#his physique is hidden as a man

[aokuni]

i drew my version of girljo bcs i dont like the gooner takes ive seen on him (her?)

[cowboybeepboop]

Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Your friendly neighbor Clark Kent comes to your door one evening, allowing for the two of you to finally grow your relationship.

Warnings: This is not proofread what so ever, gentle/sort of shy Clark, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, p in v sex. 

a/n: Idk rn but I genuinely can't wait for David Corenswet to be Superman (Henry Cavill is so hot tho...). I’m already imagining how perfect he's gonna be as Clark Kent. As always, send me any requests you have and I hope you enjoy!

For months now, you had been quietly pining for the man who lived across the hall from me in our unassuming apartment building. His name was Clark Kent, and there was something about him that was utterly endearing. It wasn't just his chiseled jawline or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the kindness he exuded, the way he always had a helping hand ready for anyone in need. 

You had become something like friends, sharing the occasional awkward small talk as we passed by with our shopping bags or recyclables. You had seen him in various stages of undress, coming back from his midnight runs, his superhero-like physique hidden under loose-fitting t-shirts and sweatpants. 

Something that had fueled your evening pleasure sessions, everytime your eyes fell closed you could remember the image of his hardened abs, his huge and muscular arms. 

On a warm summer evening, there was a knock at your door. It was Clark, the guy from across the hall. He stood there sheepishly, his hand running through his black hair. 

He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned and messy. He held a bottle of wine in one hand. "Hey", he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

“Sure what’s up?” you give him a small smile, your eyes fall on his exposed chest before quickly flicking back to his face. His heart rate increased as he realized that you could see through the thin fabric of his shirt the toned muscles of his chest covered in a light layer of hair.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, holding up the bottle of wine. "I, umm, I was wondering if I could borrow your corkscrew. I lost mine."

“Yeah, of course. Come on in.” you move to the side, allowing him to come in. Your mind clouding with desire as he towers over you, his cologne filling your senses. 

He steps into your apartment, the tight space meaning his body brushes against yours slightly as he passes. The contact between you both is brief, but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine as he enters.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you realize your own appearance, wearing just a button down top that is unbuttoned enough for him to see your cleavage and your underwear. You awkwardly lead him to the kitchen, arm subconsciously moving to cover your breasts as you turn around, handing him the corkscrew. 

"Uh, thanks." He says as he takes the corkscrew from you. Even with your arm draped over yourself, he can't help but notice the glimpse of exposed skin, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and averts his gaze, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

He starts to open up the bottle, the action allowing him to look away from your figure for a moment and compose himself, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to concentrate. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his. “Oh yeah this thing is weird, you kinda have to do it a particular way.” you murmur, taking the bottle from him as you fumble with the screw. 

He bites his lip as your fingers brush over his, his stomach swirling at the touch of your hand. He watches as you take the bottle from him, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you try to open the bottle.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice low and a bit shaky. His eyes wander down, his gaze drawn to the way your top fits, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. 

“Mhm,” you reply as you pull the cork out, a small splash of wine staining your collar. You bite down on your lip while setting the bottle down, fingers rubbing the fabric. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the droplet of wine slide down your collar, the stains on the fabric making it even more translucent. 

Clark swallows hard, his mind wandering to inappropriate and ungentlemanly thoughts. He clears his throat, trying to look away, but he can't help but notice the way your fingers are now rubbing at the fabric, the motion only drawing his attention further to your chest.

You glance over him, hand falling from your shirt as you give him a soft grin, noticing the way his gaze lingers. 

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, his cheeks flushed. He realizes he's been caught staring, his eyes having been fixated on the way your hand moves over the fabric of your shirt, the motion stirring something deep within him.

"I, umm..." he stutters, his words failing him as he feels his throat dry up. He swallows slowly, forcing himself to focus on something else. "Thanks, for helping me open the bottle," he manages to say.  He shifts on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself as he feels his jeans becoming a bit tighter.

“Of course, do you want to share the bottle? Or do you have someone waiting for you?” you move slightly closer to him. 

His heart quickens as you come closer, his mouth going dry as your proximity makes it all that much more difficult to concentrate. He glances down at the bottle sitting on the counter, his mind racing with desire and indecision.

"No," he says, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual. "There's no one waiting for me." He looks back up at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of nervousness and something more forbidden. "I'd like to share the bottle with you."

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer as you reach for the cabinet behind him, your chest pressing into his ever so slightly. You open the door, reaching for two glasses ​​his breath hitches as he feels your body press against him, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through him. 

Your chest rubs against his, and he can feel the weight and softness of you against his body. The proximity is driving him mad, his mind clouded by primal desires he's trying to keep in check.

He bites his lip, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter, trying to maintain his composure. His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze fixed on your every move.

You step back, with the glasses in hand. “We could watch a movie?” you prompt as you pour some wine into the cups, silently enjoying the way he reacted to your touch. 

He nods, his mind still racing as he tries to calm his racing thoughts and the growing hardness in his pants. "Yeah, a movie sounds good," he mutters, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd liked.

As you pour the wine, his eyes follow your every move, the way your fingers grip the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glasses. It's all too tantalizing for him. "What do you feel like watching?" He asks, trying to keep his voice level and casual.

“How about you choose?” you hand him a glass, taking yours in hand along with the bottle as you walk into the living room. Taking a seat down on the couch you sip on the wine, your eyes follow his every move, drinking in his muscular form. 

He tries to stay composed, forcing himself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Clark walks over to the DVD collection and scans the titles, his mind unfocused and his thoughts still lingering on you. After a moment of browsing, he picks a movie at random, inserting it into the player.

"All set." He says, returning to the couch and taking a seat beside you. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to prevent it from riding up too much while taking another sip of your drink. 

“Great.” you smile, sucking your lip between your teeth as you admire his side profile. He can't help but notice the way you fidget with your shirt, the action drawing his mind to places he shouldn't be going at the moment. 

He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his gaze keeping wandering over to you, admiring your features and the way the fabric clings to your body. Clark takes a long sip from his glass, the alcohol doing little to calm his racing thoughts and desires. He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself as his jeans grow even tighter.

“Is everything alright?” you notice his movements and set your cup on the coffee table, scooting slightly closer to him. His eyes widen slightly as you move closer, the proximity sending a fresh wave of desire through him. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah," he responds, his voice a little hoarse. "Everything's fine, just...adjusting." He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your figure, his eyes tracing over the curves where your shirt clings to you, the way your position inadvertently exposes more skin.

“Clark?” your knee brushes against his thigh as you scoot closer. He stiffens as your knee brushes against him, the casual touch sending a jolt through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain his composure.

When he hears his name, the way you say it, so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, it sends a shiver down his spine. He looks over at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. "Yeah?" He manages to respond, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you.. seeing anyone?” you chew on your cheek as you search his eyes. At your question, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crosses his face. He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity.

"No," he says finally, his voice steady and sincere. "I'm not seeing anyone." He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him as he wonders where this conversation is going. He can't help but feel a flicker of hope and anxiety at the same time.

Your eyes light up as you press a hand to his thigh, “Then… well I hope i’m not misreading the situation,” you murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's unexpected, but oh so welcome. 

His eyes widen for a brief moment, before closing as he melts into the kiss. Every cell in his body seems to come alive, the taste of your lips on his sending him into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his touch gentle as he leans into the kiss, deepening it as he loses himself in the moment. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip as he presses his chest against yours, pushing your back into the plush fabric of your couch. 

Your bodies meld together, your back sinking into the cushion as he bears down on you. His tongue teases your lip, requesting entry which you give him without hesitation.

His heart races as he feels the soft give of your body against his chest, the heat and pressure of your bodies mingling together.

His hand runs over your side, his touch gentle but firm as it moves over the curves of your body, his hand sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his. You lean back, gasping for air as his fingers explore your body. 

He takes your gasp as an opportunity to trail his lips along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he nips and kisses his way down your neck.

His hand moves under your shirt, slowly, his fingertips dancing across your bare skin, mapping out each contour and dip of your body. He groans softly against your throat as he feels your warm, supple flesh under his fingers. You feel so good against him, it's almost overwhelming.

“Clark..” you gasp his name as he unbuttons your shirt swiftly. He loves the way you say his name, the sound of it coming from your lips making his own name sound like a prayer.

He unfastens the buttons of your shirt, revealing more and more of your body to his hungry eyes. He peels back the fabric, his hands roaming over your now-exposed skin, his fingers tracing over your stomach and up to your chest.

He presses his mouth to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, tasting your scent, committing it to memory. “Clark..” you moan his name again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses down your chest, hands landing on your breasts. 

His name slips from your lips again, the sound like a sweet melody in his ears. He can feel the pressure of your fingers on his shoulders, the touch driving his desire even higher.

His mouth travels down your chest, his kisses feather light and seductive as he moves over your breasts. His hands follow his mouth, palms cupping your breasts as he starts to massage the soft flesh.

He moans against your skin, his touch almost reverent. His body thrums with an aching need, the desire to be closer to you nearly overwhelming as he captures your lips in another hungry kiss. He cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as they press into your skin. His touch is soft but firm, his hands large enough to cover them completely

Clark pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his eyes locked with yours. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can feel your heart racing beneath his palms as he gently caresses your breasts. "Are you sure about this?" He whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I don't want to rush you." His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

You smile up at him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. The sincerity in your tone sends a thrill through him, confirming that this is what you both want.

He nods, his expression serious as he leans back down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He savors the taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, cradling it as he deepens the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

As the kiss lingers, he slowly starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, taking his time to reveal each new inch of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. You melt into him, your own hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as the fabric of your shirt falls away.

The moment your skin is fully exposed, the air in the room seems to crackle with tension. He leans down to press a line of soft, wet kisses along your collarbone, feeling your body shiver beneath his touch. He takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your cheeks flush with pleasure as he says the words, his eyes devouring your exposed flesh. He takes his time, kissing and caressing every inch of your body, his hands moving in a slow, tantalizing dance that leaves you trembling with need. Each touch is a promise of what's to come, each kiss a declaration of his desire for you.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft whispers of your names on each other's lips. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but you both know that the slow burn of this moment is only making the fire between you grow hotter.

Clark finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation, your hands tightening in his hair. He teases and worships each peak, his tongue swirling and flicking, drawing out your moans of pleasure.

As you lay there, the warmth of his mouth on your skin, the softness of the couch beneath you, and the gentle pressure of his body above, you can't help but feel that this is exactly where you're meant to be. With each tender kiss and caress, he's claiming you, and you're willingly giving yourself to him.

The movie on the TV becomes background noise as the only thing that matters is the connection growing stronger between you both. His kisses trail down your stomach, his hands skimming over your hips to the waistband of your underwear.

He kisses the skin just above the waistband, the heat of his breath making you squirm. "I want to make this perfect for you," he murmurs, his eyes looking up at you for approval. You nod, unable to form words as your breath catches in your throat.

He takes his time, pulling down your underwear in one smooth motion, exposing your most intimate parts to his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, but he keeps his touches feather-light, his mouth hovering just above your skin without making contact.

Clark takes a deep breath, savoring the moment as he gazes down at your exposed body. He gently kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs, moving closer to the apex of your legs. His eyes are filled with a fiery hunger that makes your heart race even faster. He presses a soft kiss to your mound, feeling you tense up at the contact. 

Then, with a gentle caress, he parts your legs wider, his gaze never leaving yours. You can see the desire in his eyes, and it only fuels the fire burning within you. With a soft sigh, he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tracing the seam of your folds with the lightest touch. You moan, your body trembling as he starts to explore you, taking his time to learn every curve and sensitive spot. 

Each touch is a declaration of his intention to worship you, to take things slow and savor every second of this shared intimacy. His fingers join his mouth, gently teasing and exploring, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and soft whimpers, the only soundtrack to this passionate symphony of desire.

Clark continues his gentle exploration, his tongue circling your clit with a patience that borders on agonizing. He's not in a hurry; he wants to savor every moment of this, to make sure you feel loved and desired. His fingers slide into your wetness, curling gently as he begins to stroke you internally, matching the rhythm of his tongue. 

You can't help but whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations build within you. He's so attentive, so in tune with your body's responses that you feel like you're floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. Each kiss, each caress is a testament to the connection growing between you, and you know that this is just the beginning of a night that will change everything.

Clark's eyes never leave yours as he shifts his position, aligning his body with yours. His hand moves to guide himself, and with a gentle nod from you, he begins to press into you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his expression one of intense concentration as he tries to read your every reaction. You can feel the tip of him pushing against your entrance, the anticipation of what's to come making you squirm.

As he enters you, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to the building passion. He's so big, so thick, but he's so gentle that it's almost a surprise when he's fully sheathed inside you. You gasp, your eyes flying open, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled by him.

He waits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he sees none, he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that makes your toes curl. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from your lips, his name slipping from your mouth like a prayer as he fills you completely.

The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if your bodies are made for this, as if every inch of him is meant to be connected to every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down to grip his firm ass as he moves within you.

The room seems to spin around you, the only constant is the feeling of him, the sound of your hearts beating in sync. He kisses you again, his movements becoming more urgent as the passion takes over. You can feel him thickening, growing even more inside you, and you know that he's getting closer to the edge.

You whisper for him to go faster, to give you more, and he responds eagerly, his strokes deepening and quickening. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction between you building until it's almost unbearable. You're both so close, the tension coiled tight in your stomachs, ready to snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, it does. You cry out, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows shortly after, his own release shaking his body as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, your bodies entwined, your hearts racing. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret. But all he sees is pure satisfaction, a mirror to what's reflected in his own gaze. He leans down to kiss you gently, a soft promise of more to come.

[arcanefox207]

The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   

He can’t be serious… 

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 

This was only ending one way. His way. 

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick. 

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself. 

He wanted more. Needed more. 

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 

“What's this?” 

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.   

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede. 

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans. 

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 

Your climax tears through you. 

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

[may-stuff]

a friend in need. - fc43

summary: you've been best friends for almost your entire lives. who is he to deny you some help when you need it the most?

warnings: afab!reader, masturbation, oral sex (m), dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie || typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language and I'm a little stupid. also, this isn't great in any way so please don't be mean, thank u.

word count: 6.6k approx.

a/n: please please please, if you read this and you like it at least a little bit, please interact with it. If I don't get notifications I die 🥀

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you can't help but let your mind wander. Surrounded by shadows that seem to whisper his name in your ears, you get engulfed in the reminisce of him and almost every moment you've shared together. 

Behind your closed eyes you can see his beautiful face, his hair that smells so good, his hands and those long fingers that have touched you in a friendly way countless times before but tonight, tonight you remember those interactions from another perspective, in a new light. 

Not everything is about his physique, though. The brightness of his smile that could light up an entire room, his laugh and the sound of his voice- everything about him is perfect, even the imperfections. You also think of his moody, short answers in the morning when he's still sleepy; you think of his frown and the look in his eyes when he's angry for something or at someone, and even that seems like undeniable proof of a kind of beauty you've never seen before in anyone else. 

