he looked like a hair puller—you were hoping you were wrong but if he was you were certainly praying your hair stayed in tact at least a little after he was through with you.

toji: i’m here. hurry it’s cold as fuck out here.

you took a deep breath, channeling your inner tina snow as you opened the door for him. “hi tojiii,” you beamed, resting your body against the door. toji’s jaw was quite literally almost to the floor as he took you in. if he looked close enough he could see your pretty lil nipple piercings through the nightgown.

“come in! come in! it’s freezing out there,” you tugged toji in your house by his sleeve, quickly shutting the door once he was inside. “what’re you all….dressed up for,” he asked lowly, nearly crushing the rello packets in his hand.

be patient. don’t get too excited. be patient.

he kept chanting that over and over in his mind but it was doing little to help him, especially since he was already sporting a semi. “oh i just thought i’d put on a little something nice for you i don’t know,” you could feel your confidence faltering under his lustful stare.

“well,” toji took a step closer to you, and then another, and then another till you both were nearly chest to chest. “i think you look really nice, sweet of you to get all dolled up for me,” he trailed his fingers over the material of your robe, chuckling the tiniest bit when he saw your bt21 cooky slippers. you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, a grin making its way onto your lips.

you slipped your smaller hand into toji’s, guiding him to the living room. he wasted no time getting comfortable, his body immediately relaxing into the plushness of your couch. you sat on the opposite end of the much to his dismay, “why you so far away from me hm? come closer.” with shaky arms you scooted closer to him until your thighs were nearly touching, but it still wasn’t quite enough for him.

you let out a tiny gasp as toji easily picked you up and say you on his lap, you could feel the full throb of his dick against your ass. “that’s better,” he smirked, squeezing your hip gently.

it was silent for a few beats before you took the rello packet from toji, two pre rolled blunts waiting in there to be smoked. “so how long do i have you for tonight?” you asked, sparking the blunt. toji ran his tongue over the scar on his lip as he watched you exhale the smoke, not even realizing you had asked him a question.

“i have until eleven, gumi’s sitter was nice enough to stay an extra hour,” ever since toji had accidentally slipped up that he’d been seeing someone megumi’s sitter has been extra generous with her time. it probably helped that she was also getting paid some very hefty overtime. you glanced at the clock on your wall reading 7:18PM. only three hours and a couple something minutes of him to yourself—it was definitely time to kick things into overdrive.

“toji?” you spoke softly, passing the blunt to him. toji hummed, taking a long drag of the blunt as he stroked your back with his free hand. you readjusted your position on his lap, your arms now wrapped securely around his neck. the next six words that came out of your mouth nearly had him busting in his pants.

“you finally gonna fuck me tonight?”

“what did you just say?” his tone was low now, boarder line growling out the words. you sighed dreamily, brushing his soft, jet black hair out of his face. “i said are you finally gonna fuck me tonight? finally gonna show me you’re not such an old man?” your manicured fingers began to scratch at his nape, making him groan. toji closed his eyes, his head falling back against the couch.

“take off your robe.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“tojiii,” you whined in defeat as toji sloppily kissed, sucked, and licked at the insides of your thighs—so close yet so far from where you really needed him to be. you made a few attempts to take your thong off but toji was having none of that and slapped your hands away each time, threatening to tie your wrist together with his belt if you tried it again.

you mewled when you felt his lips finally kiss your center over your panties, his tongue lolling out to get a taste at the wetness that seeped through them. your hands were balled into fists by your side, the urge to hump his face becoming unbearable.

“lift your hips up honey,” you heard his raspy voice speak from below you. you nearly screeched in happiness as he finally slid off your soaked panties, tiny webs of your slick sticking to your pussy. you jumped the tiniest bit when you felt a warm glob of spit fall on your clit.

“relax sweetness i got you,” was all toji said before dipping his tongue between your folds, immediately moaning at the sweet yet tart taste that was you. you felt his tongue cup your clit, the movements so soft and precise and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

you’ve been with men who claim they eat pussy for their own pleasure but toji….it was like he was making love to you with just his mouth the feeling the indescribable. each gush of your essence that spilled out was quickly slurped up by his greedy mouth, his moans nearly matching the volume of yours.

he was now drawing slow circles around your clit and that was what had your legs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing as you came on his skillful tongue. “t-toji you’re so goodddd,” you whined, shoving his face impossibly closer to your pussy.

toji finally released your clit from his lips with a pop! your cum now coating the entire lower half of his face. “do it again n’ this time put a finger in…please?” your brushed your thumb over his lips, whimpering when he sucked your thumb into his mouth. he ran his pointer and middle finger between your folds before pushing his middle finger inside, cursing under his breath at the way you were already squeezing his finger so fucking tight.

“you taste just as good as you smell pretty baby, i just knew you would though,” he licked his lips, not once taking his eyes off your cunt. “why’d you keep her from me for so long huh?” he rasped, slowly adding his ring finger into the mix. you squirmed underneath him, your hips rising each time he fucked his fingers into you. “i, uh, i-i don’t know i just—”

“you just what?” he teased, now sucking your clit into his mouth once more. your mouth dropped open, thighs immediately closing around toji’s head. you gasped wetly when you felt a rough smack against your thigh, a silent warning from toji to keep them open. you shakily opened your thighs again, your hands now finding purchase in toji’s soft locs. “you still ain’t answer my question,” he hummed, now rubbing sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb.

you shook your head in defeat, physically not being able to find the words as to why you deprived him and yourself of something so so good. “you liked teasing me pretty baby? ya liked sending me home with my dick hard each time i saw you? hm?” the squelching from your pussy got louder by the minute, you second orgasm of the night quickly approaching.

“i—”

“did you like feeling wanted by me? needed by me?” toji was now using his free hand to push down on your abdomen, smirking when he saw your legs start to shake again. all you could let out was an absurdly loud ‘oh shit!’ before you were gushing around toji’s fingers, a small stream of cum landing right on his awaiting tongue. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. he hadn’t even noticed he was now grinding against the couch, his dick now fully hard.

toji pushed your nightgown up your tummy so he was able to kiss his way up your soft skin until he finally made it to your lips. he brought his thumb to your chin, pushing down ever so slightly until your mouth was open. you knew that look all too well. you could see the hesitation in his eyes so you helped him out a bit by sticking out your tongue, letting him know he had the green light.

not even a second later toji let a glob of spit fall from lips and onto your awaiting tongue, a lovesick smile making its way onto his lips as you swallowed it. “c’mere,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. he caressed his tongue against yours, swallowing each tiny moan you let out.

“so sweet baby, even your kisses taste like honey,” he moaned against your lips, pressing his dick against your pussy. he shuddered when he felt just how warm you really were, even over his sweatpants.

“you’re so hard toji,” you whispered against his lips, your foot stretched up to push against his dick making him groan. “lemme—lemme suck you off. can i please? just a little bit?” you continued rubbing your foot against him, internally turning him into a pile of mush. toji mindlessly nodded his head, making quick work to sit back on the couch.

you stood up on shaky legs, now kneeling before toji as he stared at you like you were his prey. you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them off with ease. toji sighed in relief when his dick finally sprung free, no longer confined by his boxers.

“your dick is so pretty,” you bit down on your bottom lip, taking just a little time to admire toji in all his glory. he was long and not only that but he was insanely thick. you grabbed his dick gently, the soft, velvety skin making your mouth water. “don’t be nervous if you can’t take all of it, i know i’m kinda big,” although he sounded apologetic the shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. you had to prove yourself now—you had to give him some fucking work now.

you licked your lips before suckling the tip in your mouth, lord he was already a damn mouthful. toji hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long sigh, his head slightly tilting back. you kissed and licked your way up and down his dick, trying to make it as wet as you could before taking half of him in your mouth with ease. “a-ah shit y/n w-wait oh!” the back of his head nearly knocked against the couch as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

your throat felt so tight n hot around him it had him digging his nails into his muscly thighs, nearly drawing blood. you hummed around his dick, trying to relax your throat as much as possible. you knew he was close already, you didn’t even care if he came down your throat that instant. toji felt his balls tighten and began to frantically shake his head, “y/n please i don’t wanna cum so soon. please baby please.”

you brought your hand to his balls, now gently massaging them. he wanted to pull you away he really did, but no one has ever been able to deepthroat entirely before—you were showing him a whole new world. you began to bob your head, obnoxiously sucking on the base and tip as you did. “s-shit wait—”

unfortunately for toji it was too late for him. you felt a shot of cum hit your tongue and knew you had to milk him now for everything he was worth. you focused your lips solely on the tip, moaning as cum coated your tongue. “that’s so good baby keep sucking me like that, j-jus’ like that,” he ain’t even give a fuck no more that he came so soon. he had enough stamina to give you another mouthful of cum if you wanted it.

you finally removed his dick from your mouth, now slapping the appendage against your tongue. “now what were you saying about being too big for me,” you smiled up at him, both of your hands still stroking his dick. toji kissed his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he made quick work to remove his shirt, tossing it mindlessly to the side.

“get up here and bend over the armrest,” his voice had dropped a couple octaves and although it was a little frightening it didn’t stop the wetness pooling in your core. you stood up, about to remove your nightgown but you were stopped by toji, mumbling something about how he wanted you to keep it on.

you kneeled on the couch, bending over the armrest as you arched your back as much as possible. you could hear the crinkling of foil and quickly turned around, shaking your head at toji. “i want you raw, ‘wanna feel all of you without a stupid condom,” you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously as you voiced your request. toji was still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.

after a moment he tossed the condom aside, his hands now finding purchase on your hips. you could feel the hot base of his dick against your pussy, and you just couldn’t help but slowly move your hips back and forth. you both moaned in unison, the grip toji had on your hips now tightening.

“put it in for me,” he grunted, pulling his hips back. you licked your hand before reaching underneath you to grab his dick, giving it a few slow pumps before positioning the tip at your entrance. toji’s face scrunched up in pleasure as your pussy swallowed up his dick with ease, the dull stinging sensation hurting you in the best way possible.

it took a few minutes but he was finally able to bottom out, the tip of his dick nearly kissing your cervix. he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, the couch shifting forward the slightest bit. “good little fucking pussy,” toji grunted, spreading your asscheeks to get a nice little view of his dick fucking into you. you were taking him sooo well he was sooo proud of you.

“how you feeling pretty baby? talk to me,” toji wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your body into his chest. your arms immediately reached behind you to tug at his hair, each tug earning you a pretty moan from him right in your ear. “feels s’good to-toji, you’re so f-fucking deep,” you gasped violently when you felt his rough fingers begin to toy with your swollen clit.

toji nibbled at your ear, licking the shell of it before whispering, “yeah? pretty girl feels me in her tummy hm? oh yeah i can feel me rightttt there.” your body jolted when you felt toji press down on the small imprint of his dick. he tightened his grip around your throat, nearly cutting off your airway completely.