Your feelings for him, you realise now, go beyond everything; but tonight, in the quiet of your own room and with the knowledge that you'll never be more than his dear, best friend, you decide that setting your imagination free won't hurt anybody. He doesn't have to know, you don't even have to say his name out loud. 

Only in your mind. His name echoes in every part of your conscience as you imagine. You imagine him in situations that you're sure you'll never see him in. You imagine him kissing you, both softly and then roughly, as if he were trying to consume all of you. Your mind shows him on top of you, his clothes gone, his lips on your skin and your name coming out of them in a plea. 

The visions in your head are so clear that soon your own hands are exploring your body. First, they travel up and down all through your abdomen, making you feel goosebumps at the thought of how good this would feel if it only were his hands on your skin. When you reach your breasts and cup them in your hands under your shirt, you can't help but to moan softly, even more when your fingers pinch your nipples that, in result, become impossibly hard in a matter of seconds. With the image of his beautiful lips wrapping around your hardened peaks, painting them with his own saliva, you feel that familiar pressure in your lower abdomen. That sensation that comes with the arousal that becomes physical and pools in the deepest parts of you, coating your underwear more and more with each second that passes and he's still in your mind, touching you, making you feel better than any man has ever done before. 

In the complexity of the mind, a deep feeling of guilt presses onto your chest. You know this is wrong, you know this isn't what you should do when you think of your dearest friend, but you can't help it. You can't avoid the feelings and the images in your mind. It's like a film that won't stop playing over and over; it's a bunch of images of him on top of you, inside of you, whispering the filthiest things right in your ear. It's him telling you how divine you feel around him, how much he loves being buried deep inside of you. It's his voice moaning and grunting, face hidden in the curve between your neck and your shoulder. 

It's your hands caressing his back and your nails digging into his flesh every time he moves inside you, the lewd sounds of his cock sliding into your hungry pussy filling the room and, in response, making you more needy. 

In the real world, your left hand has already reached your underwear. Your fingers come in contact with the wet spot right above your slit and you moan softly to the knowledge that you've become this wet only because he is in your mind. And as the guilt hits you once again, trying to drift your mind away from the pleasure that the thought of him gives you, you decide to go against it. 

He will never know about this. 

That thought is decisive. Your shirt and underwear are gone in a matter of seconds, and when you feel the soft air coming in from the window and touching your skin, you shiver. You wish he would be here, his natural warmth engulfing your body and soul, making the sadness and loneliness go away. But you're alone in your empty house- and even if he were here, he wouldn't be where you want him to be. 

With the crude reality put in the back of your mind, your fingers finally travel down to where you need attention the most. Feeling your own dampness, you let out a deep sigh. No one has ever made you this wet, not even yourself. All of this is thanks to him, because of him. The fire in your veins, the need to feel pleasure, the need to cum, all of this intensity is due to him and his face engraved in your mind. 

That's why you can hear his voice so clearly in your head the moment one of your fingers finds its way inside of you. The familiar intrusion feels good but it's obviously not enough, so it isn't surprising that a second finger adds to the first in a matter of seconds and this time you feel fuller. You feel fuller and needier, because now you're realising that nothing will be actually enough, because what you need isn't a matter of size, it isn't a matter of how and how much; it's about him. It's all about him. 

About his face and his hands and his voice. About your own fingers trying to find the right pace as you can almost feel his lips on your skin. It's about you and the need to say his name even though you know that you shouldn't, because if you do, it'll become real. The shameful thought that you want your best friend in ways that you shouldn't, will become true if you say his name out loud. 

But you can't help it. Your fingers inside of you feel good enough to make you whimper and mutter words that don't make sense. They're enough to fuel the images in your mind and you can't take it anymore. So, against your will, his name leaves your lips and you feel some sort of relief with it, because now your needs have claimed his name as their own. Your lust has a name now, and you can't stop saying it. 

“Franco.” 

It comes out in a soft plea at first, loud enough so only you can hear it. But it doesn't take much time or effort for you to continue further, saying it louder and louder each time your fingers enter your cunt again. Soon the room is filled with your pleas and cries that almost sound like you're in pain, because in a way you are, but his name falling from your lips over and over are enough to cover them up. Or at least that's what you think. 

You would have heard the front door opening and closing if you were paying more attention to your surroundings. You would have heard the voice calling your name once, twice a second later and then the steps getting closer to your room. You would have had time to cover yourself and come up with an excuse if you weren't so lost in your own mind and body. That's why the only thing that brings you back to the present, to reality, is the light that bathes your face when your bedroom's door opens. 

Everything happens so fast that you're sure you won't be able to recall this memory in the near future. Or maybe you will, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

Once your eyes get used to the light that has suddenly corrupted the darkness in your room, your heart starts beating fast with horror. 

He's standing there, at your door, and the expression on his face is quite difficult to decipher. At his complete mercy, you're fully naked, laying on your bed with your legs wide open and your hands on your cunt; one of them with fingers buried deep inside you while the other is resting a little bit higher, just above your clit. Your chest is rising up and down with the heavy breathing that the pure terror and shame have triggered. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, you're frozen in the spot, unable to say a word, unable to act. 

The tension in the room is cut when he says your name, and maybe you're imagining things, but his voice sounds strangled.

Then, after some seconds, he mutters it again, your name. This time you're sure he's shocked with the scene in front of him but not entirely disgusted. 

The fear and guilt that had taken over you vanish almost completely when you see the expression on his face. Your eyes have adapted to the shining light coming into the dark room, so now you can see him more clearly, and the strange glint in his eyes is enough to make you think that maybe, just maybe, something good can come out of this situation.

Franco's eyes are wide open for a few shocking seconds. Then, when his brain processes the image before him, they start roaming your body. Bright green eyes observe your chest, bare tits and hardened nipples that seem to get even harder under his gaze. The valley between your breasts is covered in sweat and, in a strange way, that makes them look even more appealing. Your stomach, then, is a zone that perhaps you feel a little concerned to show too much but his expression doesn't change at any stop his eyes make on your body. He admires every part with the same intensity, with the same look of bewilderment in that gorgeous face.

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible groan when his eyes reach your lower stomach and your legs, long and thick. His mouth agape when, in a sudden movement full of boldness, you open them a little wider and let him see more. He's standing to your right, so he can't see all of you properly, but he can see enough and, by the expression on his face, he's loving every second.

The absence of a negative reaction on his part emboldens you to act. Your hands, as if they were separated entities from the rest of your body, resume the earlier activities. Two of your fingers find your clit at the same time your left hand grabs one of your breasts. A sigh leaves your lips at the sudden contact and the fact that Franco is watching your every move makes a wave of pleasure hit you hard. You're aware that you're starting to put on a pornographic show for your best friend and, honestly, you're enjoying it maybe too much.

This is the first time you've seen him so focused on something. All those times he told you he struggled with his own attention span, you should've known that being naked in front of him, touching yourself for him, would be all he'd need to keep quiet and focused. That's why you chuckle when your eyes find him again and you see that his gaze is still fixed in your body.

The sound, a mix of a giggle and a moan, make him look at your face.

"Franco." You moan his name for the hundredth time this evening and rejoice when you actually see him shiver at the sound of your voice. "Please, please help me." You whimper, your own fingers pumping in and out of you faster each time. Harder. "I need you."

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and you know that he's fighting against something, against the fact that, if he gives in, everything will change. You will be friends no longer, because friends don't do this, friends don't want each other in such a way. But you do, and both of you know it. You both also know that, if you act on your shared desire, then when the moment is over you'll probably be in a limbo, trying to figure out what comes next.

But Franco actually doesn't care about the after, he almost never thinks too much before he acts. He lives the moment. You know that and your knowledge gets reinforced when he opens his eyes again and walks towards you, closing the door behind him. In response your heart flutters with excitement. 

Your fingers leave you and go up to rest on your lower stomach when he reaches your side. He's standing at your right, and this time you realize that he's looking at you in the face, looking for your gaze. When your eyes finally meet again, you can read a question that is answered with a nod of your head. 

You want this. You want this so bad. 

Franco's left hand caresses your hair first. His long fingers intertwine in your locks and for a moment you close your eyes to enjoy the innocent touch that, in a different situation, would get you to sleep. But the grip becomes a bit firmer and now he's tugging on it so your head can move to the side again, that way you can meet his eyes. As his hand leaves your head and travels to your soft cheek and then your lips, you don't stop looking at each other. 

A gasp leaves your throat when his thumb sits on your lower lip, and then he puts it inside your mouth, gently enough to give you time so you can reject him if you want. But you don't, you would never.

Soft lips wrap around his finger. Franco's reaction to the feeling of your tongue against the pad of his thumb in an almost imperceptible moan. The sound is low, coming out from the centre of his chest through gritted teeth, and it is the first time in the night that you feel some sort of pride fluttering inside you. The simple fact that he's reacting like this to the first physical contact with you is enough to make you act even bolder than before, and you keep sucking on his finger while looking him in the eyes. 

Franco smiles almost tenderly before the tone of his voice becomes twisted. 

“Who would've thought…” he mutters, still looking at you. “That you were such a desperate slut, huh?”

The sound you make in response to his words is almost inhuman. You're desperate and he can hear it in the tone of your moans, that are still muffled by his finger inside your mouth. 

“All these years…” he continues, voice feeling like velvet on your heated skin. “You were always such a good girl. Always the one to behave properly, wise beyond her years, or at least that's what all of them said, your family and mine… What would they think of you, (y/n)?” Franco asks, the mocking tone coming back. You squirm on the bed as you take his finger deeper and hollow your cheeks, imagining his cock in its place. 

“What would they think of you, (y/n)?” He presses on. This time, you look up at him. “If I told them about this. How I found you naked on your bed, fingers deep inside your soaked cunt while moaning my name like the fucking little whore you are. What would your family say? And mine? Should I let them know how much of a slut you're?”

You almost cry when he takes his finger off your mouth. 

“Answer me.” He commands. “Should I let everyone know?”

“If it pleases you.” You answer, voice sounding a little hoarse because of the previous activity in your throat. 

He smiles. 

“Is that what you want? To please me?”

You nod, fully conscious that you're making yourself look desperate- and actually you are. His mere presence, the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne and the fact that he apparently wants you as much as you want him is enough for you. You're more than ready for him, for all of him, and Franco knows it. 

He knows it because it's written in you. All over the expression on your face and the way you open your legs for him when his right hand travels all the way down to your knee, and stays there, not moving back but neither further, torturing you silently. 

“Please.” You whisper. “Fran, I need you.”

It's funny, though. You're the one who's ready to please but you also are the one who begs. You've been actually begging him to touch you since the moment you saw him standing at the threshold.

Franco wishes you could read his mind and know that he's waited for this moment for a long time. He's wanted you since the moment you met, all those years ago. First, it was an innocent crush, that was all a child could offer, of course. But since you both grew into yourselves and he started to discover the world and other people- Franco had been with enough people to know that none of them could compare to you, even if he hadn't laid a hand on you yet. Something about you, about your aura, about the strong pull he felt towards you every single time you were in the same room, would assure him that nothing, no one, could compare to you. 

And now you're here, right in front of him, begging. The sound of your voice is almost haunting, like you're in deep pain. He could ask himself over and over again if this is the right thing to do, but in all honesty, he doesn't care about that. He only cares about you and the painful desire you make him feel even when he hasn't touched you properly yet. 

Besides, if you really need him as you say,  if you're in pain as you sound, who is he to deny you his help? Isn't he, after all, your best friend?

That thought is all he needs to vanish his worries to the darkest pit of his mind. 

“Are you really sure about this?” His voice cuts the silence once again. The eager nod coming from you makes him smile. “I need words, love.”

“Yes.” You answer almost too fast. “Please, Fran. Please. I can't wait anymore.”

He curses under his breath because he honestly can't believe it. He's amazed by your eagerness and so fucking turned on that he feels like he's going to cum right here and now. 

So, to avoid that, Franco doesn't waste any more time. Before you can blink twice, he's undoing his trousers and underwear, pulling them down as his hard cock springs out. You moan at the sight of it. Long and thick enough to make your mouth literally water, standing proud and impossibly hard against his shirt, almost staining the fabric with the precum that pools at the angry red tip. It's beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your cunt hurts with the anticipation of feeling it in you. 

After taking his shirt off, Franco's right hand travels down to his dick, grabbing it with a firm grip before pumping it a few times, smearing his own juices all over his length, which makes it look even more appetizing. 

You wait in your place on the bed, observing the small show of him touching himself for a few seconds until his right knee sinks on the mattress, right beside your shoulder. Then, his left hand goes to your hair, under your head, lifting it and adjusting it in the right way so the head of his dick is now right on your lips. He traces them with it, as if he were painting them. 

“So fucking perfect.” He whispers. In response, you let your tongue lick around the head of his dick, coaxing a deep moan out of him. The first contact with his skin is delicious but now you want more, so much more. And apparently he feels the same. 

“I'm gonna put it in your mouth. Is that okay, baby?” He asks. You make a sound that it's a mix between a whine and a moan as you nod for the hundredth time in the night. “Gonna suck my cock until I cum down your throat?” You almost jolt in excitement at that. “Yeah? You want my cum?”

Your answer sounds against the skin of his dick, which you keep licking. “Yes. Yes, please.”

That is the last thing you say for a few minutes, right before he presses the tip against your lips again and this time you open your mouth wide enough to take him in. The way Franco moans at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth is pornographic and you thank the Gods for that, the fact that he's always so vocal about everything and this situation is not an exception. Actually, his moans are all the fuel you need to keep going. The taste of him too. Everything about him makes you take him deeper inside your mouth every time he pulls almost all the way back, fucking your face faster and harder as the minutes pass by. 

The grip on your hair becomes tighter as the sounds of your throat being fucked fill the room. You gag only two times, when he pushes all the way in and holds his dick in the deepest part of your throat he can reach, your nose pressed against him and saliva falling down your chin and neck. Every time he pulls out, you take a second or two to gather your breath but soon enough he's at it again, and you receive him without any complaint, relaxing your throat all you can as he keeps filling it over and over again. 

The intensity and pleasure of it all becomes almost unbearable and soon you're pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the almost literal pain you feel. Franco sees it, attentive to your body even though a great part of his mind is clouded with the sweet abandon of pleasure. So, for a few seconds, he eases the grip on your hair so you can start doing most of the work now, because his right hand travels from your knee to your inner thigh, and it isn't long until you can feel his fingers in your cunt. 

Both of you moan at the feeling. You, because the pressure of his fingers on your slit ease the pain you've been feeling; him, because you're so fucking wet that, when he starts massaging your clit, your juices are so abundant that the movements he makes leave a loud, squelching sound behind them.

“You're soaked.” He moans, still inside your mouth and touching you at the same time. “Is this because of me, love?” 

The answer is obvious to both of you, but you answer anyway, “Yes.” You say, a hoarse voice can barely be heard above the sounds of your cunt. “Yes, it's because of you. Always.” 

Franco smiles, “Do you always touch yourself while thinking of me?” You nod and this time he laughs. It doesn't make you feel bad because it isn't a mocking laugh, it's like he can't believe it. “Same. You have no idea how many times I've made a mess while thinking of you.” 

As his velvety voice keeps sounding in your ears, he keeps massaging your clit, faster as the seconds go by. 

“I've imagined you in every position.” He mutters. “I've made myself cum so many times, thinking of your sweet mouth and cunt wrapped around me, milking me as many times as we wish.” 

He's realized from the first moment that dirty talking is one of your weaknesses, and lucky you, he loves saying naughty things, so he keeps doing it as he massages your clit and smiles triumphant when your legs start trembling and you look at him with an expression on your face that he will never forget. Glassy eyes look up at him as your teeth sinks into your lower lip; your orgasm is close and everything about you says so. 

When you try to close your eyes, his hand immediately slows the pace on your clit. You frown. 

“What-?”

“You keep looking at me.” He commands. You want to yell at him, but his movements become fast again and the sweet pressure on your lower belly comes back. “You look me in the eyes as you cum or I won't do this again, you understand?” You nod. “Words, (y/n).”

“I- fuck, I understand!” You moan as his fingers keep working you on at an impossible pace. 

Not many seconds pass by until the first orgasm hits you hard. Your eyes are still on his; your entire body trembling as the most lewd sounds leave your throat. The simple act of having an orgasm while looking at those beautiful green eyes is enough to bring tears to yours. The pleasure is too overwhelming. 

When the best seconds of your life so far end, your body relaxes and Franco pulls both his hands away from you, letting you rest on the bed. The fingers that worked your clit are now in his own mouth as he sucks them clean. The sight makes you moan. 

“Delicious.” He says, coaxing a giggle out of you. “What?”

“You're crazy. And so fucking hot.”

Franco smiles and shrugs. 

“You know me.”

“Not like this, no.”

“Oh, this? This is nothing, love.”

You frown, “You gave me the best orgasm of my life by simply touching my clit and you call it nothing? It never felt like that before.” 

“I mean, it's not my fault that your previous lovers were fucking idiots.”

You smile.

“And you're what, some sort of sex God?”

“That I am.” 

A genuine laugh escapes your lips. You laugh at his smug words and at the entire situation. Everything is so- surreal, in a way. It's almost comical. But the sound dies in your throat when you realize the way he's looking at you. He's not mad or annoyed, he just looks like he's discovered something new in you, but if he did he doesn't say it out loud. 

Soon, when you've recovered from your orgasm, you realize that Franco's still standing by your side and his dick is still impossibly hard. You remember his previous words, about sucking him off until he's cumming down your throat, and you feel the fire inside you light up once again. Your right hand wraps around his dick without a warning and he hisses, but he doesn't pull you away, instead enjoying your ministrations. 

“Not right now.” He says after a minute or two, as if he's reading your mind. You're sure, though, that he's actually reading the expression on your face as you jerk him off. It's clear that you want him to cum. “Not like this, I won't last long.”

You stop. Then, looking into his eyes, you open your legs for him once again. 

“Come here, then.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. In an instant, he's standing at your feet; both hands reach behind your knees and they pull you towards him. 

In a silent agreement, both of you take your time to look at each other. He's lucky enough to have you like this- completely bare before him, body glistening with sweat due to the previous activities, pretty face with an expression of utter pleasure as you anticipate what's coming, unconsciously opening your legs further, letting him fully see you. You're out of this world, so beautiful that it almost hurts. And he isn't so far behind- you also think he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with those eyes scanning every piece of you, his curls sticking to his forehead and, oh, such a pretty face. His body is something else too- the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen, the shape of his arms, his hands. You take his hands in yours for a moment, squeezing them, praying this isn't the last time you feel them on you. 

You're both so mesmerized with each other that your bodies seem to move with their own consciousness, and that's why you share a loud moan when he enters you for the first time. 

It feels like nothing you've experienced before. You can't decide what is it that makes him so different from other people you've been with, but surely, there's something that makes Franco feel like heaven. He stays still for a few, long seconds because he's just realized that he penetrated you without warning and in a single movement, and even though it's obvious that you're ready enough to receive him, he doesn't want to hurt you. 

What he doesn't realise is that you're in pain once again because you need him to move and put an end to this feeling, this primitive need to have him just fucking you hard and deep. And that's what you finally ask from him, without shame, without guilt. 

“Please.” You beg once again. “Move. Please, move. I need to feel you.” 

You're sure you're about to cry but the tears get stuck in your eyes when Franco complies and starts moving his hips. It's slow at first, like he's testing the waters, but when the only thing you do is moan softly and writhe under him, crying for more, his hands leave yours and travel to your hips. Once he's sure his grip on your flesh is firm enough, he accelerates the pace, and starts pumping into you with a force that has you almost screaming. 

Soon you start moving your own hips, meeting him halfway and making the experience a thousand times better, if that's even possible. The feeling of his dick inside you, so fucking deep, is more than anything you've ever felt in your life. 

The room is filled with the sound of your skin against his, and the musky smell of sex intoxicates your senses. You've dreamed about this moment for so long that it feels surreal- his hands on your hips, his cock deep inside you and his eyes roaming the entirety of your body, all of it feels so out of this world and you love every second. You love it so much that you feel drunk with pleasure and something else that you can name yet. 

Franco grins at the sight of your eyes, glassy with tears that you're soon to shed. A deep feeling of pride fills his chest. 

“Look at you.” He taunts, never stopping his movements. “You were made for this, weren't you? You were made for my cock, for me.” 

You nod and moan, unable to form a full sentence as his pace becomes impossibly fast and hard- it's almost too much and the thought of asking him to slow down crosses your mind for a split second, until his hands travel up from their place on your hips to your breasts, and your brain almost shuts down. 

“Gonna enjoy these later, I promise.” He chuckles as his long fingers start kneading the flesh of your tits. When he pinches your nipples, the moan that leaves your throat is almost too much, but you don't care. It feels too good to hold back. 

You relish on the feeling of his fingers on your hard nipples until his right hand stops its ministrations to start roaming the skin of your left side, your waist, all the way back down to your hip and then- then you feel his fingers on your clit again, massaging it with expertise. You can't help but throw your head back as a deep moan leaves your throat. 

“Fuck, yes.” You moan, almost hysterical. “So good, so good- oh my-” 

Franco chuckles again and then says, in a mocking tone, “You're so dirty, (y/n). You really-” his words are suddenly interrupted by a strangled groan as you tighten your walls around him. Your warmth hugging his dick in a way that has him literally losing his balance and almost falling on top of you, and he would've crushed you if his arms weren't strong enough to keep him hovering over you.

His face contorted in an expression full of sheer pleasure, he looks so good with his eyes closed and mouth agape, desperately trying to hold the moans in. 

You're the one who chuckles this time. 

“Too good, huh?” You tease him, your cunt tightening around him once again. He groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “Can't take it, baby? Too much for you?”

Franco moans again and then you hear him whisper.

“I'm gonna make you- you will pay for this.”

You giggle softly. 

“I think I'd like that.”

All resolve leaves him when you make your magic again. The feeling of your cunt hugging his dick so tightly is enough to make him lose his mind and almost all control. His movements become messier as they get faster, you feel him twitch inside you once, then twice. You hum at the feeling, caressing his back and nape, then intertwining your fingers with his messy, wet locks. 

“I'm close.” He moans, the sound muffled by your skin. 

“I know, baby. Come on, cum for me."

“You first.”

For a moment you think your words are enough, but apparently they aren't. In a second, Franco seems to take back control of the situation when he suddenly breaks away from your arms, kneeling in front of you just like before- his hard, throbbing dick still deep inside of you. You're about to ask him what's going on but then his long fingers are on your clit again, and you answer by throwing your head back in a loud moan. 

Franco keeps working on the most sensitive part of your body as he starts moving again, in and out, at a torturous pace that has you writhing on the bed. Your eyes fill with tears again and he smiles. 

“Cum for me, love.” He encourages through gritted teeth. You know he's holding his own orgasm back by fucking you slowly, and his will certainly impresses you. “Please, do it. Cum all around my cock.”

How would you deny him? When he looks so good fucking you, working on your clit like this isn't the first time. How would you deny him anything when this is all you've ever wanted?

So you let yourself go. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the previous one, sweet cunt gushing all around him, soaking him and the sheets below you. Your moans are almost pornographic and you feel him twitch inside you at the sound of them. 

In the electric explosion that takes over your entire body and mind, you feel him crawling back on top of you, like he was just minutes ago. His face hiding in your left shoulder again as his hips keep fucking into you aggressively, making your climax last longer than expected. 

“Look at me.” You moan in his ear and your body trembles with the sound of a deep groan coming as a response. After a few seconds of you repeating those words, he lifts his head to look at you, forehead pressed against yours. “Cum inside of me and don't stop looking at me as you do it.” 

He chews on his lower lip. 

“I-inside?” You nod as much as you can. “Fuck, (y/n).”

“Please, I need it.” You moan against his mouth, your eyes on his. “I need your cum.” 

That last sentence is accompanied by his name and the way you moan it's all it takes for him to finally let go. The sounds Franco makes when he's cumming deep inside of you are never going to leave your memory, and you wish, right here, now, that you have the opportunity to hear them again many times from tonight. The sight of him is beautiful too- brows furrowed, eyes desperately trying to stay open and that pretty mouth shaped in an O form. His cheeks are red and glistening with the sweat that's covering him, as well as the tip of his nose.

As he empties inside of you, you keep caressing his back, leaving goosebumps behind your touch. His skin shivers with the feeling, still making little sounds that will haunt you forever. 

He pumps into you two or three times more, still filling you with his release, that soon you start feeling overflowing your cunt, falling down your ass and on the sheets. You wonder if he always cums this hard, and the idea that he might not, that you're the only one that makes him feel like this, it's exciting. 

After some long seconds he stops moving his hips but is still buried deep inside of you. His face goes back to the crook of your neck for the second time and you smile as you feel his hot breath on your skin and then a kiss, then his teeth grazing the spot and sinking into it. 

“That's gonna leave a mark.” You moan. 

“Good.”

You stay like that for minutes that feel like hours, in each other's arms, your skin sticking to his due to the sweat that you both share but you couldn't care less. It feels too good, everything about it feels too good and none of you make an attempt to break away from the other. 

Franco knows, as well as you do, that this has been an event that will change everything forever. Some part of you is afraid of what comes next- a hundred questions flood your brain but the main one is the one that haunts you the most. Was this a one night stand? 

You're about to gather the courage to ask him when he lifts his head to look at you, forehead against yours again. You look him in the eyes and, for a moment, you think that the green in his gaze gives you the answer you so desperately need. But in case you needed confirmation, he decides to speak it out loud. 

“I wanna do it again.” He simply states, and you feel your chest full with happiness. “Like, forever. I really mean it.”

You giggle in response and you feel the tears that you've been holding back slowly falling down your cheeks. Franco kisses them away as soon as he notices them. 

“You liked it that much?” You ask as he keeps kissing your face. He stops for a moment to answer, his lips moving against your jaw. 

“Yeah. But I like you, all of you.” He says. “And I want you so much it hurts.”

“I want you, too.”

He smiles shortly before capturing your lips with his, and you realise that this is the first time you've ever kissed. People are supposed to kiss before having wild sex, but who cares?

All you care about is Franco and his pretty lips on yours, moving with such confidence and expertise that leave you breathless. You can feel everything in that kiss, it feels like he's trying to say all those things that he thinks it's too soon to say yet, but you answer him with the same intensity, making him tremble in your arms. 

His kiss says that he loves you too much to let you go, and you tell him that you feel the same.

a/n2: hope you liked it! pls let me know what you think ♥

[chansdoll]

창빈 ─── let me take care of you

♡ pairing ៸៸ gym trainer!changbin x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ vanilla , praise kink (if u really really squint), oral (f. rec) , shower sex , there's also a link hidden in the fic c; ♡ synopsis ៸៸ literally no plot just smut a/n ๑ here's a lil bini fic since someone requested this ! [ 3.2k words ] ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

another day, another gym session.

except this wasn’t just any gym session—it was with changbin, your personal trainer, and quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever met. you first crossed paths a few months ago when you decided it was time to pull yourself out of the post-breakup slump and hit the gym again. changbin had been scanning for potential clients when he noticed you, and from that moment, your fitness journey took an unexpected turn.

from the start, you found him absolutely captivating. his physique was the stuff of admiration—a flawlessly sculpted body that practically exuded strength and confidence. but it wasn’t just his physique; his face was just as alluring. full lips, a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room—it all worked together to make your heart skip a beat.

still, it was more than just his looks that drew you in. changbin’s kindness and patience stood out. he truly understood the challenges you faced, encouraging you every step of the way with unwavering support. and given your single status and lack of intimate company for months, he was the only person who had come to know your body as well as you did—albeit in a very different way.

but lately, things had begun to shift. each training session seemed to carry a weight that went beyond fitness. the tension between you had been growing steadily, layer by layer. subtle touches lingered a second too long. his warm, tender smiles felt more personal. and the compliments—sweet, sincere, and unexpectedly intimate—hung in the air like a charged whisper, leaving you wondering where this might lead.

you had just wrapped up a grueling workout and were now easing into your stretches with changbin by your side. today’s session had been particularly intense, focusing heavily on lifting, and you’d pushed yourself harder than ever. the ache in your muscles was proof of your effort, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. clearly, changbin was proud of you too.

“you did great today,” he praised, his voice warm and encouraging.

he knelt beside you, helping guide your leg toward your abdomen as you stretched. his touch was firm but careful, his movements precise, yet you could sense the restraint in him. his eyes flicked to your form briefly, but he quickly refocused, clearly trying to remain professional. it wasn’t easy, though, considering the snug spandex leggings that clung to every curve of your lower half and the sports bra that, while functional, accentuated your breasts, which were pressed against the fabric with every deep inhale you took.

“thanks,” you replied breathlessly, switching to your other leg. changbin shifted to adjust his position, his pelvis hovering just above your ass as you lay flat on the mat. the closeness of his body, combined with the strength in his arms as he pressed your leg toward your torso, sent a wave of heat surging through you.

it settled deep in your core, and you fought to push the feeling away. determined not to let your thoughts spiral, you turned your head and focused your gaze anywhere but on him, desperately trying to ignore the way his touch and attention was making you feel.

as changbin adjusted his position, his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. his hands were warm and strong, holding your leg securely as he leaned in to guide your stretch. you could feel the tension in the air thickening, subtle but undeniable. the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of your workout, making your senses hyperaware of his proximity.

“relax into it,” changbin murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. his breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine despite the heat coursing through you.

you exhaled slowly, trying to follow his instruction, but the pressure of his hands and the way his body was aligned with yours made it difficult to focus. as your muscles stretched and lengthened under his guidance, your thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn’t.

his hands moved slightly, adjusting the angle of your leg. the contact was innocent enough, yet it sent a spark straight to your core. his thumbs pressed gently into your thigh, massaging the tension there, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hum that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked, his tone low and careful, though there was a hint of something else in it—a slight rasp that betrayed his own composure.