“lets play a little game hm? i can feel how close you are so m’not gonna let you breathe until i feel this pussy cumming around my dick, that okay with you?” he loosened his grip on your neck until you consented, he couldn’t help but smile proudly.

“alright pretty baby cmon, make that pussy cum for me,” he growled now increasing the pace of his thrusts. it was now very hard for you to breathe as toji tightened his hand around your throat once again, the action making your pussy squeeze toji’s dick impossibly tight. your mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out of your mouth as toji fucked you like he hated your guys. “almost there girl, i can fucking feel that shit cmon baby give it to me,” toji grasped at your breasts over your nightgown, tweaking at your sensitive nipples.

you began to feel lightheaded, your legs nearly giving out on you. you finally came with a silent scream, your pussy spasming around toji’s dick. just as you were at the height of your orgasm toji finally removed his hand from your throat allowing you to breathe. you fell against the armrest, your body going completely limp as toji milked your orgasm out of your. “goddamn you’re still cumming baby, such a good girl for me m’so proud of you,” toji was praising you left and right as stream after stream of your cum soaked his thighs and the couch.

after you were done toji let you rest for a moment, still inside you as he gently stroked your back. “you okay mama?” he whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a soft kiss. you hummed, nodding your head and crazy enough you still wanted more.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“oh my goddd,” your feet kicked against the couch as toji’s bigger body pushed you further into the cushions, preventing you from moving out of his grasp. he had you in a chokehold, your drool and tears dripping onto his bicep as he fucked into you like a madman. “that’s that shit….good shit right here goddamn y/n,” toji grunted in your ear, sounding genuinely frustrated at just how good your pussy was.

my mans was completely lost in the sauce. not a thought behind his eyes besides one thing—you. your warmth, your wetness, the fact that you still smelled like a goddamn s’more even with the intense smell of sex and weed in the air. for the first time in his life toji was pussydrunk.

“m’gonna cum honey, you ready for me?” a symphony of moans and whiny yes’ poured out of your trembling lips. three more strokes and toji was letting out a pornographic moan, his teeth biting down onto the soft skin of shoulder. rope after rope of his warm cum coated your walls, so much it was beginning to leak from your pussy. “so full,” you mewled, your toes curling at the warmth that now radiated throughout your entire body.

toji wholeheartedly believes that he was a man that was born to breed a whole lotta babies because it was absolutely ridiculous at how much he came—especially right now. each time he thought he was done your pussy would squeeze him once more, milking more out of him until it was almost painful. what was even worse was the he was still hard.

that’s how he ended up taking you roughly from the side. your ass was clapping back against his pelvis n thighs so hard they turned the lightest shade of pink. “y’hear how sloppy your pussy sounds honey? makes me wanna ruin you over and over again,” he growled in your ear, gripping onto your chin to have you look at him. your eyes were closed in bliss, a trail of drool slipping from your lips and onto your chin.

toji licked at the spit on your chin before giving your face a couple quick slaps, “open your eyes n’ look at me while i fuck you. cmon pretty baby lemme see those eyes.” you cracked your eyes open immediately whimpering at toji’s intense gaze. toji slowed down his pace, now settling for slow, deep strokes. “you’re so pretty,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

you gave him a weak smile, moaning when his dick hit a particularly deep spot. “can’t nobody else see you like this again except me got it? you’re my girl now. mine to hold, kiss, fuck—i want all that shit y/n. i want all of you, can i have you?” if you able to you would’ve swooned over his words, but unfortunately all your poor little fucked up brain could muster was a raspy ‘yes.’

toji gave you a sweet smile and a lil kiss before going back to his brutal pace, the couch thumping the ground with each thrust. “that’s what i like to hear honey, gonna treat you so well. make you the happiest girl in the world i promise,” and he meant it. every promise he whispered in your ear he would make sure to keep it until the end of his days. you were the one—he was sure of it.

“i’m gonna cum toji,” you whined, bringing your hand down to rub furiously at your clit. toji gave you a helping hand by spreading your lips, the squelching noise from your pussy increasing as he did so. “m’gonna cum too honey, let’s do it together cmon m’right there,” you both so so close until toji accidentally slipped out of your pussy, a pearl of cum dribbling from the tip.

you were just too wet he could barely fuck into you without slipping out once more, frustration overtaking the both you. “goddammit,” he grunted, gripping his dick tightly once again before slipping back in you—this time he just kept a hold on it. “fuck back into me baby, you can do it there you go,” toji moaned in bliss as you fucked back into him, your wetness dripping onto his knuckles.

“yes yes yes f-fuck!” you pressed your backside into him as much as possible as your orgasm took over you, his trailing not far behind. the hand he was using to hold his dick steady was now holding your leg up, gripping onto the soft flesh of your thigh as he fucked into you with shallow strokes. he came inside your pussy with a deep groan, pulling out to cover your pussy with the rest of it.

toji gently set your leg down, now pulling your trembling body into his chest. “it’s okay pretty thing we’re done now, i got you just breathe with me,” you took a couple deep breaths, running your hand along toji’s toned body just to make sure he was really there—that this really happened.

“that was good, thank you toji,” you whispered, nuzzling your face in his chest. toji kissed the crown of your head, taking yet another deep inhale of your sweet scent. “no thank you, that was the best sex i’ve ever fucking had and i mean it,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. you glanced at the clock on your wall, whining when you said it was thirty minutes till eleven.

“i guess you’ll have to get going soon hm?” you mumbled, making toji frown. toji nibbled on his lip before shaking his head, “don’t worry about it honey i’ll take care of it, you just rest up yeah?” he gave your forehead another kiss, shushing any protest you had about him having to leave.

once you were fast asleep toji reached for his phone that was on the coffee table, careful not to wake you. he dialed the sitters number, praying for the absolute best.

“mr. fushiguro! how’s your date going, will you be home soon?” toji felt horrible for what he was about to ask but he at least had to try. “it’s going good, thank you! actually i was wondering if you would stay the night with megumi? paying you overtime is no problem in fact i’ll triple it! i just wanna spend as much time with my girlfriend as i can,” sure he hadn’t properly asked you to be his woman yet but she didn’t have to know that.

the line was quiet for a moment before the sitter started laughing, “of course i wouldn’t mind saying the night with him! i haven’t seen you this giddy over a woman since mrs. fushiguro, please enjoy your night and i’ll see you in the morning!” after multiple thank you’s toji hung up, his heart swelling with happiness.

“baby….hey i’m able to stay the night im gonna take us to bed, where’s your room?” you mumbled out the directions to your room and before you knew it you were wrapped in your comforter with toji glued to your side.

[lillypad910]

Pretty Girl

Mechanic! Eddie Munson x Chubby! f! Reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, giggly couple, reader is a bit self conscious about her body, Eddie is down BAD. Not pre-read, might have errors

Summary: A shopping trip with Nancy and Robin have you going home with your first set of lingerie. You put it on to surprise your boyfriend when he gets home. Things lead exactly where you wanted.

A/n: This is oddly cute.

You had gone to the mall that week with Robin and Nancy, just doing a normal shopping spree for some new clothes for the season. But then you passed that certain store.

The mannequin bodies sit on the shelves, underwear and lingerie decorating them and the surfaces around them. Nancy walks in first, her attention gravitating to one of the tables. Robin awkwardly follows after. You stand in the door frame for a minute before slowly stepping towards your friends.

“This one’s cute.” Nancy lifts a simple white set, lacy and frilly, smirking as she holds it up to your bigger body.

“You’d look cute in it! Eddie would loose his mind,” Robin comments.

“I…” you hesitate, taking the set into your hands, “I’ve never worn lingerie before…”

Nancy smiles at you, “Well, there is no time to start like the present!”

They shove you into a dressing room, and standing just outside, they wait for you to try it on. You look at yourself in the floor-length mirror, subconsciously raising your arms over your exposed chubby stomach. You thought it was a cute little get-up, but if it was cute on you, you couldn’t tell.

You open the door to the dressing room, giving them a shy smile but not looking at their faces. Robin audibly aw’s, “You look so cute!” She pushes you into the dressing room, pulling Nancy in with her, shutting the door once again. Her hands place on your waist, grazing her fingers over the bits of fabric that squeeze around your stomach.

“It fits you nicely! You look beautiful. Eddie won’t know what hit him!” Nancy smiles at you as Robin practically feels you up.

“Shit if he’s not down, I am.” “Robin!!” You smack her on her arm making her laugh.

“No, but seriously, you look great. You should buy it!” You look at yourself again. You know Eddie would like it, the lace and ribbons giving him something to mess with while he has you on his lap, fucking into you until you’re a whimpering-

“(Y/n)?” Nancy’s voice drags you out of the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Buy it.”

“Ok…”

You stand in Eddie’s trailer, the lingerie now on your body once again. Robin told you to wear it for when he gets home.

“Surprise him with a treat.” She had said.

You look at yourself once more, feeling a little silly with how dolled up you got. If this goes to plan, your makeup with be ruined before long.

You hear the gravel outside the trailer, then a car turning off, and a door shutting. You know it’s not Wayne, knowing he already left for a shift tonight when you got here. You step out into the doorway of Eddie’s room, trying to cutely half-hide yourself behind the door. The front door opens, your lanky boyfriend stepping into the home, throwing his keys into the dish on a table. He shuts it, locking it before turning around. His overalls in his hands from work, oil still on his hands and t-shirt from his mechanic job.

“Welcome home, Eds, how was work?” You step out a bit farther, noticing him stepping closer to the kitchen without looking up.

“Hey, Doll, it was good.” He washes his hands in the kitchen sink, before grabbing some mail off the counter. You hesitate before stepping out, standing in the archway into the kitchen and staring at him. “How was your day, Sweetheart-“ his head looks up as he spoke, immediately his whole body freezing when he sees you.

He drops the mail back on the counter, suddenly not interested in the check that was there for him.

“I bought it today, I hope it- Eds!” Before you can finish your sentence, you’re scooped up into his arms and thrown over his shoulder. “Eddie Munson, put me down!” You hit at his back, only to yelp when a hard smack hits your very exposed ass.

You watch as you both enter the doorframe to his room, before being thrown down on the bed. “Eds-“ his lips meet yours, crawling himself up onto the bed, his hands gliding up from your ankles to your thighs.

“You can’t just wear this get-up and not expect me to have fun, Doll.” His voice makes you blush. Your thighs try to press together but he slots himself in between them before you can.

“Look at you, Baby girl… All this just for me?” He leans close to you, grazing his fingers over the garters on your thighs. “So pretty for me.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, pressing his chest against yours.

“Eddie, your clothes are all dirty.” You let out a soft giggle, feeling him nuzzle into your neck and leaving soft kisses in his wake.

“That can be easily remedied...” He quickly pulls away. He sits up on his knees yanking his shirt over his head and quickly shaking off his pants. You giggle as you watch him struggling to kick his jeans off his foot. “There.” He leans back in immediately catching your lips with his, kissing you with such love you feel yourself melting into his touch.

“Eddie,” you say his name softly in a small break he gives you in between kisses.

“Hmm?” He moves his lips across your jaw, slowly kissing down your neck.

“Eddie, you’re being really sweet, but I wore this for a reason.” You lean into him a little, trying to get him to act rather than just kiss you. A soft moan leaves him and you feel his hand squeeze at your hip, tangling his finger in the side of your panties.

“I know… I’m working on it… gotta make sure my girl knows… I appreciate her efforts” his sentence is broken between kisses, “Now, relax and let me worship my pretty girl.” He kisses your lips one more time before gliding his fingers towards your core, pressing his digits softly into the fabric to tease you.

“Eddie…” you moan out his name as his kisses down your chest, one hand pressing his fingers into you through the fabric, the other gliding over the lacy bra of the lingerie. His hand removes from your body, making you whimper a bit before they grip at your thighs and lay you down onto your back, your legs now up by his waist.

“So beautiful, gonna make you feel so good, Sweetheart.” You moan as his hands pull at the ribbons on the sides of the waist band, untying it from your body. "Too bad this doesn’t have a hole for me, remind me to make one later, but for now,” he pulls down the panties, removing them from you.

He lowers down, spreading your legs wider as he kisses down your stomach.

“Eddie…!” You gasp as he buries his nose into your cunt. You buck your hips up, nudging his face to get more into you, and he doesn't complain.

Eddie does his damn best eating out your pussy, lapping up everything you give him. He grips at your thighs, digging his fingers into the skin, massaging his thumbs into the fat. You can't help but moan, reaching for him and grabing at those gorgeous curls, raking your nails on his scalp. The action earns a soft groan, and you watch as his hips buck into the mattress.

"God, so good, Eddie." You barely can get out the phrase, trying to focus on his tongue as it swirls over your clit. He burries his face more making you giggle.

Fuck, Eddie loves your pussy.

"Eds," You groan out, pulling a bit more at his hair, causing his mouth to separate from you.

"Hmm?" He hums at you, looking over that blissed out expression you have. God, what he'd do to make you look like that all day. "What is it, Sweetheart...?" He moves one hand to the place you want him most, running his fingers through your slit.

"Is this what you want?" He asks, his cheeks flushing at his own words as he slowly inserts a finger into you, "Hmm? You want my fingers in you?" You let out a soft whimper as his fingers curl inside you, lightly thrusting in and out.

He moves his fingers in and out of you slowly, gaining lovely moans and groans from you. Eddie loves hearing you moan, loves watching you get off on his fingers.

"So good, Eds," You mumble, watching as his head lowers once more to suck on your clit. Fuck.

He looks at you with such love, his pupils blown as he fingers you, loving the noises you make for him.

"Shit, Eds. I'm gonna-" You grip the sheets under you, feeling your legs starting to shake as you are oh so close to coming undone on his fingers. Eddie pulls away just before you can go over the edge, lifing up onto his hands and crawling over you, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him, that slightly salty taste that he loves so much.

"Can I...? Please?" Eddie looks at you pleadingly, placing his hips perfectly between your thighs, grinding himself against your soak cunt. "Babe, please..." He's so needy.

"Of course, Eds." You give him another kiss, pulling your hands up to wrap around the back of his neck, holdin him close to you. You spread your legs further, allowing his cock to have better access to you.

Eddie whimpers, feeling his swollen tip brush against you, he reaches down, grabbing the base of his cock. "I need you so bad, Sweetheart... God, been thinking about this all day." He slowly pushes himself inside you, both of you moaning as his cock buries into you. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" You look up at him, watching as he stares down at where you are now connected. "That good?" Eddie looks up at you, a smile on his face as he lets out a soft laugh.

"Better. So much better." He gives you a soft kiss, repositioning himself so your legs are closer to his hips, letting him push just a bit deeper.

"Eddie..." You moan out his name, feeling his cock twitch inside you as a response.

"Are you good?" He asks, obviously joking a bit. "You look a bit blissed there."

"I'm good, I'm good..." You mumble, leaning into his shoulder a bit. "You can move, Eds."

Eddie takes no time with that, slowly dragging his hips back before sinking them back into you, earing the most beautiful moan from you. He keep it nice and slow, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

"Oh fuck..." You focus on the feeling of his cock pushing into you, feeling him hit deep with ever thrust.

"God, I love this pussy." Eddie chuckles a bit, gripping at your hips as he begins to speed up a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah, you feel so good, Sweetheart." He groans as he nuzzles his face into your hair, letting the scent of your floral shampoo fill his nose. "So good."

You can't help but let out a soft giggle, but this just spurs him on, encouraging him to gain more force. "Oh-" You gasp as his cock hits that perfect spot, making your toes curl. "Shit, Eddie, right there."

"I know, Baby. Jesus, your squeezing me so hard when I hit there." His breath picks up with yours as his hips continue to move perfectly for that one place. Thrusting deep and good, over and over again.

It doesn't take long for you both to finish, it never does for you two.

You both lie there, your hearts racing at you giggle about it, Eddie snuggled into your neck. "I love you," Eddie nuzzles into your skin, leaving soft kisses on the serface of your shoulder.

"I love you."

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

@thepurplelovewitch

[pucked-bunnie]

book club ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: fluff ⎜romance ⎜ warnings: this will be cute af! ⎜ mentions of mental health ⎜ panic attacks ⎜ quinn is on the struggle bus ⎜ synopsis: when you meet the captain of the vancouver canucks in your bookstore - an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more. word count: 4.4k authors note:  this came because of a book I read recently (daydream by Hannah Grace) and how much Mr Quinn Hughes has been talking about reading in his interviews recently. do we want a sequel? cause I kind of want to write a sequel.

(unedited)

+

+

“Is there anything I can help you with today or are you just browsing?” You question, your head raising from the paperback book in your lap at the soft chiming as the door to the shop slowly swings open. 

The man standing in the doorway looks slightly out of place, his frame clad in a hoodie and jeans, his dark hair damp from the rain outside. He blinks, seemingly caught off guard by your question, and then offers a small, sheepish smile.

“Uh, just browsing,” he replies, his voice quiet but warm. He steps further inside, the scent of rain mingling with the comforting aroma of old books and the cinnamon apple candle you have burning.

You watch him for a moment as he walks down the aisle, his fingers lightly grazing the spines of books. He looks oddly familiar. You shrug and return to your book, though your attention keeps drifting toward the stranger wandering between the shelves, picking up book and flipping to the back before placing them gently back on the shelf.

After a few minutes, he pauses by a shelf and picks up a copy of The Great Gatsby. He flips through a few pages, his brows furrowing in concentration, before glancing in your direction.

“Do you have any recommendations? Something classic, but not too heavy?” he asks.

You close your book and smile, standing up from behind the counter. “Sure, I’ve got a few ideas.” You make your way over, brushing past a display table. “Are you into fiction or something more factual?”

“Fiction,” he says, his lips quirking up at the corners. “I need a break from reality.”

“Don’t we all?” you murmur, your fingers skimming the shelf before pulling out a copy of Anne of Green Gables. “This one’s a good place to start, it’s a coming of age story something most of us can relate to.” He takes the book, his hand brushing yours, and for a fleeting moment, his gaze locks with yours. 

“Thanks,” he says softly.

As he checks out, you notice the name on his credit card -

Quinn Hughes. 

It clicks. 

He’s the captain of the Vancouver Canucks — someone the city practically idolises. But here, in your little bookstore, he seems more like a quiet, unassuming guy who just loves books.   

“Did you want a bag or would you prefer to just carry it?” You question, trying to clear your throat and work up the courage to make eye contact with the stranger. 

“A bag would be nice.” He agrees, watching you closely as you grab out a paper bag from under the counter sliding the book and receipt into the small brown bag, placing it on top of the table for him to grab. “Can I ask what your opening hours are?” He asks quickly, his eyes finally leaving your face as he glances around the shop, a soft smile on his face. 

“We are open between ten AM and ten PM.” You say quietly, watching as he nods his gaze questioning. “I decided to keep the store open a little later then normal because there’s nothing worse then finishing a book and not being able to buy the sequel because everything is closed.” You explain, Quinn nodding his head appreciatively. 

You watch as Quinn leaves the store, briefly glancing back over his shoulder as the door closes behind him before he pulls his hood up over his head and walks out into the rain - the bag with the book safely tucked inside his hoodie. 

For the next few days, anytime the small bell above the door rings - your head shoot up from the book you’re reading a part of you disappointed when it’s not the person you were hoping for - the brown haired, blue eyed athlete seemingly a figment of your imagination. 

“I should’ve asked for his autograph.” You mumble to yourself as you sip on your hot chocolate from the cafe down the road, the overly hot, hot chocolate burning your tongue in the best way possible - a new paperback sitting on the counter in front of you, your pen and sticky tabs sitting just to the side. 

When you had opened the book store you never thought it would do as well as it had recently - and you had taken it upon yourself to give the environment as much of a friendly comforting feel as possible and often that meant reading as many books as possible to be able to recommend books as best as you could to customers who had no idea what they were looking for. Not to mention to constant playing YouTube book reviews you played when cooking dinner to keep up to date with the most popular releases as of late. 

You most recent read involving a large blue man and an abandoned space ship - your focus solely on your book as the bell above the door jingles softly, the sound of shoes scuffing barely pulling your nose out of the book. “Is there anything I can help you with today or are you just browsing?” The words come out from instinct as you flick to the next page in your book. 

“I was actually hoping for another recommendation.” The sound of the voice you’d been hoping to hear all week hitting you like a train - your head snapping up as your hand shuts your book abruptly. 

“Oh, welcome back.” You say quickly, wishing you could ram your head through a wall as you try to slide your very obvious alien romance novel under the counter before he can spot the cover. “I take it you liked Anne of Green Gables?” 

“It was better then I was expecting.” He says with a smile, taking a few steps towards the counter picking up your sticky tabs from the surface. “What are these for?” He questions. 