“y-yeah,” you managed to reply, your voice unsteady.

but changbin didn’t move away. instead, his gaze flickered down to you, his dark eyes studying your face. “you’re holding tension here,” he said, his hands sliding down slightly to work at the tight muscles in your hips. the motion was slow, deliberate, and his fingers pressed firmly yet gently, igniting a slow burn deep within you.

your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. his face was so close now, his lips parted slightly as though he was about to say something more. but no words came. instead, the moment seemed to stretch endlessly between you, the space between your bodies almost nonexistent.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, the firmness of his hands, the way his body hovered just above yours. and then, as though caught in some invisible pull, your eyes locked. the air crackled with unspoken desire, and suddenly, all the restraint from earlier seemed to crumble.

changbin’s hands stilled against your body, and you felt his grip tighten slightly, as if grounding himself. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and he glanced away for a moment, exhaling deeply. “i-i don’t… we shouldn’t…” he began, his voice low and uneven, though it lacked conviction.

you reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. “it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. you leaned up slightly, your body arching toward him, driven by a pull you could no longer resist. “i don’t mind, if you don’t.”

and in an instant, you two were in the back of the gym, messily making out inside the employee showers. you had the curtain covering you both as you kissed each other, as well as the water running so nobody could hear the sinful noises of you two claiming each other.

the water was cascading down both of your bodies, getting your workout attire drenched. changbin let out a moan as he pressed you against the tile wall, grinding his length against your thigh.

you eagerly tugged his shirt off, wanting to see more of him.

in the haze of passion, your hands trembled slightly as you pulled changbin’s drenched shirt over his head, tossing it onto the wet floor without a second thought. the sight of his bare torso under the dim, steamy light took your breath away—every muscle, every defined line glistening under the cascade of water.

your hands roamed his chest, fingers tracing his abdomen before sliding up to his broad shoulders. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and he shuddered as your nails lightly grazed him.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathy and full of awe.

changbin’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more fervent. his hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling your soaked body flush against his. you gasped into his mouth as the rough texture of the tile wall contrasted with the heat of his touch. his hips pressed into you, and the friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through your core.

he broke the kiss momentarily, his forehead resting against yours as his hands slid up, fingers brushing over the fabric of your sports bra. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky but tinged with care.

you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “i’ve never been more sure,” you whispered, pulling him back into a searing kiss.

his hands moved with purpose, tugging at the hem of your sports bra. you raised your arms, helping him remove it, and the cool air of the shower hit your exposed skin before the warmth of his hands replaced it. his palms cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from your lips.

the steam swirled around you both, cloaking the scene in a veil of intimacy as changbin’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone. the sound of water hitting the tiles mingled with your quiet moans and his deep groans, creating a symphony of passion that seemed to echo in the small space.

your fingers fumbled with the waistband of his shorts, eager to feel more of him. he let out a shaky breath as you pushed them down, your touch exploring the contours of his hips and thighs. you could see the outline of his thick, hard cock through his briefs, and your core ached so intensely you could feel a heartbeat between your legs.

the tension that had built between you for weeks was now unraveling, every kiss, every touch, bringing you closer to a point of no return.

changbin’s hands slid down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed against you. his breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

you smiled against his lips, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “then show me,” you whispered, and with that, he captured your mouth again, his fingers curling under your leggings and yanking them down as well as your panties without hesitation.

you blushed, feeling bare and exposed in front of him. it had been a long time since you had been bare before a man, and changbin could sense your anxiety. “you look fucking gorgeous,” he growled, yanking them off your legs fully before kneeling in front of you and lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. you responded with a tiny gasp, realizing what he was preparing to do. changbin's dark eyes locked with yours as he knelt before you, the water cascading over his sculpted frame. his hands slid up your thighs, strong yet gentle, as if reassuring you of how much he wanted this—wanted you. the heat of his breath contrasted with the cool tile against your back, and the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine.

“you don’t have to be nervous,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing but laced with hunger. “let me take care of you.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. the sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and desire that left you trembling. his lips moved slowly, trailing upward, each kiss stoking the fire coursing through your body.

when his mouth finally reached your core, your breath hitched. his tongue was warm and deliberate, exploring you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to drive you wild. your hand flew to his hair, gripping the wet strands as your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips.

he moaned against your cunt, his tongue swirling and flicking over your sensitive flesh with relentless determination. the wet sounds of his mouth on your skin were just barely audible, driving you to new heights of pleasure. he savored every inch of you, the scent and taste that he had craved for so long.

a sharp cry escaped your lips as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling and lapping at it with fervent desire. his face was buried between your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he devoured you without restraint. your body arched and quivered under his skilled touch, each wave of pleasure building higher and higher until it consumed you completely.

“bin…” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

he growled in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. his grip on your leg tightened as he pulled you closer, his mouth working you with an intensity that made your toes curl. the sensations were overwhelming, the combination of his touch, the warmth of the water, and the way his tongue moved against you unraveling you completely.

your free hand pressed against the tile, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use. the tension building in your core was too much, too fast. “oh my god,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

changbin glanced up at you briefly, his eyes smoldering with desire as he watched you come undone above him. his lips curved into a small, cocky smile before he doubled down, his tongue and lips moving with a precision that left you breathless.

your body arched involuntarily, the sensations overwhelming as the pleasure built to a crescendo. your grip on his hair tightened, and with one final, broken cry of his name, the tension snapped, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. your legs trembled, and the one leg you were using to keep yourself standing in the shower was barely holding you upright.

as you came down from the high, your chest heaved, and your legs trembled. changbin stood slowly, his hands steadying you as he cupped your face and kissed you deeply, letting you taste the passion you’d just shared.

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and breathless, as if he’d been just as affected by the moment as you were. you two made out again, lost in the shared taste of each other, until you broke it. “fuck me,” you panted, your voice soft and breathy.

“please, fuck me.”

changbin’s breath hitched at your words, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if grounding himself. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with desire yet softened by a hint of hesitation. “you want it?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely audible over the water.

you nodded, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “please, changbin.”

something in him shifted, the tension and restraint he’d been holding onto dissolving. his lips captured yours again, this time with a hunger that left no room for doubt. his kiss was fervent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your body, every touch igniting a new wave of heat.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he freed his thick, pulsating cock from its confines. it was girthy and heavy, throbbing with an almost painful urgency that sent shivers down your spine. just looking at it made you nervous for what was to come, but also filled you with a primal desire you couldn't deny. the veins along its length were prominent and promising. you could feel the heat radiating off of it, making your own body flush with anticipation.

with a fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. the water cascaded over both of you, amplifying the intensity of every sensation. you could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your core, and the anticipation made you gasp.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses as his hands gripped your thighs to steady you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with reverence and need.

“bin…” you whispered, your fingers threading through his wet hair, tugging lightly as your hips rolled against him, seeking more.

he groaned at the friction of his cock grinding between your slick lips, the sound deep and guttural, as he adjusted his position.

one hand slipped between you, and you shivered as his fingers teased your entrance, his touch deliberate and confident. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

“then do it,” you urged, your voice trembling with need. “i’m yours.”

his gaze locked with yours for a fleeting moment, the intensity in his eyes sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. slowly, he entered you, the stretch and fullness drawing a gasp from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

his thick length filled every inch of you as he pushed deeper and deeper. the weight of him pressed against your skin, the sensation almost overwhelming but also intoxicating. his fat cock stretched you to your limits, each movement sending electrifying sensations coursing through your body. you could feel every ridge and vein as he plunged into you, claiming you completely.

“fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.“you feel incredible.” he moaned breathlessly, his brows knitted together as he fought the urge to cum right away.

“so do you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips before rolling your hips against him. the movement sent a shiver through him, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, building in intensity.

lost in the moment and completely overtaken by his desire, changbin's grip on your hips tightened as he began to lift you effortlessly, moving your body up and down on his cock with a strength that made you feel weightless. his motions were powerful and unrelenting, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body as if he was claiming every inch of you.

the sounds echoing in the steamy shower were shamelessly erotic—your bodies colliding with wet, rhythmic slaps, punctuated by the increasingly loud moans spilling from your lips. it was such a stark contrast to the tentative quiet you’d both maintained when you first slipped into the shower, and yet now, the tension between you had unraveled into something raw and untamed.

you couldn’t help but glance down at him, the sight alone making your head spin. the way his strong arms supported you, his muscles flexing with each movement, and the determined, almost primal look on his face as he drove into you—it was intoxicating. the intensity of it all made your walls flutter around him involuntarily, earning a deep groan from his lips that only fueled your desire further.

your back arched against the tiles, the sensation overwhelming as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

your body tensed as his cock repeatedly hit your g-spot with relentless force, causing a deep pit to form in your stomach and your clit to pulse uncontrollably. the pleasure was overwhelming, almost bordering on pain, but you couldn’t help but crave more of his intense thrusts. after a few more thrusts, you were trembling, your core fluttering with impending release.

“changbin… i’m so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension in your body built to its peak.

“me too,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours as his movements grew faster, more erratic.

with one final thrust, the tension snapped, and you cried out his name as the pleasure consumed you, your body trembling in his arms. he followed moments later, his groan vibrating against your neck as he held you tightly, riding the waves of ecstasy together.

the water continued to cascade over you both as you clung to each other, your breaths mingling in the steamy air. changbin pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice warm and tender as he whispered, “i’ve waited so long for this,”

you smiled, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as you replied, “so have i.” and as the water continued to fall around you, you knew this was for sure the start of something between you two.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[thanksbutno98]

How Time Flies

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price is forced to deal with Simon Riley’s wrath regarding John’s son.

Warnings: sexual themes, talks of marriage, swearing, pregnancy, not edited

——————

“Slow down, darling.” John’s voice came from somewhere over your shoulder but you ignored him.

The warm glow of the summer sun was beginning to pick up as the morning faded into afternoon. Cinnamon and fresh fruit floated in the air as the pies you baked cooled on the windowsills. One was blueberry which was your husband, John Price’s, favorite while the other was a classic apple, which was your son’s.

“They’re gonna be here any minute. I wanna get this done so when we start grilling I don’t have to worry about it.” Shooting John a smile over your shoulder you did a double take.

Some days you were so busy you forgot to admire the man you had spent your life with. It had been so long you started to wonder where time had gone. The hairs on his head and beard had sprouted grey daring to take over take the brown. John liked to call it the only ‘invasion’ that he was incapable of stopping.

The wrinkles by his eyes and forehead stopped setting in long ago. If you recalled it was the day he retired from active duty. He referred to it as chaining himself to a desk but you knew his body appreciated the lack of abuse it took in his younger years. You appreciated it greatly because work no longer abducted him at a moments notice. The pain and worry had finally left regarding his job. Now all you worried about was him getting into a fight over road rage or someone gawking at you or your daughters.

John looked so handsome now middle aged in his blue jeans and olive button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You thought in retirement he would let himself go a little. Finally allow a layer of fat to coat his once rugged body, but he didn’t. Now he hit the gym religiously on base and was just as in shape as when he was the young Luitenant you fell in love with. You asked him why and muttered something about not being a spring chicken anymore.

“Think you’ll ever slow down?” John was on you now.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, bearded face nuzzled into your neck. He laid sensual kisses along the exposed skin. Hot spearmint breath and woodsy cologne invaded your sense, drowning out the baked good. You could feel the smirk against your skin as he lightly sunk his pearly whites into your shoulder. It made an electric shiver run up your spine. One that usually ended with you feeling like a live wire when John was done with you.

“Think we have time before they get here?” John purred into your ear, tongue darting out and licking just behind your ear lobe. The tingling sensation had you begin to nod your head, ready to turn in John’s muscular arms and have him carry you upstairs.

“Jesus, do you two ever keep your hands to yourself? Thought old age would make you stop.” Your son’s voice came from behind you and John.

John let go of you and turned to see his fully grown son standing at the open back door. Jj still to this day looked so much like John but not nearly as much as when he was a child. Only the young man decided to forego the facial hair and stay clean shaven, today he had stubble.

Jj was tall like John with broad shoulders and an athletic physique. Only Jj stopped worrying about being toned long ago and was a tad bit stockier than John, but there sure as hell were rock hard muscles under the bit of soft fat. As much as Jj looked like John his eyes were bright like yours and little bits of you sparkled through when he wasn’t being so serious like he had become.

“Your mums not old.” The way John spoke you could hear a warning hidden in his words.

You were sensitive about getting older and John knew that. He claimed you looked younger than your actual age, like you always had. Even your friends told you the same, jealous of how time seemed kinder to you. Your children had made a few comments, joking they all hoped to age like you instead of John. But John told you there was beauty in you aging, because he had a front row seat to see how spending your lives together left behind the evidence on your skin. And it made him love you more. Those laugh lines and creases by your eyes were from the smiles and joy you shared together as husband and wife.

“Right, you’re the only old one here.” Jj joked, his stoic demeanor dropping as he seemed to settle into visiting home.

“Smells good, mum.” The compliment made you smile, pushing the charcuterie board you set out towards your grown son.

Your son had become much more stoic and serious with years in the military under his belt. He always thought he would be a sniper like John but had found he was incredible at interrogations. Gaz had gotten him into it and Jj never looked back. Since he was a boy Jj was able to walk into a room and take the temperature of it in seconds. This roll in the military played to his intuitive strengths and ability to read people better than you and John could. It made your ability to have people open up seem sub par at times.

“Wheres the soon to be wife?” John asked playfully, pulling out two beers.

“Funny dad, I don’t know if she wants the whole marriage thing. But she’s coming with her parents. I assume you’re cooking up a feast like usual mum?” Jj grabbed the beer, ate some cured meat, and gave his father a playful shove as John patted his back.

The shove turned into the two trying to get the other one in a headlock. It brought back memories of John rough housing with Jj as he grew up. John always won back then but now you watched as he struggled a lot more. Jj had a cocky smirk and was egging John on by calling him an old man. That seemed to rile John up enough he stopped holding back and man handled Jj into a headlock.

“Fuck, okay okay, you win.” Jj croaked out when John started adding pressure.

“That’s what I thought.” John shoved Jj forward, the two laughing and licking their wounds.

Jj was rubbing his sore neck and rolling his shoulders back. While John massaged his lower back which you knew he’d be asking you to do later. He would claim he ‘over did it’ but it was just his way of getting a back rub. Sometimes John played up the ‘old man’ act to get you to baby him which you found endearing.

“Making all the favorites. She requested dates of all things.” You looked to Jj silently asking what that was about. The two of you continued to snack and sip your drinks as you caught up.

“Yeah, apparently it’s good at this point. Not sure why but I bet she’d tell you all about it.” With a shrug Jj moved on and started to chat with John about football.

Having any of your kids home left you and John beaming. Nowadays it was rare to get you all together when it wasn’t a holiday. Evelyn was constantly busy with her work schedule, Lily was in culinary school, and Jj was deployed a lot more than you liked.

Today you would all be together and you and John had been chatting about it for a week now. John saw Jj more than you did because they would grab lunch on base or workout together. Lily stopped by a lot, she wasn’t a fan of having roommates and looked for guidance a lot more than her siblings ever did. Evelyn on the other hand was off living her life and you saw her the least. She made the effort to call but having become a doctor at her local ER she had a lot on her plate.