“Annotating.” You say, his gaze flicking up to you urging you to continue. “It when you use the tabs, to pinpoint parts of the book you want to remember or find easily - some people also highlight parts or write notes while they read.” You explain, pointing to your pen and highlighter just besides the till. 

Quinn nods thoughtfully, turning the small pack of sticky tabs over in his hands. “So, you mark your favourite parts or... things that stand out to you?”

“Exactly,” you say, a hint of excitement creeping into your tone. “Sometimes it’s a line that resonates or a moment that’s so well-written it gives you chills. Other times it’s just something funny or sweet that makes you smile.”

He sets the tabs back down and leans casually against the counter, his curious gaze locked on yours. “Do you annotate every book you read?”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “Not all of them. Just the ones that feel special in some way. It’s like having a conversation with the book, leaving little notes for myself for when I reread it later. It makes the experience more personal.”

Quinn’s lips twitch into a smile. “That’s... actually really cool. I’ve never thought about reading like that before.”

“Well, if you ever decide to give it a try, you know where to find some sticky tabs.” You grin, gesturing toward the colorful pack he had just set down. “Now, what kind of recommendation are you looking for today?”

He scratches the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. “Something uplifting but still meaningful. Maybe with a little romance but not too cheesy.”

You nod, walking around the counter toward the shelves. “I think I’ve got just the thing.” Your fingers dance along the spines until you land on The Night Circus. You pull it out and hand it to him, watching as he studies the cover.

“It’s a beautifully written fantasy,” you explain, “about a magical competition between two young illusionists who—well, I don’t want to spoil too much—but there’s a bit of romance and plenty of heart. It’s the kind of book that feels like stepping into another world.”

He flips through the pages, nodding slowly. “This sounds perfect.”

As he heads back to the counter with the book, you notice him glance briefly at the cover of the alien romance novel you’d tried to hide earlier. His smirk is subtle but unmistakable. “That one looks... interesting,” he teases, gesturing toward it.

Your cheeks flush, and you cross your arms in mock indignation. “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Everyone needs a guilty pleasure read now and then.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckles, sliding his card across the counter. “Maybe next time you can convince me to try it.”

“Challenge accepted,” you reply, handing him the receipt and his new book. As he walks toward the door, you can’t help but feel a strange flutter in your chest. He pauses in the doorway, glancing back at you with that same warm smile.

“Thanks for the recommendation,” he says, pausing for a moment by the door, his mouth opening to say something before closing again, making a quick exit from the store as he shakes his head. 

You realised then that you still didn’t get his autograph. 

+

+

The following days pass quietly. Customers filter in and out, each leaving with a book or two, sometimes stopping for a quick chat about their latest reads. The little shop felt as cozy as ever, especially as the November chill seeped into the city. You added a new blanket to the armchair near the window and made sure the candles on the counter burned brightly, casting a warm, flickering glow over the shelves. But even as you chatted with regulars and recommended your favourite books to curious new visitors, you found yourself glancing toward the door more often than you’d like to admit.

It wasn’t until a week later that the bell rang, and your head shot up to find him standing in the doorway again. Quinn was wearing another hoodie, this one deep navy, with a beanie pulled over his dark hair. His cheeks were tinged pink from the cold, and he held a steaming coffee cup in one hand.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and casual as he stepped inside. “I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I’d stop by for another book.”

You blinked, trying not to seem too eager, though your heart was thundering in your chest. “Back so soon? I take it you finished The Night Circus?”

His smile widened, and he nodded. “I couldn’t put it down. That whole circus world—it was just... magical. I don’t think I’ve read anything like it before.”

“I told you it was special.” You smiled back, standing a little straighter. “So, are you here for another recommendation? Or just to give me a glowing review of my impeccable taste?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. But I also just wanted to say thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited about reading before.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you busied yourself tidying the counter to hide your reaction. “Well, in that case, I’d better keep the streak going. What are you in the mood for this time?”

He leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. “I trust your judgment. Surprise me.” You walk over to the shelves just to the side of the counter - having already scouted some recommendations earlier in the week just in case the hockey player happened to stop by. 

“I see you’re reading another romance?” Quinn questions as he picks your current read up off the counter, flipping to the back to read the synopsis his eyes widening in surprise as you turn to face him with a sheepish grin. Your book recommendation in hand as you slowly make your way back to the counter. 

“So the guys a hockey player?” Quinn questions as he places his coffee on the counter, flicking through the pages. “Do you um… do you watch hockey?” 

“Kind of?” You respond, your shoulders sagging as you watch his face fall slightly, “I mean we’re in Vancouver so it’s kind of hard to avoid sometimes.” You let out a soft laugh before placing your next book for him on the counter. 

“So you know who I am?” Quinn’s question sends a pang to your chest, his earlier friendliness seeming to fall away. Your head just nodding as you let out a long sigh. 

“I’m really sorry I didn’t mention anything sooner. I just thought you wouldn’t want to be bothered about it, especially because you said you were here to look for something to escape reality.” You try to explain quickly, grimacing as the words come out of your mouth. 

“Is there any chance we can start this over?” You ask quietly, Quinns eyes meeting yours as he nods. “Okay, wait give me a second.” You say quickly, turning to face the back wall, and taking a deep breath before turning around to face hime again. 

“Oh my god!” You squeal a little, clasping your hands together in feigned excitement, “Are you the Quinn Hughes, captain of the Vancouver Canucks and winner of the Norris trophy?” You exclaim, fanning at your face as a smile blooms on his face. “I never thought that there would be a celebrity in my little corner of the world.” You continue, laughing a little as Quinn shakes his head at your antics. 

“Okay, Okay I get what you’re trying to do.” He says through a soft laugh, his hands reaching out to pull your hands back down to the counter, his skin warm against yours, his hands lingering for just a moment longer then necessary before he pulls away. 

“It just seemed like you wanted to be seen as a normal dude, and I wanted to respect that.” You say softly, sliding the book across the counter. “This one is about an older gentleman who’s very grumpy on the outside but has such a big heart underneath it all. One of my favourites to be honest.” You admit as he picks up the book to scan the cover. 

“How much?” Quinn asks but you shake your head. 

“This ones on the house - consider it an apology gift.” You say quickly, watching as Quinn tucks the book into his coat before grabbing his coffee off the counter top. 

Before he left, he paused by the door, hesitating for a moment before turning back to you. “You know,” he started, his voice softer, “I wasn’t just passing through today. I... was actually hoping to see you.”

“Oh, well I’m glad that you did.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Quinn lingers by the door for a moment, the warmth of his smile softening the sharp November chill outside. “I’ll see you around?” he says, his voice tinged with hope.

You nod, clutching the edge of the counter to keep your hands from fidgeting. “Definitely. You know where to find me.” 

He chuckles softly, pushing the door open as the bell above it chimes. “Have a good night,” he says, his voice carrying just enough warmth to leave your chest feeling a little lighter as he steps out into the cold.

The door shuts behind him, and the shop feels quieter than before, even with the soft hum of the heater. You glance toward the book you were reading before he arrived, but your focus is elsewhere now, your thoughts buzzing with the memory of his laugh, his touch, and the way he had looked at you like you were more than just the owner of a small bookstore.

That night, as you close up shop, you notice a faint trace of coffee on the counter where Quinn had set his cup down. A small smile tugs at your lips as you wipe it clean, wondering if it was silly to feel so giddy over a few brief conversations and a mutual love of books. 

The following week unfolds in much the same way—quiet mornings, steady afternoons, and the comforting routine of recommending books to customers. But every time the bell above the door rings, a small part of you hopes it’s him again.

On a slow Thursday evening, as the rain drums steadily against the windows, the bell chimes, and there he is—Quinn Hughes, looking a little damp and undeniably shaken.

“You’re becoming a regular,” you tease but the smile fades from your face as you take in his expression. His eyes are wide and darting, his chest rising and falling with quick, uneven breaths. Quinn looks like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Quinn?” you ask softly, concern replacing the lighthearted tone in your voice. You step out from behind the counter, keeping your movements slow and unthreatening. “Hey, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he runs a hand through his damp hair, his fingers trembling. “I—I just…” He trails off, pressing a hand to his chest as if trying to physically hold himself together. “I needed to be somewhere…safe.” The weight of his words hits you, and your heart clenches. You glance around the store, dimly lit and quiet save for the rain outside. It’s a cozy space, filled with the comforting scent of old pages and polished wood. If he thinks of this place as safe, then you’ll do everything you can to keep it that way.

“Okay,” you say gently. “You’re safe here, Quinn. Do you want to sit down?”

He nods, but his movements are stiff and jerky, like his body isn’t quite obeying him. “I don’t know if I can.” He says softly. 

You nod, taking a few more steps forwards, gently reaching your hands out to take hold of his - your palms slipping together as you start to walk backward, “I’ve got you, Quinn.” You guide him to the little seating nook by the fiction section, the one with the oversized armchair and the weighted knit throw you brought in last winter.

“Here,” you say, draping the blanket over him once he sinks into the chair. His hands clutch the edges of the armrests, knuckles white. “Just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his breaths still coming too fast and shallow. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he manages a shaky inhale, following it with a slow, uneven exhale, his shoulders slumping forwards as his eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of gratitude in them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice raw. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to barge in like this.”

“Don’t apologise,” you say firmly, pulling up a stool so you’re sitting at his level, your hands gently placed on his knees in reassurance. “Everyone needs a place to land sometimes.” Quinn nods slightly, and his breathing starts to even out, though his hands are still trembling. You stay with him, offering quiet reassurances, and after a while, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease.

“You want some tea?” you offer, keeping your tone light and warm. “Or maybe something stronger, if you’re in the mood for the questionable bottle of wine I keep in the back for emergencies.”

That earns you a faint, fleeting smile. “Tea sounds good,” he says, his voice steadier now.

You nod and head to the little kitchenette in the back, your mind racing. Whatever storm Quinn is weathering, you can feel its echoes lingering in the air. 

But for now, he’s here, and he’s safe. And that’s enough. 

You return with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, the kind you save for late nights when the world feels too heavy. He takes it with a murmured “thanks,” his fingers still a little unsteady as they curl around the mug. You sit back down, close enough to offer reassurance but far enough to give him space.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The rain fills the silence, a soft, rhythmic backdrop. Quinn takes small sips of the tea, the warmth of the drink seeming to help him settle. His shoulders relax a fraction more, though the haunted look in his eyes hasn’t entirely faded.

Quinn moves slowly, his hand reaching out to grab the leg of your chair, dragging it across your hardwood floors until its touching his chair, his shoulder just grazing yours lightly as he settles back into drinking his tea. 

Finally, he breaks the silence. “I… I don’t usually get like this,” he says, his voice low and hesitant. He stares into the tea like it might hold the answers he’s searching for. “It’s just been… a lot lately.”

You nod, not pushing him to say more. “Sometimes it builds up,” you say softly. “And then it feels like there’s no room left to hold it all.”

He looks at you, his gaze piercing despite the exhaustion in it. “Exactly,” he says, almost surprised that you get it.

You shrug, offering a small, understanding smile. “I think everyone’s been there in one way or another. It doesn’t make it any less hard, though.”

Quinn exhales shakily and leans back in the chair, the mug cradled in his hands. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he admits. “I was just… walking, and then I thought of this place.”

The vulnerability in his words tugs at something deep inside you. “I’m glad you came,” you say honestly. “You don’t have to explain, Quinn. Whatever’s going on, you’re welcome here—anytime.”

For the first time since he walked in, the tension in his jaw eases. He nods, his lips pressing into a faint, almost-smile. “Thanks. That… means a lot.”

You stay with him, the quiet presence he seems to need. Over time, the storm within him appears to subside, his breathing calm and his grip on the mug steady. Watching as you interact with customers who come into the store - each of them acknowledging him with a glimpse of familiarity but he watches as you quickly redirect their attention, giving him much needed respite.  When the rain finally lets up and the evening deepens into night, he looks at you again to find you already staring at him from your spot in front of the bookshelves, a hint of colour returning to his cheeks.

“I should probably head out,” he says, though he doesn’t seem entirely ready to leave.

“Only if you’re feeling up to it,” you reply. “There’s no rush.”

He hesitates, then nods. “I’ll be okay. Thanks for… everything. For not making it weird.”

You laugh lightly. “Weird is kind of my specialty, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Quinn’s smile this time is real, small but genuine. He sets the mug down and pulls his jacket tighter around himself. Before he steps out into the damp night, he pauses.

“Seriously. Thank you.”

“You know where to find me,” you say, and with that, he slips out into the night, the bell above the door chiming softly behind him.

You watch him go, your heart heavy with worry but lighter with the knowledge that, even if only for a little while, he found some peace here. And when the store falls quiet again, you return to the counter, feeling a strange new thread connecting you to the boy who sought shelter in your little bookshop.

+

+

Your head shoots up at the chime of the bell, a smile blooming on your face as the sight of Quinn a large bouquet of flowers in his hands as he glances towards you nervously. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” You jokes, closing your book on the counter, sliding off your stool to make your ways towards him, “If it isn’t my favourite regular.” 

“I just wanted to stop by and give you these.” He says softly, handing over the sunflowers wrapped in craft paper with twine holding it all together, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as you take the flowers from him. “They reminded me of you, and felt like a good way to thank you for everything.” He explains, clearing his throat as you reach out a finger to gently stroke the soft yellow petals. 

“They’re beautiful, Quinn.” You say, whisking the flowers over to the counter dropping into a squat to look for the white vase you keep here in case your shipments of new releases come with decorations. “Thank you for this but you really didn’t have to.” You say softly, placing the vase on the counter and reaching for your scissors to release the bundle. 

“There actually one more thing…” He begins, taking a few deep breaths as you pause your movements, watching him curiously. “My team is having a family skate in a few weeks and I was wondering whether you might want to come?” His cheeks burn red as he watches your mouth fall open in surprise. 

“Like just as friends or—” 

“Like as a date?” Quinn interrupts, cursing himself in his head for being so rude, his eyes meeting yours as they light up with the smile blooming on your face. 

“I’d love to, Quinn.” You say quickly, stopping his shame spiral, “But I do have to warn you that I’m a pretty good skater, you’re going to have to do a lot to impress me.” You chuckle, a smile finally lifting Quinn’s lips as he nods. 

“I’m sure I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He murmurs. 

“Good,” you tease, leaning slightly closer, your voice soft. “I can’t wait to see them.”

Quinn swallows hard, his cheeks still pink as he nods again, his confidence growing with your encouragement.

“You might regret saying that,” he says with a small smirk. “I’ve been skating since I could walk, you know.”

“Is that a challenge?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he replies, his smirk turning into a full grin now. “Guess you’ll have to show up to find out.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” you assure him, the excitement bubbling in your chest evident in your tone. “And don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re supposed to be the professional.”

Quinn chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as his nerves fade into pure anticipation. “Deal. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re trying to keep up.”

“Bold words, Hughes,” you fire back playfully. “I’ll see you on the ice.”

As you part ways, you can’t help but feel a rush of giddy energy. The thought of skating with him, of sharing a slice of his world, fills you with both nerves and excitement. Quinn, meanwhile, walks away with a spring in his step, already envisioning the day and how he’s going to make sure it’s a skate neither of you will forget.

[aliteralsemicolon]

Spencer unintentionally expresses his love through acts that seem so insignificant on his part but they mean the world to you.

Buying flowers he almost walked past on his way home from work, but they reminded him of you. You honestly didn't expect them. You've never believed yourself to be someone people would go out of their way for. But when he explains what they symbolise and why they reminded him of you, it takes everything in you to fight back tears.

You want them to be the first thing you see when you wake up and the last thing you see when you go to sleep, after Spencer; who's surprised to see them taking over most of the surface area on your bedside table when he comes out of the shower. How they're being held in your favourite pitcher catches his eye. The one you found at a farmers market and refuse to let anybody use it unless it's for a special occasion.

"Tomorrow," you turn your attention to your boyfriend at the sound of his voice and watch as he climbs into the bed next to you, "we'll get you a proper vase."

He lands a gentle kiss on your shoulder before laying his head down on the pillow and meeting your eyes. They haven't left his face since landing on it. Your heart feels so overwhelmingly full and you don't have a large enough vocabulary to express that feeling. Seeing your focused gaze and reserved smile, Spencer begins to ask if you're okay.

A verbal response isn't enough. How can you explain that his tiny drop of affection has caused such a large rippling effect into the lake made up of your love for him? Adoration engulfs all sense and the only reasonable way to channel it is with a kiss on the height of his cheek.

Then another as your hands cup his jaw.

And another.

And then one on the tip of his nose.

Again, on the bridge.

Then his eye.

Forehead.

A smile creeps on his face and fizzles into a bashful chuckle as you basically attack his face with kisses. It's as if your emotions spill from your heart into his, taking him over with the same warmth and overwhelming longing. He cups the back of your elbows and his fingertips graze over the back of your arms as he envelopes you into a hug, launching his own attacks of pecks on any part of your skin that he can.

The room fills will the sound of giggles, shuffling and kisses. Small whispers of "You're so pretty", and promises of "I love you", "forever" and "always". You hold each other tight throughout it all. Your eyes drift to the flowers standing in their temporary home and make a mental note to learn how to care for them properly. You want to dedicate the same amount of care to them as Spencer does for you.

You've never had a favourite flower before. Now you do. Not because of their official symbolism, but because of what they symbolise for you. So this is how it feels to be loved.

this blurb is me long story shorting a fic I abandoned for my birthday a couple months ago but sometimes I still think about this and AHHHHH

[itachiiwrites]

A situationship with Rockstar!Suguru was a poision and it's counteragent at the same time.

Every time your friends tell you that you should get out of your situationship which leaves you in shambles emotionally, everytime, you crawl back to him each time with equal reverence. The guy had an unbelievable chokehold on you despite the bread-crumming, the love-bombing and then eventual ghosting for a short periods of time which was long enough to make you believe that you were slowly bordering towards insanity.

Your friends don't really get the appeal, sure.. he's only 6'2, with a lethal face card, sexy eyes, with a manly built and a slutty waist, suave voice that gets millions screaming, not to mention those raven hair that cascade so beautifully over his shoulders and he was packing down there but— here was the catch. He was manipulative, cunning, they'd even go on the length to call him shrewd.

And it wasn't like you disagreed but...it was as if his dick had left an imprint not only in your cunt but also your brain so that, any rational thought of leaving him behind and moving on would simply go down the drain.

Rockstar!Suguru knew better and he never lets the thought of leaving him get to your head, even it does, he'd immediately distract you. Like now, having you sit on his face, your hands grip onto the headboard for its dear life, miserably trying to convince him that he's no good for you.

But he only hums louder, grazing his teeth against your clit before he pulled away with a loud smack of his lips from your cunt, the nectar dribbling down his chin.

"You were sayin' somethin', darling?"

"I..I don't think we should do this..anymore, I'm gonna start seriously dating people.." You explain, a tad bit breathlessly and he scoffs condescendingly before handling you casually, your body now braced onto his waist in a straddle.

"And you think anyone else will eat your pussy this good?" He speaks in his same signature soft, polite tone that has his fans swooning on him, little did they know what a crook he was, especially behind the doors.

Inspite of being your toxic situationship, Suguru insists you're special, I mean, Who wouldn't think you're special when he is serenading you in his concerts, buying you flowers, taking you on long drives in the wee hours of the night?

But then when you ask him what you two really were, he'd just shrug insouciantly reply that you both didn't need to put a label on it although you should keep in your pretty little head that you were special. Suguru was simply too emotionally constipated to actually commit.

After stating clearly how casual you two were, here you are in front of his vanity mirror, watching him split you apart from behind. His bangs hung onto his face, his dark eyeliner a little messy from the sheer sweat that formed on his face from the activity while he adores how the flesh of your ass recoils against his pelvis.

You could only marvel at how ethereal he looks with your teary eyes, and listen to the way those deep grunts left his throat after a particularly rough thrust, only making you clench around him in such a debauched manner— giving him the green signal to continue fucking you in his jealousy.

The kisses he'd plant onto the back of your neck were so gentle, in stark contrast to how he fucked you like he hated you because finding out that you went on a date wasn't pleasant in the first place, but finding out it was his bestfriend, the band's charismatic drummer only made him lose his shit.

"What are the tears for..? Didn't you want to be a slut? Take it. I'm treating you like one afterall.." He purrs with a wicked grin on his face. He's mean, watching your wither in his grasp, while he sensually moves his hips in a few hard pounds before filling you up with ropes and ropes of his cum.

You're out of breath with the entirety of your upper body laid on the table—so blissfully fucked out with a smile on your lips at how he had feelings deep enough to fuck you in envy. Your plan was a success.

You swivel your head around slightly, seeing the flash of his camera directed to your stuffed cunt with a foxy smile playing his lips. "What are you-"

"Just a good luck charm before the concert and..a little gift for Satoru."

[machveil]

Reading glasses Simon.