“And look at that they’re here before your sisters.” John pointed to the familiar black truck that just parked behind Jj’s navy SUV.

“Go make sure they don’t need anything Jj.” With a shared smile Jj finally came over and gave you a quick kiss to the cheek and a side hug.

“Don’t let him kill me.” Jj whispered to you so John couldn’t hear.

You gave him a reassuring nod and wink. You loved that even being a grown man didn’t stop Jj from asking for your protection. He had called you the previous night expressing his anxieties and concerns about today. This relationship of his was a shock to everyone. When you found out his girlfriend’s father did not approve of your son you weren’t sure if you were surprised. Which you could understand with the current development.

Jj disappeared out the back and was soon back carrying a purse and wrapped gift. His girlfriend was in tow with a charming smile just like her mother’s and clearly telling Jj to go do something. It was new seeing Jj with a partner, you were use to him avoiding relationships unlike his sisters. He was commonly alone at holidays or at parties while Evelyn had been with her fiancé for years and Lily had a string of girlfriends.

The young woman Jj had been dating was dressed in light blue jean overalls with a sage green t-shirt underneath and cute white sneakers. Her light brown wavy hair was tied back in a low ponytail with a cute gold clip pinning back her bangs. Those bright green eyes of hers were still the most noticeable feature until you looked down at the prominent bump that had been growing for six months now.

“Mel! How are you doing?” You were so happy to see the soon to be mother of your first grandchild.

The way you waved her into the house and immediately pulled out coconut water that she requested had her nerves calming. Your welcoming nature made it easy to feel close to you and desire a connection.

“Hey, Indy. I’m doing great. Not to sure how my dad’s doing though. Mums trying to convince him to get out of the truck.” She had a melodic way of speaking that truly did her name justice.

“Melody, where did you say to put this?” Jj asked, lightly shaking the gift box by his ear to figure out what it was.

You swore you saw flashes of that little ten year old. Seeing your son as a grown mad about to be a father had been playing tricks on you. The memories of raising him were invading your mind at all times now. It had you and John reminiscing about when you became parents and how time flies.

“It’s Uncle John’s birthday present since we missed his party.” Mel motioned for Jj to give it to his father only he gave Mel a grossed out look.

“Can you not call him Uncle John. It makes it sound like we’re related.” With a grossed out tone Jj then looked around the room looking for backup.

“She’s been calling me Uncle John since before you were toilet trained. So no.” John snagged the present from his son and then gave Mel a hug.

“Thank you.” Taking the gift John placed it on the kitchen island.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” With a large smile you watched as Mel’s mother came through the back door with her looming shadow of a husband behind her.

“Nice to see you Dove-“ John gave the woman he’d known for so long a friendly wave and she did the same. They served together in the military which was a large reason why John had become close friends with her over two decades ago.

“Simon, how you doin’ mate?” John raised his beer and gave the hulking man a friendly smirk.

Ghost was living up to his name in this moment. In his dark jeans and black cotton t-shirt his presence chased away the summer sun. The room seemed to dim with the rolling storm clouds that seemed to follow him. Simon’s eyebrows were knit and lips fixed in a firm line. His eyes were fixed on Jj who was drinking his beer and avoiding making eye contact by offering Mel some food. She was batting his efforts away whispering that she couldn’t eat that.

“Pissed off.” Simon Riley spoke with a rumbling growl through gritted teeth.

“Quit it! You promised to be nice.” Dove swatted his shoulder but it did nothing to stop the murderous stare he had set on your son.

No part of Simon was okay with Jj Price having been the man to get his oldest daughter pregnant. Simon did promise to be civil but now seeing the man who did this set his teeth on edge. It was the first time seeing Jj since Mel told her parents the news.

“I will once this twat stops dragging his feet and proposes.” Simon’s comment had everyone in the room prickling up. He brought suffocating atmosphere.

“Watch it.” You quickly snapped.

“Oi, down boy.” John tried out firm humor.

“Simon!” Dove gasped and pinched his side.

“What!? Fuckin’ lucky I don’t drown you in the bloody pond for putting your grubby hands on my daughter.” Dove grabbed Simon before he could stand nose to nose with Jj who seemed unimpressed.

“You’re hilarious dad.” Mel rolled her eyes at Simon’s rude remark and gave Jj an annoyed look.

You noticed how she stood close to Jj and positioned herself in a way that Simon would have to go through her to get to your son. It was subtle but purposeful.

Jj stayed silent not wanting to piss off Ghost more than he already had. Since Mel told her parents she was pregnant Simon had been irate since she hadn’t told them she was even in a relationship. Mel had also waited until it was impossible to keep it to herself anymore and Dove dragged it out of her once she started to show. So this was still fresh news to the Riley’s, having only known for a week.

“Hilarious? What’s fucking funny?” Simon challenged his oldest daughter.

“You and mum weren’t married when she got pregnant with Fae! And you can’t even lie about it because I was five and remember you two getting married. Also, mum wasn’t even married to Peter when she had me so if you wanna lecture anyone, lecture your wife.” The harsh response had the room falling silent.

It was an awkward tension watching Mel air out her parents dirty laundry. You all knew the details but no one expected Dove to get thrown under the bus. Dove seemed to take it on the chin and waved her hand softly for Mel to calm down. A look in her mother’s eyes that reassured those who could see her that Dove had things handled.

“Mel, wanna go for a walk?” Jj was already walking for the back door not waiting for her response. It didn’t go unnoticed how Jj’s hand slid across Mel’s lower back and guided her with him.

Jj tried to walk around Simon but he stepped in the way squaring up to him. Jj tried not to come off aggressive but he wasn’t about to back down while Simon was a guest in this house. The two men stared at one another neither looking scared of the other. Jj wore a blank expression while Simons rage was painted on his face.

“Stop being a brute.” Mel lightly pushed Simon out of the way, grabbed Jj’s hand and pulled him out the back door.

There was a beat of silence as all around watched the two walk hand in hand towards the pond down the hill.

“See what you’ve done. You’re pushing her away.” Dove threw her hands in the air and turned on Simon with her finger in his face.

“You’re not allowed to be against me on this.” Simon snapped at his wife.

Dove knew he was desperate for anyone to be as angry as him but she wasn’t. Quite frankly she was excited to be a grandmother and supported her daughter in the choices she was making.

“I think everyone’s against you on this, mate.” John tried to be sympathetic but Simon rounded on him.

“Yeah? And what if Tommy knocked up one of your girls?” The crude remark had you and Dove letting out shocked gasps.

No one was expecting Simon to bring his own son into the argument as an example. Let alone talk about him being involved with your daughters.

“You’re being a dick!” You hissed but John was already stepping up to Simon, a wave of aggression rolling off of him.

“Well, my girl’s wouldn’t look twice at your boy.” John barked back, now standing with his chest puffed out.

“Okay, I think you need to go sit in the car.” Dove was in between the men who looked like they were about to throw punches. She looked tired from having to deal with Simons disapproval of the situation.

“Fine, I didn’t want to come in anyway.” Simon half shouted as he stomped his way to his truck.

“God, he’s a piece of work.” You were exasperated watching the hulking man slam the door of his truck so loud you were surprised the window didn’t shatter.

“You have no idea. He’s been pissy beyond belief at home. Can’t wrap his head around how he didn’t know they were dating or that Mel had been pregnant for so long. . . I mean, I’m surprised at how well she hid it too.” Dove took the beer John was offering her and gulped down two large swigs.

“Were they dating?” You asked feeling John pinch your bum at the question. He was shaking his head at you to not go down this path.

You had brought this up to John a few times and he kept shooting you down. Telling you to believe what your son told you and stop being skeptical. He even went as far to ask if you thought Jj was a lair. So you stopped bringing it up and only discussed your excitement to be grandparents.

“Jj won’t fess up either?” Dove asked ignoring how John was looking between you two as if you were crazy for taking about this.

John thought gossiping like this was beneath all of you. It shocked him to hear you behaving like this. His son was a grown man and none of you should be weighing in on his choices unless he asked for that. But that didn’t seem to be stopping you and Dove.

“Think they were just a fling if I’m honest.” It was a crass comment but Dove was shaking her head in agreement.

“Oi, those are our children. We should not be-“ putting her hand up Dove cut John off. She had run out of patience and didn’t feel like sugar coating the way she spoke.

“Join Simon in the truck if you’re going to be like this.” Pointing to the window John’s expression turned angry to be bossed around by someone who wasn’t you. Dove was at the end of her rope with irritable men and was fine being short with John.

“Agreed. There’s no judgement we’re just comparing notes.” You shrugged and then dramatically waved your arm towards the back door.

“Bloody ridiculous.” John snatched his present off the counter knowing it was an expensive bottle of alcohol and then grabbed two glasses.

“Such babies.” Dove sarcastically said before you jumped into figuring out the timeline of Mel and Jj’s relationship.

John wanted to slam the back door but he had spent way too much money on it to break it now. Stepping out on to the patio John could see Mel and Jj sitting on the dock down by the pond. He wondered what they were talking about and if Dove knew anything more than you did. Part of him wished he stayed to find out more but he couldn’t get himself to participate in good conscience.

Taking his attention off his son John looked over to see Simon sitting in his truck staring straight forward like a man possessed. John took a look at the present wrapped in red polka dot paper and then walked over to the truck. Simon tried to ignore John but eventually looked over at Price who was waving the gift and shaking two glasses at him.

It took Simon a moment to contemplate what to do but he knew that was an expensive bottle of bourbon. Mel had asked what John liked and Simon recalled him complimenting his bourbon last time he was over. So, Simon emerged from his truck and followed Price to the front of the house where they silently sat on the front porch and shared a drink.

Simon was the one to break the since. The wind chime on the front porch blew in the breeze, light chimes carrying with the wind.

“Your boy better step up.” Simon had his eyes fixed straight ahead and the glass to his lips.

His breath fogged the crystal, tilting his head back Simon drank the contents in one go with no reaction. He then poured himself another glass to sip on. It was going to take a lot of liquor to deal with everything going on. Simon didn’t normally speak to Price like this but his anger was at an all time high.

Mel was Simons little girl. She may not be biologically his daughter and he hadn’t met her until she was three but she was his daughter in all the ways that mattered. Simon would always see Mel as his first little girl, she had made him a father all those years ago when she struggled with her biological dad’s rejection. Simon was the man who stayed, who chose to raise her out of love not obligation. It was slow and took years but by the time Mel was five she bounced between calling him Simon or dad. Still to this day she called him either and he didn’t mind.

Simon felt particularly protective of Mel. He’d watched what the rejection of her biological father did to her. How she had trouble trusting that someone could love her who wasn’t her mother. It was years until Mel had truly accepted Simon as her father and he signed those adoption papers. But still to this day Simon knew she struggled accepting she could be truly loved; even by him.

Her independence was how she coped with the deep seated issue. No one could tell her what to do or how to live her life. She was the one in charge and who chose who could be in her life. It left her ready to leave relationships quickly or avoid them all together. The few Simon witnessed were with men who were uninterested in commitment; just like Jj. It was painful watching his oldest daughter set herself up for heart break. She was hyper sensitive to abandonment and Simon would murder the Price boy if he abandoned his pregnant daughter.

Simon wasn’t sure Mel would be able to recover if that happened.

“He will. I think you know that.” John sighed as he took a large gulp of the bourbon.

“His call sign is Mag. Because of the amount of birds he’s fu-“ John cut Simon off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t pretend he’s not doing what every other young man does. He’s perfectly respectful of Mel, she’s the only one.” It was hard for John to sit here and not bite Simon’s head off for the constant disrespect.

John understood where Simon was coming from, he truly did. If his daughter came home six months pregnant and the man who did it wasn’t planning on marrying her, John would become murderous. But being on the other side and knowing the kind of man Jj was, John felt he should be given the space to do the right thing. Because John knew he raised Jj to do the right thing.

“I wasn’t. Dove can attest to that. Just because you were a slag in your youth doesn’t mean every man was.” It was surprising to learn that about Simon.

John wasn’t sure why but he assumed Simon was sleeping around as a young man. It’s who John was so it didn’t surprise him when Jj was like that. Maybe his idea of being sexually active was skewed.

“He’s going to do right by Mel. Give him a chance.” John tried to reason with Simon.

“Didn’t even know they were friendly, let alone dating.” The shame Simon felt for not picking up on this was deep rooted.

He was suppose to see signs like this. Pick up on the little details. Was he losing his edge? Simon saw Jj most days, they’d been deployed together, served together, he was Jj’s commanding officer. Mel even visited Simon a few times on base while Jj was with him. Had they been together at that point? Were the others in his command aware Jj was sleeping with Simons daughter? Was the joke on him?

“Still can’t fuckin’ believe it. Never thought it’d be those two who wound up together.” Taking another sip of his drink silence fell over them.

Maybe Price was right. Would it be harmful to give the boy a chance to do the right thing? It would mean more to Melody if Jj did it on his own instead of at gunpoint. So Simon sat there and tried to calm himself, because Mel deserved to have agency in her life. Simon needed to let her do this because he raised her properly and he trusted her judgement.

~

“I really think Ghost is going to try and get me killed next deployment.” Jj was staring out over the pond he had grown up swimming in.

The wind swept across the navy water leaving ripples in its wake. Sitting under the clear sky and warm sun was leaving Jj face tingly as the beams pricked his skin. Mel wouldn’t admit but she was running hot more so nowadays. She glanced out of the corner of her eye making sure Jj wasn’t looking as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her back ached sitting on the wooden dock but her swollen ankles felt better dipped into the cool water. She liked that Jj helped get her shoes off and then how he joined her after rolling his pants legs up.

Jj was starting to wonder what it would be like for his children and what kind of childhood they would have. It felt strange to even think he was starting a family. Jj hadn’t been in a committed relationship since right before boot camp. Now here he was, about to be a dad. A dad with the girl he had a major crush on since he was ten.

“He’s a man baby, he’ll get over it. Just needs to throw a tantrum first.” Mel nudged Jj with her shoulder and gave him a soft smile.

The smile faded as she watched him continue to stare out over the pond. Jj wasn’t a particularly open book so getting him to share his feelings had been like pulling teeth at times. It’s what drew Mel to him, she found that kind of mysteriousness attractive. She also tended to go for emotionally unavailable men and it probably had to do with her abandonment issues from her biological father but she chose to ignore the truth.

“You okay?” Lightly placing her hand on Jj’s broad shoulder she shook him to grab his attention.

“You know I had a huge crush on you when we were kids? But you were two years older than me so I didn’t think you knew I existed.” With furrowed brows Jj shared this not knowing where he was going with it.

“It was kinda hard not to notice you at school since all the girls were in love with you. But you had Rory, so I never thought of you like that.” Mel admitted wondering what Jj was getting at.

“Well, Rory was the last girl I dated seriously. I haven’t really thought about settling down. Ya’know I’m gone a lot.” Jj continued to look out over the pond but he could feel Mel’s soft gaze on him.