Reading glasses Simon.

fluff and nsfw (my first crack at nsfw ever so pray for me). dividers from @gild-ui! CW: fem!reader, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving)

Simon doesn’t need glasses for day to day life - his vision doesn’t impair his job. but, when it’s getting dark out and he’s picked up a book he’s been meaning to read? he’ll break out a pair of reading glasses

he doesn’t wear them around you for a while, not out of shame or embarrassment. when he first started dating you he simply forgot about the book sitting on his dresser, he was too busy with you to pick up that dusty, thick book

but once you’ve settled into your relationship? you come across him one night after a shower, a sleek, black pair of reading glasses resting over the bridge of his crooked nose. they aren’t fancy, just something to get the job done

but they’re so charming against his scarred face, a perfect match with his stubble and short-cropped hair. and when dark irises, nearly black in the dim lighting of the bedroom, look up at you behind those lenses? it’s enough to make your knees go weak

Simon insists that he only uses them for reading, he can see your pretty face just fine. he’s got a roughed up, black case for them - neatly tucked into his bedside table. he wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loves seeing you walk around with his glasses on. he doesn’t care if you nab them from his bedside, he’s too busy admiring you

he’s had the same pair for three years, lost the last pair on a deployment - he doesn’t bring them with anymore. he smiles when you offer to buy him a new pair, but he shrugs it off, “S’fine, don’t have a reason to get new ones, love.”

at night, when the stars and city are closed out by thick curtains, Simon loves settling down with you in bed. after a life of not receiving love, these little intimate nights make his heart squeeze with adoration for you

while you’re unwinding, phone in hand, Simon has his book. reading glasses idly resting on his nose, he can’t help but glance your way - eyebrows slightly knit as he studies you. taking in your relaxed shoulders, steady breathing, the slight upturn to your lips as you smile at your phone

he can’t help it when he moves his hand under the covers, eyes going back to the page he was reading. rough hand settling on your thigh, he gives it a small squeeze - innocent

but when his hand shifts down towards your core, pointer and middle finger grazing the edge of your underwear, his loving touch becomes a little more intimate

thumb smoothing over the skin between your hip and thigh, his fingers dip past the thin material - all the while he’s still reading

just when you’re about to question him, playful smile tugging at your lips, his middle finger dips down - touch light as he rubs at your clit. any words that you had die on your tongue as you shift your hips

“Don’t let me distract you, lovie.”, he hums, voice gravely as he flips a page, “Go on, keep lookin’ at y’phone.”. he cracks a small smile when he hears a little whine from you, finger pressing a little harder, tight little circles against you as he keeps his gaze down - he’s read the same line about three times

he doesn’t care when you set your phone down instead, canting your hips up slightly to meet his touch. he can’t help it, soon enough his hand is dipping past your underwear - the heel of his palm pressed to your little pearl, his ring and middle finger simply smoothing over your lips

he has to bite his tongue, cheeks heating up a little when he feels your slick - as much as you feel good, Simon’s getting off on just feeling you, his pretty little thing that loves him unconditionally

and, as a man that thrives off acts of service, he can’t help himself when he dips his middle finger into you. the soft gasp that leaves you falls on deaf ears, his own groan rumbling in his throat as his eyes flutter shut

he’s holding back a little, gripping his book a little too hard while you squirm - as much as he loves making you feel good, he’s a little selfish. he’s a little greedy, doing this more so for himself. and if greed is a sin, then he’ll atone by worshipping your body

bending the top corner of the page he’s on, Simon’s quick to close his book. halfheartedly shoved onto his bedside table, he turns his focus to you - your legs a little twitchy and lips parted as he dips a second finger in, “Look at you, doing so good f’me.”. low, murmured words as he leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. a small, gruff chuckle leaves him when he pulls his hand away, hearing you huff out a complaint. he’s quick though, one last kiss to your jaw before he’s pulling the covers back, “Don’t worry, love. I’m not done.”

moving to sit between your legs, he brings his fingers up to his mouth - a low moan rumbling in his chest when he tastes you on his digits

true to his word, Simon’s not done with you. reading glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose, he shifts to lay down against the sheets. moving your legs so your calves rest over his shoulders, he looks up at you, “Gonna be good, doll?”. a genuine smile on his lips when he hears you plead for him, and who’s he to deny his darling?

pressing a kiss to your clothed cunt, he pulls your underwear to the side - left hand holding your thigh while his right holds the thin fabric to the side. he loves this - the sight of you flushed and pretty for him, looking down at him. it makes his stomach twist with need, a warmth settling in his gut as he leans down

“Course you’ll be good f’me—“, he hums, lips pressing to your clit as he closes his eyes, “Always such a good girl f’me, aren’t you?”, he mumbles against you, deep voice dripping with love. eyebrows pinched as he groans, gently lapping at you as he presses his hips to the mattress. “Pretty little thing, always treatin’ me right.”, holding you a little closer to him as he grinds down against the bed

hearing your sweet gasps and moans sets a fire in him, and when your hands find their way to his hair and tug? sparks fly, a whine of his own resonating in his throat. despite his quiet demeanor, his reserved nature and curt sentences in public, Simon finds his voice in bed

grip firm on your thigh, his mouth settles against your cunt - thumb moving to your clit again, “Wanna see you cum, lovie—“, he murmurs, drowning against you as his hips writhe

you’re not faring any better, hands rooted in his dirty blond hair. between his hold on you and his mouth - his thumb making quick circles, it’s all too much. and when he glances up at you from between your slick thighs, reading glasses fogged up and slanted? the tight, drawstring tension in your stomach is close to snapping - Simon’s not letting up as he moves his left hand under your shirt

can you blame him? sweet moans tumbling from your lips and thighs squeezing around his head, his hand settles over your tummy - gentle, careful pressure as he holds you down. Simon would have a pillow under your hips if he hadn’t been in such a needy rush, but he’ll just do that next time

eyes half lidded as he presses a kiss your thigh, he’s diving in again - lips and chin soaked. he knows you’re close, so is he, the fabric of his sweatpants and the friction from grinding against the mattress pushing him to the edge. but when you give a sharp tug of his hair, thighs pressing against him a little too tight, he feels the temple of his readers snap

disconnected from the hinge, the right side of his glasses break and so does Simon - sweatpants ruined as he pushes two digits into you, loud moans tumbling from him as tries to push you over too

it’s not long before you’re following after him, your heels digging against his back as you ride out your orgasm. Simon doesn’t quit though, not yet - lets you ride it out against him, grinding your hips against his mouth, not that he minds

breathing steadying as a moment goes by, Simon gently moves out from between your thighs, a kiss pressed to each knee before he’s moving to the bathroom. a warm, wet towel in hand he walks back, leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, “Did so well for me.”, he hums, a soft smile on his lips as he gently cleans your thighs. the mattress dips with his weight as he settles back into bed, towel dropped to the floor - he’d get it in the morning

broken readers left in your shared bathroom as Simon holds you close

[avis-writeshq]

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: established relationship warnings: mentions of assault, tiny bar fight, mentions of alcohol consumption a/n: i wasn't really sure how much i liked this, but i hope you guys do! i wanted to post something because i won't be online much for finals :( wc: 1.16k

You meant it when you offered to get the drinks for the table. You offer to do the first round: four rum and cokes, whiskey (neat, because Aaron would rather get his money’s worth) and whatever bright pink concoction Penelope ordered written neatly in purple glittery gel pen on an old receipt. Rossi’s glass of wine that he ordered costs double the entire order, and Spencer orders an Arnold Palmer. 

“Did you want to start a tab?” The bartender asks kindly, her pretty green eyes framed by dark brown hair clipped by a barrette. 

“Oh! Um, sure.” You smile, gesturing to the booth where the rest of the team were sitting at. “You can put it down for that table.”

She nods, tapping a few buttons on her POS system before looking back up at you. “There’s already a card for that table. Under… Aaron Hotchner?”

Your brows lift in surprise at her words, a laugh of disbelief leaving your lips. “Of course he did. That’s fine, thank you.”

You return carrying a tray of far too many drinks, setting them down with a soft sigh of relief. Everyone takes their respective drinks while Aaron pulls you into his side, his thigh pressing against yours as he lets his lips linger on the side of your head. 

“Thank you for that,” he murmurs lowly into your ear, squeezing at the flesh of your waist. His other hand swirls his whisky around the glass. “Did you carry them alright?”

“Mm. I’ll have to go back to get Penny’s drink. The lady at the bar said it’ll be in a couple minutes or so because the order was so specific.” You’re smiling at him despite your original annoyance. “I meant it when I said that I would treat everyone to the first round of drinks.”

“I meant it when I said that I would take care of you,” he responds simply. “The drinks they ordered was more than just a pretty penny.”

From the corner of your eye you spot the bartender waving you over, and you laugh before  pressing a soft kiss against Aaron’s face. “I’ll be right back, handsome.”

You really did mean it when you said that you would be right back. With a napkin wrapped around the cocktail glass, you turn around to make your way back to the table when a voice catches your attention. 

“Pretty drink for a pretty girl,” the man comments, and it takes a second for it to register in your mind. 

“Oh. Thank you, it’s for my friend and she is really pretty.” You smile politely. Wrong move.

“Not as pretty as you, I’m sure,” he continues, his eyes gleaming in your direction. You don’t really appreciate the way he thinks that his words are a proper compliment. “Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart. The name’s Colby.”

“That’s alright, I really do need to get back to my group.” You take a hesitant step away but he takes another step forward. 

This is dangerous, how close this stranger is. Anxiety wells in your throat and your stomach drops with nerves. 

“Just one drink,” Colby insists, inching closer. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

“I don’t need one,” you say, searching for  your voice. “Excuse me…”

Colby scowls, taking a step forward as he tries to prevent your escape. His fingers graze against your side dangerously close to the waistband of your pants and you can’t help but jolt, the glass slipping from your grasp and shattering against the cold tile of the bar floor. Your heart plummets to your stomach as the man grunts in frustration. 

“Look at what you did,” he snaps, shaking the drink off his hands. His eyes are dangerous as he glares at you, his hand lunching up and out, aiming directly for your arm. “You little–”

“That is enough.”

You almost cry out in relief when you see Aaron step in front of you, effectively shielding you away from the assault. He’s big and tall, and though you do not see him upset very often, it is even rarer for you to see him angry and mean. 

Aaron stretches to his full height, his eyes narrowed and his gaze dark. He stares down this man– this pathetic excuse of a human being– with the same hatred and disgust as he does with the unsubs he faces on the daily. 

“Oi, back off, would ya?” Colby sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. Aaron has half the mind to think that he would start stomping around like a petulant child. 