She was sweet and fiery. A no nonsense person at times and then an absolute riot. She was funny, playful, and guarded. Her quick wit and need for privacy were alluring to Jj. Mel had been this way since they were kids, it’s why his crush never faded, because she consistently stayed the same. Now she was just grown, more mature, but held all the same things that made Jj’s head spin. He couldn’t deny she had always been his dream girl but it was hard admitting something so vulnerable.

“I know.” She spoke softly but there was no malice which Jj assumed there would be.

He kept wondering why she was okay with him being so uncertain on their relationship. Little did he know Mel was familiar with abandonment and never trusted a man to stay. So when she found out she was pregnant Mel was ready to do it on her own from the start.

“Jj, I don’t want you to marry me. Me getting pregnant was an accident. I mean c’mon we were stupid one time and this happened.” Mel motioned to her belly which finally had Jj looking down at the growing bump.

“It was more than once.” Jj mumbled.

“Well, once without a condom.” The cheeky comment made Mel laugh.

The two of them had never thought about dating one another. Sleeping together happened once, spur of the moment. It was at one of those big start of summer parties the Price family commonly threw.

Mel and Jj hadn’t seen each other in years but there was a chemistry they couldn’t deny that night. So they snuck to Jj’s old bedroom while everyone was downstairs. After that they only ever slept together when they happened to run into one another. Then it was more common when Jj started to call her up when he was home from deployment. And one drunken night they didn’t use protection and now here they were. About to be parents.

Back then when things were only about sex it was easy; because things were inconsequential. Lust was the driving force. The sneaking around was exhilarating. If Ghost ever caught them he would’ve killed Jj. And there was something incredibly hot about sleeping with his commanding officers daughter. Jj didn’t know it would feel that way until one day Ghost was particularly foul and Jj was smirking to himself about how he had bedded that assholes daughter. It was gross and he felt guilty for feeling that way until Mel made a joke about it. Telling Jj it ‘serves him right’ and that Jj clearly deserved one of the Riley’s to make it up to him.

“You don’t want me to marry you?” Jj asked as he placed his hand on Mels protruding belly.

“Jj we’ve barely dated. We kinda live together. Marriage is a huge step. I don’t even know if we’ll get on like that. I mean c’mon, the rest of our lives is a long time. You don’t have to saddle yourself with me.” Now it was Mels turn to look over the pond and avoid Jj’s eyes.

“I want to give it a go. Be a good dad. Be good to you. Like you deserve. I’m not gonna leave you high and dry just because we aren’t married.” Jj’s admission made Mel smile softly.

“And I’m not saddling myself with you. Like I said, I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten. If anything it’s a dream come true.” Jj hated how corny he sounded. Sweet talk was usually something he did to get laid but he meant what he was saying now; which was strange.

“I know. You’re a good man like that. Your Uncle John’s son after all. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Mel spoke sweetly.

She wasn’t sure she could believe Jj. If Mel was honest she didn’t think she could believe any man. But if there was a man who was trustworthy and wouldn’t leave it would be Jj; she was sure of that. Now she had to wait and see if it was possible, if a man like that existed or if it was a fairytale like she told herself. Mel just hoped deep down Jj wouldn’t let her down.

“So, do we continue letting them all think we were secretly dating?” Finally smiling Jj slid his finger between Mel’s and brought her hand to his lips leaving a ghost like kiss.

“I’m pretty sure your mum sees right through our lie. My mum wants to believe me but I know she doesn’t.” With a sigh Mel looked down at her belly and smoothed her hand over the fabric of her overalls.

“My mums a witch, Im surprised she didn’t know from the start. I swear she can read minds.” Jj watched as Mel was about to respond but cut in.

“Also you gotta stop calling my parents aunt and uncle. People’ll think we’re cousins.” This had been a point Jj harped on and finally Mel shook her head in agreeance.

“Fine, if it means that much to you.” With an eye roll Mel started to get up but was struggling, her belly made her off balance.

Jj rocketed to his feet and helped her up. There was this strange pang in his chest whenever Mel looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. No matter how hard he tried to shove those feelings down they were sprouting like weeds. Knowing she had been without him and keeping the pregnancy a secret for five months made him incredibly guilty.

“This might be crazy but I think we should move in. Properly. So I can take care of you. I don’t want to miss anything when-“ Jj sighed and placed his hand on Mel’s belly again.

“They come.” Jj’s emotions were betraying him as his lip wobbled.

Being a father was a huge step. Hell, he didn’t even know Mel was pregnant until last month. Jj had been deployed after their drunken night together and Mel wanted to tell him in person. So she waited until he was home and told him the news last month.

Jj was shell shocked. He completely disassociated for a day or two, unable to process the news. Mel gave him the space and accepted she would be a single mom. But Jj didn’t keep her waiting long. He showed up at her flat with flowers and a game plan on how things could work. He asked her to be his girlfriend and that they start to figure out what they wanted to do. Jj had been staying at Mel’s flat since then to take care of her because he would never skip out on his duties as a man. That, and he was drawn to her, always had been.

This was a family he was creating with Mel. Nothing would stop him from providing and keeping them safe. The fact he would be a father was what fueled him every day now. He was already in love with who lay in Mels womb and he would dedicate his life to protecting them; and now her.

“You gonna cry tough guy?” Mel sniffled seeing the man she was starting to fall for get emotional for the first time in front of her.

“That gonna scare you off?” With a chuckle Jj wiped his damp eyes with the heel of his hand and did his best to straighten back up.

“Not at all. And it’s not crazy.” Mel fiddled with the hem of Jj’s shirt as they slowly came closer to one another like magnets being pulled together. It started slow and then snapped together all at once.

In a second Jj’s hand had laced through the hair at the nape of Mel’s neck and he kissed her with much deeper intention than he ever had. It was no longer lust between them. There was this tightness that took over Jj’s chest. Seeing Mel pregnant could suck the air out of his lungs and had him stumbling over himself like an idiot.

Pulling apart the two caught their breath for a moment. Love drunk smiles spread across their faces as they began to make plans to solidify their future together.

“So, you moving into my place or do I have to subject myself to your bachelor pad?” Mel teased which earned a deep chuckle from the boy she hardly knew who had turned into the man that would father her children.

“We could look for one. Make it ours instead of yours or mine.” Taking Mel’s hand Jj started to lead them back up to the house.

“I like that idea. Rent or buy?” Mel asked a bit of skip to her step.

“Buy. I’ve saved up a good amount. We’re starting a family and kids deserve space to grow and run around outside.” Jj spoke as he looked around the grounds where he spent his own childhood.

Memories of camping out in the tree house with Evelyn came to mind. How he use to feed the chickens. The endless games of football he played with his family. Jj spent so much time out here playing with his little sisters and his friends. In his mind this is what a good childhood looked like.

“I like that. I grew up in flat after flat until mum and Simon bought a house.” Mel slipped her hand out of Jj’s and wrapped herself around his muscular arm.

It made Jj smile to have someone to call his. He’d been fighting commitment all his adult life and although a relationship had been thrust upon him, he liked it. He’d liked Mel since he first saw her as a young boy. It was an innocent crush that persisted through the years and he finally acted on as an adult.

“Hello love birds.” Dove teased watching Jj and Mel walk through the back door looking absolutely smitten with one another.

“Jesus.” Jj felt slapped by the word ‘love’ which became painfully obvious to everyone by the way he smoothly slipped his arm out of Mel’s grip.

“You’re emotionally stunted.” Mel whispered to Jj who started to blush at the blatant call out. She was smiling devilishly seeing him squirm.

“Where’s Unc- I mean John?” Mel corrected herself which had you and Dove sharing a look.

“Front porch with your dad. Need me to grab them?” Dove asked and Mel nodded. Dove squeezed Mel’s cheeks before walking off to grab the men.

“Sooo, your mum really doesn’t know much.” You smiled at Mel and she instantly felt caught out.

Jj stiffened knowing that look of yours all to well. This was the part where you admitted to catching him in a lie ages ago. He hated when you did this and let him go on like he was getting away with something.

“What do you mean?” Mel tried to play innocent but Jj simply put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head in defeat. It was crazy to him that being a grown man now didn’t stop him from feeling like a little kid around you from time to time.

“She knows. I don’t know how she knows but she just does.” Jj told Mel but it was clear by her expression she didn’t believe him.

“It started last summer at the party didn’t it?” You spoke with hushed words so you didn’t out the twos secrets because it truly was no ones business; not even yours.

They were grown and you had no right to tell them what they should or shouldn’t do. You also never asked because they deserved privacy and you didn’t want to pry, even if you had your suspicions. If Jj wanted you to know he would’ve told you.

“How-“ Mels eyes were bugging out of her head while Jj just looked defeated and took a seat at the counter.

“I told you, she’s a witch.” Jj aggressively pointed to his head referencing his comment about you being a mind reader.

“I’m not a witch, I’m just your mother.” You lightly laughed at your son.

He’d been calling you that since he was seven. Although he was a grown man with a child on the way you always saw that little goofy boy. The one who cried his eyes out when Evelyn climbed on to the roof. Who would pick you flowers from your garden and leave the rose bush hacked to bits. Your little boy who use to eat sand and bounced off the walls of this very home like a rubber ball. He was your first, the child who made you a mom.

Now look at him, the same age you were when you had him.

“What else do you know?” Mel asked sitting next to Jj.

“You two were not dating. I’m not even sure you’re dating now. You might be able to convince your fathers but me and your mum are smarter than that.” Giving Mel a nod she pursed her lips realizing she wasn’t as slick as she thought she was.

“Better be telling me you just proposed.” Simon was the first to emerge in the kitchen looking slightly less angry.

Dove and John were right behind and went to stand next to their respective partners. Mel rolled her eyes at Simon still being so upset and Jj tried to push down the fear Ghost left him with. It was irrational because being grown and fully capable Jj was convinced he could take Ghost in a fight. But having know the man from the time Jj was a child made Simon feel larger than life at times.

“We’re going to start looking at homes to buy. We aren’t ready for marriage but we plan on doing this together.” Jj spoke with confidence.

John’s hand squeezed yours beneath the counter. You both didn’t know how your son was going to handle this. You knew he was a good man and would do right by Mel but weren’t sure if that meant supporting her from a distance or being an active part in her life. This was an absolute relief compared to the uncertainty you had been left with last week when Jj and Mel told you over dinner.

“That what you want Mel? Have a baby unmarried?” Whatever John and Simon talked about on the front porch seemed to help settle Simon down if only somewhat. He seemed to be putting in the effort to listen more than judge.

“I’m not ready to get married. This is all new between me and Jj. And there’s something else.” Mel looked to Jj who gulped and then shook his head for her to continue.

You and John shared a look wondering what else there could possibly be. Finding out you were going to be grandparents a lot sooner than expected was enough of a shock. There couldn’t possibly be anything more surprising than that.

“It’s not ‘a’ baby. It’s twins.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating @mayflysdie

[nexysworld]

Summary: You accidentally call the hottest professor on campus Daddy. Total slip of the tongue—nerves, exhaustion, whatever! At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Unfortunately that same professor can't seem to let it go.

Pairing: Professor!Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, Power Imbalance, professor x student relationship, cream pie, Unprotected Sex, Daddy Kink, spanking, mild Dubcon, Wordcount: 3.6k

Note: This is dedicated to the wonderful @dollfacefantasy. <3

𝙰𝚜𝚔 𝙱𝚘𝚡 • 𝙰𝙾3 • 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 & 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎

The idle tapping of keys and scribbling of notes was all you could focus on. Midterms had been brutal, even for the easiest classes, leaving you an overstimulated, exhausted mess. All you wanted was to go home and sleep.

With drooping eyelids, you tried to make out the equations on the board, wondering—not for the first time—why the hell you thought taking an 8 a.m. class with Professor Satoru Gojo was even remotely a good idea. The man never shut up, spouting every thought that popped into his head, whether it related to the lesson or not. Worse, he was strict as hell when it came to grading and gave out more homework than any other professor. He’d mark you for any and every technical error he could. Semantics? He was the king of them.

And yet, he was the most popular professor at the university. Students practically lined up just for the chance to talk to him.

Why?

Because he was hot.

You weren’t any better—jumping on the opportunity to take his class the moment your advisor suggested it. And yeah, he really was as attractive as everyone said. You hadn’t noticed it much at first, too focused on your studies and making sure you passed.

But now? Now, in your half-conscious state, hand going numb as it propped up your head, you found yourself zoning in on him. He was all shaggy silver hair, the unruly spikes bouncing with his overly animated movements. His blue eyes—only half-hidden behind those thick black sunglasses—that glinted with mischief. His button-up was undone just enough to be distracting, sleeves shoved past his elbows, chalk tapping against the board at an almost inhuman speed. The white undershirt clung just right, and you knew there was a lean, gym physique hiding under there.

And that voice.

That perfect blend of hubris and sarcasm made even the dullest topics weirdly entertaining. The constant teasing, the smug witticisms—they should’ve been irritating. But instead, they just sounded way too good falling off his lips.

Your imagination drifted, slipping past the appropriate as your dreary eyes began to shut on their own. Your head floated off into a fantasy…

Until his voice cut through it like a lightning strike on a sunny day.

“Alright, who wants to solve this?” Gojo’s voice rang out, irritatingly cheerful.

Silence. No one was dumb enough to volunteer this early in the morning.

“How about you, sleepyhead?” he singsonged, striding across the room until he was uncomfortably close to your vicinity.

Your half-conscious brain barely registered that someone was speaking to you, dredging up an automated response.

“Uh…what?”

Satoru grinned. “Solve the equation, silly.” He tapped the chalk against the desk a few times before pointing behind him at the board.

Your brain—still half-in fantasyland and woefully unprepared to function under pressure—short-circuited. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out:

“Yes, Daddy.”

The silence was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears, counting the seconds as they passed.

Someone choked on their coffee. A few others barely stifled laughter.

Gojo froze. Then, slowly, a devilish grin stretched across his face, adjusting his sunglasses allowing them to slide down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh?” His voice dripped with amusement. “Did you just—? Well, that’s a first.”

Your soul left your body.

“I—I meant Professor! Professor Gojo!”

“Nah, nah, you can’t take it back now. You sounded pretty confident.”

You wanted to die. Right here, right now. But of course, Gojo wasn’t done. He propped his chin on his hand, leaning way too close.

“You know, I always had the feeling I was the favorite Professor, but this really confirms it.”

“Please, just let me do the question,” you begged, desperate for a change of subject. You could feel the eyes of the entire class burning into you, like a spotlight had opened from the heavens. You only wished you could manifest a cartoon hole in the floor instead.

“Alright, alright,” he finally relented, straightening up and turning back toward the board. “Let’s focus, everyone. But—” he cast a glance over his shoulder, smirking, “if anyone else feels the need to work through their daddy issues or nap in my class, just know you’ll be joining your friend here for office hours. Extra credit mandatory.”