For once, Aaron wastes no time digging into his suit pocket and pulling out his badge, a grim look on his face. “FBI. If you make one more comment or so much as glance in her direction again, I will be arresting you and taking you in for custody before you can breathe your next breath. Do you understand me?”

The silence is almost deafening and Aaron finds his patience withering with every passing second. 

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Fuck you,” Colby snaps, drunkenly lunging with his fists clenched to clock Aaron in the face.

Aaron resists the urge to roll his eyes as he handcuffs Colby’s arms behind his back, dragging him out of the bar. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court…”

Everything after that is a blur. The bar awards you and the rest of the team free drinks and food for the remainder of your stay, and Colby is taken off to the nearest police precinct in record time. Regardless of all the delicious food, your appetite no longer exists as you curl into Aaron’s side, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, his lips grazing lightly against your forehead. “I’m sorry that something like that happened. You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“You didn’t deserve to almost be punched in the face,” You respond back, a wry smile spreading across your lips.

He laughs, squeezing your shoulder. “He was punching air, sweetheart. I don’t really know where he was aiming, but there was no way that he was going to actually hit me.”

Aaron watches you, the way you turn away from him and pick at your fingers. He exhales after a moment, dipping his head to meet your woeful gaze. “None of this–” he gestures to where one of the staff members is carefully cleaning up the broken glass– “is your fault. I hope you understand that. What happened was not your fault and you shouldn’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”

His words make you smile a little and you can’t help but press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Yeah. You’re lovely, Aaron, you know that?”

“I could say the same for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder again. “You’re the loveliest.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

[rixsjwb]

MY ROOMIEㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ suguru geto x fem!reader

roomie geto who would always wake up before you, wearing his baggy grey sweats with a tight t shirt gripping his well built body. sometimes on facetime with satoru talking about literally anything as he eats his breakfast.

"Your roomie awake yet? still sleepin' her head off?" the speaker blared. suguru shifts his phone so the camera would catch your face in view, you stare at the phone groggily, your hand itching your stomach which revealed abit of your middriff. but you didnt seem to care, gojo lets out a cheerful greeting at this early time asking you typical question like 'how are you?' and throwing in occasional flirting that you didn't really register due to lingering sleepiness.

you stand up from your seated position next to suguru at the dining table, as suguru munches on the fruits his eyes drag over your body as you stretch. a tattoo peaking from just under your shorts, causing suguru to graze his finger over it. lightly tugging your shorts down to see the tattoo. "getting worked up this early in the morning suguru?" satoru teases with his charming smirk. his camera catching his face as he seams to be lying down shirtless in bed.

"no, s'just curious." he says withdrawing his fingers, he watches as you look around cluelessly, causing a slight chuckle to slip from his baritone voice. his hand snaking around your waist pulling you closer to his body. positioning the camera back to him witch also catches you leaning into sugurus soft touch.

"pretty y/n looks tired." satoru says his keen eyes staring at you through the camera. watching as you rub your eyes underneath your glasses aggressively. before reaching over the phone to grab something. the camera doesn't fail to pick up your breast spilling from your low cut tank top and in your drowsy state you don't even realize what your doing.

suguru notices this and can smell from a mile away a cheeky remark satorus gonna day, "don't even say it." suguru says a smile, breaking out onto his tired yet handsome face, watching as satorus face breaks into airy laughter. "I wasn't gonna say anything!" satoru says, rolling his eyes. Both him and suguru know he was gonna say something to ruin the intimate yet tranquil mood that was going on. so it was better left unsaid.

roomie geto who always refill things without your knowledge, you could run out of your favorite moisturizer and suddenly it feels shallow and empty to heavy and full. and you'd always ask if he bought it but he's so good at gaslighting and manipulating you into thinking it was always full.

your current moisturize had been full for the past 2 months, and you're starting to think you're going insane.

every time you try to recall going out to buy one or even a bunch, it never comes to mind. and here you are making your way to the bathroom, taking your glasses off being met with blurry vision but still able to see, you go in to grab your moisturizer that had been pretty much empty since yesterday. fully expecting the container to feel light but taken aback when it feels heavy yet again.

you screw open the cap to be met with a brand new looking moisturizer and your quick to confront your roomie about it.

"suguru, did you buy me a new moisturizer?" " nuh uh, didn't you buy yourself one like a couple days or weeks ago?" he questioned and you actually start to think about it, but every day is just as blurry as your vision so you genuinely have no idea. you watch as suguru continues scrolling on his phone not at all phased at your question.

and you start to question if you have dementia. because you have so little memory of what you did this week, you cant press him any further so you reside to the bathroom as you continue to ponder on how your moisturizer suddenly just regenerates its product again along with your favorite snacks suddenly being refilled, too.

roomie suguru who's whipped for your touch and melts innit.

being in close contact with you is something suguru loves, taking pictures with the friend group he automatically moves over to you so he can slip his hand around your waist and get a whiff of your sweet natural perfume. which sends heat into his pants. feeling your plush breast push against his chest makes him feel like a shy boy, suddenly reduced to a stuttering and jittery mess.

when taking pictures with you he doesn't even know where to put his hands anymore, and making eye contact with you just worsens everything.

you're just as calm as him,aloft and more composed, yet he's losing his shit over a girl around the same age as him. whether it's you doing simple tasks like reaching over him to get something, the arch of your back just hovering over his lap as he gets a whiff of your scent. and how close the curve of your ass is to his body.

he has to use his hands to gently push down on your plush hips to sit down while he gets what you need before you notice the growing bulge in his heavenly gray sweat pants.

any chance he gets, to lay his head on your stomach, breast, lap he'll take it.

roomie geto who goes on regular bike rides with his friends and alone and always asks you if you'd like to come.

the first time you found out suguru had a bike was when you were sitting outside on a sunny day enjoying the vitamin d from the sun while scrolling on your phone outside of the building complex you and suguru live in. you're listening to music as you play with the ruffles on your tank top before staring at your cargo shorts while ajusting your hair curling inwards to your face.

but your trance was snapped out of when you heard loud revving of a car or bike nearing. at first you were annoyed because it's irritating hearing cars revv their loud engines in a quiet residential neighborhood. but when you see 2 bikers pull up one biker accented with blue and the other completely black you noticed their sature looked familiar.

as the man on the black bike hits the stand up on the bike before turning the ignition off. he hops off the bike seemingly typing something on his phone.

the other one on the blue bike was goofing off laying on his bike like it was a bed, before his head flicks in your direction. he lightly revs his bike which catches your attention as he waves you over lifting his viser up and your met with all too familiar cerulean blue eyes.

you stand up heading closer to the 2, before being engulfed in a hug by satoru. "I didn't know you rode a bike." your voice flowing like the wind soft yet velvety at the same time. "you tryna go f'a ride?" satoru says excitedly as he adjust his seating on the bike, moving back more so you can sit in his lap. you lightly slap his hand at his insinuation before turning to face the all black biker.

his viser now up and you're met with familiar purple eyes, "suguru." you say before giving him a hug for a greeting. his hands automatically wraps around your waist. "I sent you a message, wanna go on a ride?" he says his eyes crinkle hinting a smiles on his face. you don't reject the offer as you wait along side satoru while sugurus fetched for a bike helmet.

satoru kept you close his hand over your shoulder, while he had conversation with you. and when suguru came back he was quick to help you put it on. buckling the strap underneath. and knocking on your helmet to ensure it's sturdiness, and just like that off you go!

roomie suguru who sometimes suffers from nightmares and tends to stay up at ungodly hours, because he can't find himself wanting to go back to sleep.

you've never caught suguru up at an ungodly hour because you were already dead asleep. but due to your now heavy schedule at college, you'd end up waking at 5 am still night preparing for a class.

you'd always see the tiredness in sugurus eyes, bags showing how much sleeps he's missed out on.

as you get ready after taking a shower, you leave your room, heading to the kitchen that was completely dark, but because you're still abit tired you sluggishly move through the dark clumsily before finding a light switch. when you turn it on, you jump back startled by suguru sitting on the couch manspread as his head is thrown back.

he seemed still for a second before his head lifts making eye contact with you. your quick to come by his side wondering why he'd ever be awake at this time. "shouldn't you be asleep?" you ask sitting down next to him.

"m'yea but can't." he says wryly. you stare at him with concern in your eyes. your hand coming to caresse his arm to sooth him."do you want tea maybe? it could maybe help with your sleep." you say not even sure about your own words, but suguru doesn't answer his eyes closed like he's resting them.

you rise from your seat eventually packing your stuff, and once you were ready it was 5:46 am you still have time to eat breakfast so you cut up some fruits to munch on before coming back to meet suguru on the couch with a hot brewed tea in your left hand.

you place the plate down as quietly as possible before gently shaking suguru to open his eyes, giving him the tea which seems to calm his nerves.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you watch suguru as he takes a small sip of the tea before placing it down. suguru's heart melts at your question, you're to sweet for your own good. "just had a nightmare" he says plain and simple.

you grab the plate of fruits eating them one by one as you rest your head against sugurus shoulder and as time flows you feel his head limp right onto yours. when the clock hit 6:30 you carefully slipped out of his grasp before grabbing your bag and headphones. you grab a blanket nearby, throwing it over sugurus body, fluffing a pillow so his head could rest on it before you took your leave.

roomie suguru who enjoys your cooking so much, that he craves it like a pregnant woman craves food

sugurus not sure what you're cooking, but it smells good enough to lure him out of his room. he chats with his friends on facetime as he sits at the dining table with the perfect view of you in his sight. he watches as you move throughout the kitchen, putting and taking stuff off the shelves.

he could tell the dish is definitely not a Japanese dish.

"not gonna lie. Your roommate is a pretty girl, suguru." toji says blatantly on call. "I agree with toji. she's hot as fuck! I never thought I'd be into girls with calm and aloof personalities. and her glasses just makes her the more attractive!" satoru says shamelessly letting out a moan as a joke as he moves around his house ploping on the couch. suguru sends satoru a dirty look causing satoru to cackle like a maniac.

sugurus holds back a scoff before he answer. "you'k she's right here right?" he says showing you in view. you top the pot with a lid to let the food simmer before coming over to suguru to say hi to a couple of his friends.

"hi toji, hi guys" you say, waving to the camera. you seemed almost bashful at their comments, which was pretty rare considering you always have this reserved personality. "y/n, I love you! mwa mwa!" satoru kisses his phone repeatedly as you come in view. causing you to laugh at his antics.

"Hi sukuna," you say, remembering his face from one of your classes, "Hello, woman." "That's not how you talk to a lady!" yuji is heard from chosos phone. "You have the brat with you, choso?" sukuna asks gruffly, staring at choso through the corner of his phone, eventually seeing the salmon haired brat.

you take a sip of cold water as you listen to the conversation everyone has on the phone. but sugurus gaze seemed fixated on you.