His voice was uncharacteristically serious when he spoke those last words, making your stomach flip. Then, just as quickly, he slipped right back into his usual tone. “Or maybe I’ll just refer you to my buddy in the psych department.” He tapped the chalk against the board, already writing out a new equation, having given up on the first. “I hear he loves a good case study.”

Laughter erupted.

You buried your face in your hands.

Being assigned to Gojo’s office hours as a punishment for sleeping and then subsequently calling him Daddy? That had to be illegal. Or at least against some ethical code. Then again, you were pretty sure they didn’t cover “verbal humiliation and unintentional kinks” in the student handbook, but here you were anyway, making the walk of shame to his office.

Anxiety had been twisting you apart since the incident, not giving you the chance to focus on anything the rest of the day beyond the horrible humiliation you’d be suffering the rest of your college life. The idea of now being in a confined space with the very same professor had you nauseous. 

All you could do was hope—beg, pray, manifest—that he’d be professional. Maybe hand you some extracurricular worksheet or a math problem set and let you go in peace.

“Right on time,” Gojo said, leaning forward on his desk. His voice dripped with amusement, and the smile stretching across his face was so smug it bordered on evil. “I admire punctuality.”

You stifled a groan and dropped into the farthest chair across from him without looking at him. “Can we just get this over with?”

“Straight to business?” he clicked his tongue. “Cold. I thought we had something special,” he teased. “I can respect it though.”  he slid a blank paper across the table along with a shitty yellow pencil—the cheap kind you’d get from the dollar store. You stared at it, before finally meeting his gaze. 

“You going to make me write lines or something?”

“Not quite. I want you to write an essay on your feelings.”

“…you’re a math teacher.”

“Professor,” he corrected. “Let’s use the right titles. We wouldn’t want any casual slip-ups like earlier.”

“Ok well…I can do this at home. Can’t I just turn it in to you tomorrow?”

“Nice try,” he said, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the desk. “But this is a punishment. Office hours are mandatory when you call your professor Daddy mid-lecture and then pass out like we’re in daycare.” 

His words dredged up some existential dread at the memory. “It was a slip! I was half-asleep…”

“Mmhm.” He was chuckling now. “It’s fine. I’m flattered, really. Just didn’t expect math to bring out someone’s kinky awakening. But that’s what college is for, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to quip something back at him, but the words caught in your throat. When you finally met his gaze, unhidden by the sunglasses he normally wore—you saw it. It was uncanny, unlocking some mental paranoia, like he already had your next 10 moves planned. 

“Will you quit staring? It’s like you’re enjoying my humiliation. Just…let me write the essay in peace.” Normally you’d never have the nerve to be so bold with authority, but given your slip up early and the fact your humiliation couldn’t get any worse, it had you emboldened. You were white knuckling the pencil, fairly sure it would snap under your grip any moment. 

“You’re not exactly making it easy not to,” he replied, tilting his head. “You’re flustered, it’s cute. Ah whoops, guess I’m not supposed to say that, am I?”

“I’m mortified, actually.” 

“Even cuter.”

His words had your whole face flushed, the feverish embarrassment burning down to your shoulders. It throws you off kilter completely. Was he flirting with you? No way, it had to just be some sick way for him to mock you. The essay felt like an insurmountable task, the blank paper mocking you as well daring you to put something on the page. 

You started scribbling something onto the paper, trying to keep your focus away from him—away from the tension in the air. But every time your pencil moved, you could feel his eyes on you. Watching. You made a mental note to report him after this.

“What kind of essay even is this?” you asked, unable to handle the silence. “Feelings? About what?”

“About me, obviously,” he said without missing a beat. “Or how about the shame and complicated emotions tied up in calling your professor ‘Daddy’ in front of the entire 8AM lecture hall. Plenty of material there.”

“That’s—” you started, but couldn’t even finish the sentence without dying a little inside. “Why do you keep having to bring it up? It’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny,” Gojo said. “I mean, I’ve had students call me all sorts of things—sensei, sir, even boss once, which was weird—but never that.” His voice dipped lower. “Never daddy.”

The pencil lead snapped under the pressure of your hand, digging a hole into the paper and leaving a mark on the wood beneath. 

He whistled, clearly amused. “Wow, strong grip. You always this tense, or is it just me?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late. I’m already blushing.”

Not wanting to feed into whatever the hell was happening, you decided it was in your best interest to not reply. Instead, you sharpened the pencil and focused again on the essay scribbling nonsense onto the page to at least look productive. At the very least you hoped he would just get bored enough to let you go without reading it. He could yell at you tomorrow for bullshitting, or better yet, you both could have a chat in the Dean’s office. 

Unfortunately, Satoru Gojo didn’t like being ignored. 

“I bet,” he started, spinning a pen between his fingers, his expensive looking wristwatch jangling with the movement, “if I asked you to say it again, you’d do it.”

Your eyes shot up to him, but he didn’t give you the chance to reply as he continued. “It’s probably just sitting right there on the tip of your tongue. Ready to slip out again, given the chance.” 

“Why are you doing this? Is this how you treat all your students?”

“Nope,” he replied lazily. “Just the ones who blush so pretty when I tease them.” 

You gawked at him, unable to form a single cohesive thought. You should have walked out after telling him off. Reported him the second your foot hit the doorway. Instead, you didn’t move, held in place by an invisible force. 

He took that opportunity to close the distance between you by leaning over the desk, invading your personal space. Your senses processed the too-rich cologne and the mishmashed hues of white and blue that made up his form. His thumb ran over your bottom lip. “You want me to stop?”

“I uhmm…uh,” you responded, barely coherent.

“Not much of an answer. Really gotta work on those listening skills, sweetheart. Tell ya what, let’s make it easier.” He brushed his nose against your jaw, making you swallow air. “If you don’t want this, say ‘Professor.’ Loud and clear and I’ll stop. But if you do…I wanna hear you call me Daddy again.”

You couldn’t remember what it was like to speak, electricity ran through every nerve, dancing beneath your skin. Maybe a more sober version of yourself would have been smart enough to reject him. But he was so close and so tempting. 

“…Daddy,” you whispered, so quiet not even a fly on the wall would’ve heard the word. 

“Good girl.” 

The praise made you giddy, like a pampered puppy. In a second his lips were connected to yours. They were warm, far softer than expected and a little sticky from the chapstick he always wore. 

He cradled your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as he leaned further over the desk. The forgotten essay paper slipping off the desk and falling to the floor, the pencil clattering along with it. Your fingers gripped the chair arms like a lifeline, keeping you grounded.

He pulled back just enough to let you breathe. If he was as affected as you were, it didn’t show. His lips brushed against yours again as he spoke. “Still with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, dazed, lips tingling. You wondered if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was in the silence of his office. 

He chuckled, low and evil. “Then be a good girl again and go lock the door.” 

Without hesitation you slipped out of the chair and despite your wobbly legs, managed to make your way over, pulling the shade over the window and clicking the press-on lock. When you turned around he was back in his chair, patting the desk in front of him. “Hop up.” 

The wood was too hard and uncomfortable against your thighs, but you ignored it—far too focused on the man sitting beneath you. His slacks were tenting with his own arousal, spiky locks of snow wilder than usual. 

His hands found your hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of your bottoms. “You look nervous. Having second thoughts?”

You shook your head quickly—too quickly.

“Words, sweetheart,” he chided. 

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“You’re fine what?” He pressed, white brow raised. 

“I’m fine, Daddy,” you replied, the word making you burn with embarrassment all over again. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, letting his fingers tug the fabric down. You lifted your hips and kicked off your shoes to help him with his task. The frigid air of the office felt strange against your bareness, intensifying the growing need between your legs. 

“Now, just so we’re clear,” he began. “This is still punishment...so rude of you to fall asleep in my class, after I work hard to keep it interesting.” Lithe fingers found their way between your legs and before you could question what he meant, he gave a light slap to your exposed pussy. 

You gasped, more in surprise than pain, your thighs instinctively pressing together. He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction as his hand pressed against your thigh to spread them again. He stood so he could catch your lips in another kiss, two fingers dragging through your folds, stopping only to rub soft circles around your clit. 

“Bend over for me,” he commanded, pulling back. He helped you slide off the desk, letting you bend over the oakwood, leaving your lower half spread and exposed to him. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, or how good that agonizing sense of humiliation felt.  He stood behind you, silent for a moment—long enough for the anticipation to start chewing at your nerves.

“Look at you,” he spoke, voice laced with amusement. “Didn’t even hesitate to listen.”

You couldn’t see him, but you heard the sound of his chair before feeling his warm breath on your most sensitive lips. 

“Beautiful even down here,” he whistled again. You throbbed with aroused anticipation. His hand came down against your bare bottom, the sound of skin striking skin echoed in the small room before the blooming sting set in. It wasn’t unbearable, in fact, you were surprised that you liked the way it felt. Then his hand came down again, striking your other cheek, making you yelp. 

“I’m not hearing any apologies,” he teased, as he pressed a kiss to your reddened skin before spanking you again. 

“A-ah, I’m sorry f-for falling asleep,” you squeaked. 

“Mmm I think that apology is missing something,” he added, marveling at the handprints forming against your skin. 

“‘M sorry D-daddy.”

“That’s better.” He gave you one last slap, lighter than the others. “So wet already too, fuck.” He groaned, delving in and dragging his tongue against your clit, swirling the tip around it. Your brain went blank—only able to focus on the heat he was pulling from your core with the pink muscle.  The sounds were wet and sloppy. He ate you out shamelessly, barely taking a break to even breathe. 

His hands gripped your plush cheeks, spreading them to get more leverage. 

Your toes curled, moaning as you resisted the urge to grind back against his face—somehow still trying to keep some level of self-preservation. Even still, you couldn’t remember if anyone had ever been this good, unraveling you so fast it gave you whiplash. 

Two fingers pumped inside of you, pressing against that inner most sensitive spot. Between that and his mouth sucking your clit, you came undone, legs kicking out as spots peppered your vision. 

“D-daddy, daddy n-no more,” you whined as he continued to tease you. 

He pulled away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. By the sound of his own panting, it was clear he was now equally as worked up. The metal of his belt clanked behind you and he groaned. 

“Damn, you’re seriously hot.” You heard drawers opening and closing behind you. “You on the pill, sweetheart? ‘Cause I don’t think I’ve got any condoms on me—oops.”

“Yes,” you replied, pushing yourself up. He spun you to face him, pulling you down into his lap. His button up had been discarded, leaving only the white undershirt. By his arms alone you could tell you had been right in assuming he was secretly fit, and curiously you wanted to know what else was underneath. 

His cock was free, pressing against his clothed stomach—pale with an angrily flushed tip, perfectly sized—it made your mouth water with want. 

Daringly, your hand came up to the cotton fabric and tugged on it. He got the hint, slipping it over his head and tossing it to the floor. He was all lean muscle and angles. 

“Your turn,” he grinned, fingers hooking into your top. “Don’t leave me all exposed and bashful now.”

You lifted your arms, letting him slide your shirt off. He managed to catch your bra with it, both items tossed somewhere in the small office room. His inhumanly blue eyes were fixated on your chest, hands coming to massage them between his hands. You squirmed in his lap, earning a moan in return. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked plainly, and the sinfulness of the words had you worked up again. 

“Yes, please.”

“Ask me properly.”

“Please Daddy, I want you to fuck me.” 

In a swift motion he had you flat against the desk again, his shaft rubbing through your wet folds a few times before sliding in. The stretch was delicious, making you feel full instantly. Your arms wrapped around him, legs around his waist, clinging to him as he rocked his hips into you. Every thrust was quick and rough but tantalizing. His mouth found yours as you devolved into a mess of sloppy kisses as his hips continued to meet the skin of your ass and thighs. 

“Feels so good Daddy,” you moaned, head falling back. “So big…” 

“Shit, you take it so well,” he praised. “Good…fucking…girl…” he groaned, changing the pace. His thrusts were faster but more shallow, no longer pulling all the way out each time—preferring to stay buried in you. When his movements lost their rhythm, he came with a shudder, sucking the skin on your collar bone, forming a purple mark. 

He pulled back when he was done, catching his own breath—a sight to behold, panting above you, white bits of hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes were lidded, shadowed by thick white lashes. You wondered how many people had been lucky enough to see this. 

Without thinking, you pulled him back down into a kiss. He obliged your desires, returning the affection, until there was a knock at the door. 

“Satoru, are you still here this late? If so—” the sound of professor Geto’s voice rang through the door freezing you beneath the older man. 

As if sensing your panic, Gojo laughed quietly and held a finger up to his lips before motioning for you to get dressed. 

“Suguru, hey, still here. Guess I must’ve passed out at my desk. Hold up, give me a sec,” he replied before hastily zipping his pants, and feeling around the floor for his own shirt. 

“Wait 5 minutes, once I’m out the door. Then you can sneak out past me,” he said, quickly buttoning his wrinkled shirt and batting his hair. 

You nodded, half-dressed, working to pull your top back on.

Gojo made his way to the door, slipping out as he greeted his fellow professor. Before the two of them walked off, you swore you heard Geto mention something about an “interesting choice of nap partner, Satoru.” Not willing to stick around and deal with the consequences, you followed his instructions—waiting five minutes until the voices faded, then quickly gathering your things and slipping down the hall.

Your phone buzzed, an unknown number flashing on the screen. You opened the message once outside:

‘Sorry for cutting it short, but don’t worry about Suguru. He’s not about to rat me out. Just… don’t fall asleep again unless you’re begging for Daddy to give you round two. 😉’

You groaned at the text but found yourself already typing a reply. You weren’t sure how far you wanted to take this, but you definitely weren’t planning on letting it end now.

[backwzzds]

Toji getting out jail and showing us some appreciation 🙈🙈

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ daddy’s home, toji fushiguro (nsfw)

omg bc prison bf!toji would be something interesting.

the story would be that before prison, toji was the ORIGINAL scammer. all these mfs his sons forreal. of course with being a hired professional hitman, it came with its financial perks, all of which he’d used to spoil his pretty little princess.

you lived comfortably well. you’d known toji since he was just a bum scrounging for any type of work, so you actually got to see the come up frfr. though you’ve always loved him from the start (even when he was broke), he was nearly 10 years older than you. just in your early twenties, you always told him—you did not deserve any type of struggle love. and a struggle life toji lived indeed. you assured him that if he was really about you the way he always swore he was—he’d do whatever he could to support for you.

and support for you he did!

it wasn’t anything about being a gold digger—you just had standards. toji chased after you for years and you loved it—but you knew you deserved better when he couldn’t even take care of himself. by the graces of whoever allowed him to stumble upon a secret job that could land him 1 mil cash—500 upfront as a deposit and the rest later—toji was yours the moment he proved to you he could take care of you indefinitely.

ass ironic as this sounds, he was actually arrested on false charges. the nature of the charges were true on everything—but the actual person they were accusing him of executing and murdering, he simply did not do. the courts didn’t care though, they just needed someone to hang for it and make an example out of them. that led to toji being sentenced to life in prison.

but thanks to his crooked ass lawyer, the piece of shit was out in 6 years.

you nervously tapped your acrylic nails on the pink wrap of your car as you leaned against the passenger side of the door. it seemed as if today was release day for a few other prisoners, seeing as a group of men walked out with plastic bags, all while staring you down. your arms remained crossed over your fat tits barely being able to breathe in the baby tee you wore to accompany your long flowy skirt as you awaited for your own man to re-enter the world again.

the minute another person leaves the building, your eyes meet with the familiar man’s. it was almost as if your energy was instantly drawn to his, because you immediately recognized him off the bat. toji is blown away by your beauty. you were always fine, but damn, watching you outside of a bulletproof plexi glass was top tier when he finally got to see your fuller ass and pudgy stomach in person again.

the second he’s in your vicinity again, instead of doing the normal thing like hugging him—you slapped the shit out of him.