"suguruuu! should I host a party? maybe toji and sukuna can finally get some bitches." "suck my dick you albino bitch" sukuna says aggressively. before toji speaks up "aren't you a virgin?" and eventually the call goes crazy with satoru, toji and sukuna arguing with one another you briefly see nanami join the call for 5 seconds before he leaves, shoko coming back into the cameras view. you wave towards her in the mist of the argument.

you eventually leave to go check on the food which was done from how most of the liquid had evaporated from the rice yet still enough to make it soft and moist to eat. you plate the brown rice and chicken on the plate for both you and suguru adding some pickled cucumber on the side with a small salad.

turning off the stove top you check the cookies you were baking that almost looked ready, grabbing a knife to poke into it seeing very little batter on the knife before closing the oven.

you hand suguru his plate before putting yours down, getting cups to poor some juice into, handing sugurus his cup while taking a sip of yours.

you watch as sugurus head subconsciously nods up and down almost like he's aproving how tasty your food is, letting out a hum of delight. suguru ends the rowdy call before powering off his phone to enjoy his meal in peace. to say this was the best meal of his college life, it is the best.

"what is this?" he asked curiously still taking bites of the food. "it's called pelau my mother always made it for me when she felt like cooking for little."

suguru would for sure continue buying ingredients for the house just so he can try the multitude of dishes you have in store.

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . fratboy!chris .ᐟ

fratboy!chris is well-known around campus for being that guy. the one who hosts the best parties, the one who sells the best drugs for a good price, and the one who has got the best dick.

you haven't had the honour of meeting chris yet — although you've heard some interesting stories from all your girlfriends who have had some sort of encounter with him, mostly creaming around his cock and screaming his name in ecstasy.

you feel overwhelmed when you're dragged to one of your first frat parties hosted by the man himself, stepping over the sprawled-out drunken bodies on the lawn, pushing through sweaty crowds of people that dance to the rap music blasting from the speakers, and eyes blinded by the flashy lights decorating the interior.

the heat crawls up your neck when you witness your surroundings, some shoving tongues down each others throats with no care in the world, others smoking weed and lining up coke on any available surfaces.

the first time you see chris, he's lounging out on the couch, manspreading shamelessly. his arm is wrapped around some girl's shoulder, his hand gripping her jaw and drawing her in closer to place a small, circular pill on her awaiting tongue with a smirk.

he strokes her skin before patting her cheek, watching her throat bob as she swallows the pill. in return, she shoves a few dollar bills into the waistband of his pants and plants a glossy kiss on his lips to express her gratitude.

you probably should walk away and go find your girlfriends, not wanting to risk being some kind of creep watching everything unfold. but the embarrassment is already seeping in when chris' eyes flit over to you as he turns his head.

his eyebrow raises as he takes you in, his gaze lingering on the dress you're wearing — a little shorter than your usual attire and leaving little to no imagination, courtesy of your roommate who let you borrow it for the night.

chris pulls his arm from the girl's shoulder, adjusting the bandana on top of his head as he tilts his head to the side, and with a quick upturn of his chin, he gestures for you to come forward.

with your nerves swirling in the pit of your belly, a part of you wants to just turn and walk away to avoid getting pulled into whatever is unfolding. but the curiosity, the nagging sense of intrigue, forces you to make your way over to where chris is seated, unable to ignore the almost predatory once-over he gives you, his eyes trailing slowly up and down your body.

"i haven't seen you before," chris states, his voice low and smooth. he bends forward, reaching out to the table to grab his beer before leaning back. "what's your name?"

when you tell him your name, he hums and nods his head, repeating it to himself before taking a sip from his bottle. his eyes are still locked on you, making you fidget slightly in your spot beneath his intense gaze.

"come sit down," he pats the empty space beside him on the couch, an invitation that's more of a command than a request.

as you move to sit next to him on the cushion, you don't miss the way he carelessly shoos the other girl away from his side, watching as she rolls her eyes before taking her leave, leaving just the two of you alone on the couch.

chris shifts closer to you as he places his beer down, draping his arm across the back behind you. his fingers lightly graze over your bare shoulder where your dress leaves it exposed, and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leans in, his voice barely above a whisper.

"'m chris," he introduces himself. you nod your head as chris' eyes drop down to your lips before meeting your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. "what d'you want, hm? need a lil' somethin' to take the edge off? make you feel good?"

"i..." your voice trails off, overthinking. you'll feel embarrassed if you don't buy anything after all this time, so you mention the first thing you're most familiar with. "weed."

"weed?" chris repeats, an airy laugh leaving him. "okay — sure, i got you."

he parts from you to raise his hips, digging his hand into his pockets to retrieve a ziplock bag of weed with a few pre-mades. he presents it to you in front of your face, swinging it back and forth almost mockingly and you go to reach for it until he snags it back.

"listen..." chris drawls, rolling his tongue across his cheek. "i usually charge fairly cheap for new buyers — to get them comin' back for more, y'know. but uh, but i'll let you have it for free if you let me hit."

you're stunned by his forwardness and confidence, but you're unable to deny the ache between your legs at his words — plus the numerous conversations you've listened in on about how good he is in bed, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little bit curious to see for yourself.

the journey up to his room is a blur, a mess of colours and flashing lights before you're spread out on his unkept bed, dress bunched up to your waist, a joint nestled between your two fingers as chris moves above you, his cock slipping in and out of you.

he's a lot bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch of him would've been far worse if it wasn't for the weed hazing your mind, allowing your body to feel floaty and relaxed.

"so fuckin' tight, doll — shit," chris curses through gritted teeth, arms hooked beneath your thighs as he watches your pussy grip around him, folds puffy and covered in spit. "feels good, yeah? haven't had good dick before? don't worry... i got you. gonna make you feel reaaaaal good."

his words causes your body to buzz, and your back arches against the bed with a whiney sounding moan, almost dropping the blunt to the bedsheets.

"fuckin' crazy if you think i'm lettin' this pretty pussy go... no — no you're mine now. should've let some other kid get to ya before me, cause i'm all you're gettin' now."

© sturnioz

[sturnsdoll]

𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇𝙔 𝙂𝙁 ˚୨୧⋆｡ - M.S

(headcannons!)

pairing: matt x girly/hyperfem!reader

warnings: hc's, sfw and nsfw but they are labelled as such.

nsfw warnings: dom!matt, sub!reader, implied spanking, dirty talk, mostly just super suggestive.

authors note: multiple people requested a matt version so here you go <3

SFW !

ೃ⁀➷ one of the first things matt loved about you was the way you express yourself through your style.

ೃ⁀➷ how could he keep his eyes off you with bows dangling and intertwined through your hair, belt loops or pretty much anything else you could stick em' on

ೃ⁀➷ watching you lay peacefully against your pink silk sheets never fails to lure him into crawling under your matching covers to cuddle and stroke your perfectly cared for hair into further relaxation.

ೃ⁀➷ anytime your cake-esque fragrance is sprayed around him he has to pull you into him. he's addicted to it like crack. he has to bury his face into your neck, inhaling like he'll never be graced with it again.

ೃ⁀➷ anytime he's out he's looking for things you'd accesorize with..

ೃ⁀➷ matt would be searching through every color of ribbon in every store he's in for a color, size or texture that you don't have.

ೃ⁀➷ matt would want to buy you makeup because he knows how good you feel about yourself while wearing it.. not saying he'd be good at picking out the right shades but hey, he tries right??

ೃ⁀➷ matt loves watching the bottom of your skirt dance and twirl while you bounce around your room with your fav artist playing..

ೃ⁀➷ you hum the lyrics while organizing your closet that's drowned in shades of pink..

ೃ⁀➷ "need help sweetheart?" "i'm okay, thanks" and even though he knew you were sincere from the sweet grin on your pretty lips, he'd get up from the comfort of your bed to assist anyways. he couldn't let your pretty little head get too exhausted now could he?

ೃ⁀➷ he knows how capable you are though, there's no doubt. he enjoys taking care of you but knows your more than able on your own

ೃ⁀➷ he would try his hardest to be assertive when he's angry but it was always impossible.

ೃ⁀➷ mid arguement you'd find yourself inching closer till you reach him. you take his hand. he can't ignore your perfect shiny acrylic nails (that he paid for) grazing along his palm to slowly interlock with his longer, masculine fingers.

ೃ⁀➷ "i'm sorry matt, i'll make it up to you. " you'd apologize sincerly.

ೃ⁀➷ before he could even think about saying no, your lashes batting up at him with doe eyes beneath them would usually force him to the final decision of teaching you how to behave another way...

NSFW !

ೃ⁀➷ "you think you look all innocent don't you?" now your backed up and corned against your makeup table. a few lipglosses knock over when the back of your thighs hit the table, your hands coming behind to steady yourself.

ೃ⁀➷ you'd nod your head. matt's dry laugh makes wetness pool beneath your skirt faster than you're willing to admit. "we'll see how much of a good girl you really are then yeah?" then next thing you know you'd be holding off your orgasms, being left begging for at least the 3rd time in a row.

ೃ⁀➷ and it never took much to get him going.

ೃ⁀➷ matt and you would be with his friends and all it'd take would be a graze of your perfect nails against his jeans for him to crave them wrapped around his dick.

ೃ⁀➷ your perfect pink lips pouting at him as you asked to go home early..

ೃ⁀➷ your eyes telling him you weren't wearing the shortest skirt you could find for no reason.

ೃ⁀➷ matt never really cared about you doing much for him sexually. making you feel good is what got him off. you were his princess and you needed to feel as such, in and out of the bedroom.

ೃ⁀➷ contradictory to that though, being a princess means being a bit of a brat and he knows how to deal with you when needed.

ೃ⁀➷ if it came to it, he'd pull you out of any social event (dinner, party, hangout, doesn't matter) and take you to his car.

ೃ⁀➷ your sweet demeanor never stopped him from ruining you.

ೃ⁀➷ "you think that shit's cute?" you quickly mutter back a "no" while knowing damn well that being bent over his lap in the backseat as your tears of pain and pleasure ruined your makeup was exactly what you were hoping for.

ೃ⁀➷ "who's dog was in here?" nick would ask matt the next day, eyeing at the nail shaped imprints in the seat cover. chris' head whips around from the front to spot your hair ribbon discarded on the floor. he put two and two together. "matt, there's absaloutely no way dude... in nick's seat seriously?!"

(sorry if any of the tags didn't work) tags ᥫ᭡ : @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniolosstar @sstvrnioloo @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @orangelala