“ow’!” toji groans. “fuck was that for?!” the old man rubs the spot you hit him in, giving you a fearful look. toji didn’t fear anyone or anything, but you had to be at the top of that list, especially when you were upset.

you give him a knowing look with your hands on your hips. toji rolls his eyes and grips your waist, “tch, i told ya i didn’t do that shit!” he groaned, referencing the one crime he was actually innocent for. “but with all the trouble that dead bastard put me through, wish it was me.”

you mirror his previous actions and do a double take in his physique. you weren’t the only one who got finer. toji’s waist got smaller—probably from starving himself like you told the fucker not to—but his build was more muscular, yet lean. he had an unimaginable number of new tattoos hidden under his normal clothes, and you couldn’t even think about what more laid hidden beneath his thick jeans.

toji fully notices your gawking eyes and gives you a cocky smirk with the scar on his lip fully rising. “miss me mama?” a smile can’t help but form on your own lips as you embrace him in a tight hug. not feeling the love enough, toji wraps his arms underneath you, fully lifting you from the ground. with your legs now around his waist, you were finally face to face with the man of your life.

toji leans into you and pecks your lip ever so lightly. with the sun in his view, he still got the best look of just how perfect you really were. “i missed ya,” he says so low, you barely catch it. “missed ya so much. went crazy dozens of times from you not being with me.”

it was strange for toji to be so vulnerable. but his time under made him realize just how ungrateful he really was for all the great things in his life. how ungrateful he really was for you. he vowed that when he did get out—if ever—he wouldn’t waste a minute without reminding you how he felt about his little girl.

with a proud smile on your face, you run your manicured thumb over the callous of his aging skin. you kiss the small scars there and then his lips. snuggling your head in his neck, you whisper, “let’s go home daddy.”

and that was how you ended up here, face down and ass up into your own mattress.

“you gonna tell daddy you missed him yet?” toji grunted while thrusting in and out of you. the ripples of your fat ass had him in a trance. “been almost seven years since i been in this pretty pussy’a yours. think i deserve at least that, baby.”

you whine into your pillow, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth. you wanted to play stubborn; let toji know that if he ever went to jail for something so stupid again, he wasn’t gonna see you or your pussy he loved so much.

your silence results in a hard slap to your ass. “ahh!” you yelp out, leaning forward into your white duvet. with another harsh smack and then the smooth rubbing of his large hand, toji smirked at the reddening imprint forming on the terrain of your pretty brown ass. “this ain’t about you!” you can’t help but seethe out to his previous statement. your voice is muffled by the fluff of your pillow, “i suffered these last seven years. not you.”

toji slows in his movements. you were so right. he knew how much you longed for him. your big hunky man that walked the streets with you 24/7 was no longer by your side to protect you like he usually did. he left you open. he left you vulnerable. though he’s had his people, geto and gojo watching over you, it wasn’t enough, you constantly slept in fear. you walked in fear. you lived in fear.

you didn’t know why, but suddenly all the emotion you felt in the past seven years came flooding to you. tears flowed from your eyes and you were crying. but from the pulsing grip your pussy had around his dick, toji knew you wanted more.

“look at me,” toji’s voice is muffled. when you made no effort to move, too ashamed to rven be crying at a time like this, toji pulls out of you and softly grabs you by the hips, turning you over so that your back was no against the mattress and you were facing him.

swiftly, the older man slides back into you, but this time moves inside you with more care. toji’s body is so close to yours, your hard nipples are brushing against his own with every thrust he makes.

“‘m sorry,” toji whispers with every rut into you. “daddy’s so sorry baby. didn’t mean to abandon you the way i did.” you could hear the genuineness in his tone as he stops fucking you, but begins to make love to you. “can’t imagine how scared you must’a been these past few years. haven’t been taking care of you the way i promised all those years ago.”

more tears flow from your eyes as toji brings you to your building orgasm slowly. “know you can’t forgive me for being so stupid ‘n careless now. ‘s gonna take some time. i know that. but jus’ lemme in again mama. let daddy back into your heart ‘n i promise i’ll take acre of you again.”

“daddy,” you sob. “‘m close,” is the only words that could leave your mouth. “don’t leave me, please. ‘m so close.” you were begging to cum, but deep down toji knew you were also begging him to stay.

toji brings his hand down to your pretty pussy and rubs at your clit as his lips engulf in yours. with just a few touches, you were creaming over his fingers and crying into his mouth.

“never gonna leave you again, mama. daddy’s home now.”

[possessedmen]

In the quiet confines of my dimly lit apartment, I stood before the mirror, my reflection a distorted echo of the man I had become. The image staring back at me was not my own but that of Vaughn, my coworker, whose physique and life I had coveted with a burning envy.

The opportunity to enact my plan came unexpectedly one Friday evening after work. Vaughn was in the office gym, his usual post-work routine of lifting weights and showcasing his physique. I had prepared the serum in a small syringe hidden in my gym bag. As he finished his set and was stretching, I approached him with a friendly smile, holding a protein shake in one hand.

"Hey Vaughn, I made this new protein shake recipe. Want to try it out? I think you'll love the results," I offered, feigning camaraderie. He looked at me, a bit surprised but intrigued, and nodded. As he took the shake from my hand, I quickly moved behind him, pretending to adjust the weights. In one swift motion, I plunged the needle into the side of his neck, the serum entering his bloodstream before he could react.

Vaughn's eyes widened in shock, his hand reaching for his neck, but it was too late. The serum worked fast, his body beginning to tremble as I stepped back, watching the process unfold. "Sorry, Vaughn," I whispered, "but I need this more than you do."

His body started to deflate, the muscles losing their definition as if the air was being let out of a balloon. His skin sagged, becoming loose and pliable, his once proud physique collapsing in on itself. Within minutes, what stood before me was not the muscular, confident Vaughn, but a hollow shell of his former self, his skin now a suit ready to be worn.

With a mixture of awe and excitement, I approached the deflated form. Carefully, I began the process of donning his skin. I started with his feet, sliding my own into the empty space, feeling the warmth of his skin enveloping mine. I worked my way up, pulling the skin over my legs, feeling the strength of his muscles now mine as I adjusted them to fit perfectly. His torso was next, the sensation of his abs and chest wrapping around me was surreal, a perfect fit as if tailored for me.

As I reached his face, I paused, looking into the empty eyes of what was once Vaughn. "I had no idea what package you were hiding under those pants." I said to the empty shell, a smirk playing on my lips. I pulled the skin over my head, adjusting it around my features until I was looking through his eyes, feeling his beard on my chin.

Finally, I stood fully transformed, adjusting to the new muscles, the new face. "But now, it's mine. All of it. Your strength, your charm, and yes, even this body," I continued, speaking to my reflection as if he could hear me.

I ran my hands down the toned abs, feeling the power that now belonged to me. The thought of what I could do with this new identity was intoxicating. "Imagine the possibilities," I mused, my voice still adjusting to the deeper timbre of Vaughn's. "An account on TikTok? Nah, too mainstream. Instagram? Overdone. But an account on... Onlyfans?" A wicked grin spread across my stolen face.

The idea thrilled me. Vaughn had a following, built from his gym posts, his lifestyle shots, always tastefully done, always leaving people wanting more. But now, I could take it further, push the boundaries, explore the depths of this new persona. I'd document the journey, the transformation, the life I had stolen.

I felt a rush of excitement as I thought about the content I could create, the allure of this new skin I wore. "You would've never thought about doing this, Vaughn," I said, almost apologetically to the reflection. "But I will. I'll make this life something extraordinary, something that will make them all jealous."

In my new voice, with my new body, I began to plan. The mirror reflected my ambition, my new identity, and the life I was about to live. Vaughn was gone, and in his place stood someone new, someone ready to take the world by storm, one subscriber at a time.

And as I stepped away from the mirror, I felt no remorse, only anticipation for what was to come. "Welcome to your new life, Vaughn," I whispered, knowing full well that it was now mine.

[clairdelunelove]

itadori "you're not heavy at all" yuuji

now it’s no secret that this man is incredibly strong. even though his baggy clothes do well to mask his physique, it’s still apparent that he’s fit and toned. and, miraculously,  when the hoodie comes off you’re stuck gaping at the sinews in his biceps. just layers of muscle that’s typically hidden underneath the thickness of his clothes and it’s mind whirring. dizzying. he’s lean– boasting a body fat percentage that’s in the single digits. even without cursed energy, he’s extremely athletic and rivals his most formidable opponents. it’s literally revealed in the first episodes that he can throw a lead ball with enough force to bend a soccer goal post. then he further proves the point by tossing a car over his shoulder in the latest screening. he’s gifted with superhuman strength. so imagine his disbelief when he hears you sheepishly mutter, “I’m too heavy,” when the shoes you’re wearing are uncomfortable and– like the gentleman he is– offers to support you the rest of the way. he genuinely thinks you’re joking at first. playing a prank (a rather unfortunate one) just to make him crack a smile at the exaggeration and easily retort. his brows furrow as he frowns. “heavy? you’re kidding, right?” he huffs, incredulity written on his sharp features and a sound that borders a snort leaves his lips, "you're not heavy at all." but when he glances over at you, awkwardly shifting on your feet, he realizes that you’re serious. and immediately his heart drops. like someone’s ripped it out of his chest and thrown it onto the pavement. yuuji racks his mind for the person that could’ve plagued your self-esteem: a friend? a past lover? what fool would open their mouth and have the audacity to state that? he’ll ruminate about it later– fix what he can now. and gosh, yuuji is perfect at smoothing bandaids over your insecurities. “okay,” he drags a heavy hand down his face and mumbles, “okay. since you wanna listen to the crap that other people say.” before you can react, the blushy haired male has one arm underneath your legs and the other supporting your back. he sweeps you off your feet. literally. it’s a single, fluid motion that shocks you to the point where you’re barely registering his next half-hearted scold, “which isn’t true, by the way!” you’re conscious of the way your legs are dangling in the air and your arms are hurriedly thrown around yuuji. “yuu!” you yelp but he’s laughing at the breathy pitch of your voice. and he’s already striding past crowds of people with you in his arms. he doesn’t break a sweat or even start to breathe heavily because, let’s face it, yuuji’s a strong guy. this is nothing to him; it’s barely a warmup. and it would’ve been swoon-worthy if it wasn’t for the incessant chastising within you. “I’m too heavy for you to carry,” you repeat but he pointedly stares straight ahead. lets his fingers press against your soft skin and is grounded with the weight of you in his arms. and it’s not like he’s brushing off your insecurities. no, yuuji’s listening to them with unconditional compassion. he presses you closer to him so you’re enveloped in his warmth and immediately you recognize the steady beating of his heart. and the next time he speaks, his voice has softened considerably, “why’re talking 'bout my beautiful girl like that?” and while you’re gently cradled in yuuji’s arms, you realize he means you. 

[deansbeer]

full of surprises ・ VHACKER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ pinned library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

SYNOPSIS. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

WARNING(S). fluff | smut | fem!reader | explicit language | thigh riding | fingering | breeding kink.

KARI NOTES. while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars.

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his car by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

"any luck, babe?" you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right."

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

"mind if i take a look?" you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. "i had no idea you knew about cars, babe," disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

"my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on." vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

"ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up." you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

"damn baby, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things." he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

"flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket wrench so i can get this fixed," you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. "alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick." he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. "fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward."

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. "i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted," he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. "mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now..." twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

"fuck, i need you so bad. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly." he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

"slow down, baby, 'm not going anywhere," he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

"so perfect, and all mine." his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

"fuck vinnie!" you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your core. "you take my fingers so well baby. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?"

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. "gonna make you feel so good, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?"

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. "please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm all yours baby." his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

"fuck you look gorgeous taking my cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that, baby? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?"

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered 'i love you's' while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

"you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot." he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

[mannequinreligi0n]

NSFW ALPHABET: VERGIL

not me coming back to post anything but the third chapter of my priest vergil fic …. anyways, have this in the meantime while i wrestle with writer’s block.

i’d love to do this for dante and possibly whomever else, if there’s any want for it - my inbox is open!

obv nsfw warning for below, tried to keep it gender neutral as well - enjoy!

xoxo, obscura

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The eternal gentleman, Vergil is doting and attentive - making sure you’re satisfied, cleaned, and content after intimacy. He’ll always clean you before himself, offering water, back rubs, and maybe even a nice bath to get you feeling right again. If it’s in bed, cuddles are mandatory - Vergil sees sex as a bonding activity, and holding you in his arms or lying on your chest is necessary to connect with one another.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Vergil has spent years training to get the perfect physique for fighting. He takes great pride in how he looks, and is not shy about it - but a favorite thing about him? I don’t think Vergil has given it much thought.

It’s a different story with his partner. I will gladly die on the hill that Vergil is an ass man. Vergil loves to grab it, smack it, bite it - just overall handsy. Speaking of, he’s got a thing for hands. He will worship his partner’s hands, seeing them as divine devices capable of such grace and care.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Despite Vergil’s disdain for firearms, this man’s a shooter. He’s unfortunately hit an eye or two during oral with some straggling ropes, and he always feels bad but can’t help it.

He has a preference for coming inside (he will demand it most times, unless you’re adamant for something else). Though, he does appreciate the occasional facial. Something about marking his territory…

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Something tells me that Vergil picks up photography as a hobby when he returns back from hell. It’s harmless, mostly, but it’s strayed into the bedroom and he’s assembling his own photo diary of your sexual rendezvouses. On each page is detailed entries of what happened, what he found interesting, what made you tick, all alongside a photo of you folded like a pretzel or sitting pretty in a new set he bought you. ‘It’s for science’, he’ll say when you find it hidden under some other books on his desk.

I also think Vergil genuinely would love exploring being a sub to some extent. The man’s whole life has been a quest for power and control. But if he found someone he trusted enough, I think he would be willing to relinquish that control for a little bit and be at the whims of someone else. Call him a good boy? Tell him how good he’s making you feel? He’s melting like soft-serve in summer.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Vergil has experience, but it’s limited. The man is not a dog like others are quick to assume due to Nero’s conception, but he did experiment a little in his 20s.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lotus, standing dragon, and ol’ reliable: missionary

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Vergil is a perfectionist at heart and sex isn’t an exception. It’s very few and between that you’ll have him acting silly during such an intimate act. I think the only time he’d truly be more loose and laughing is if he was inebriated in some way.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well groomed, may let it grow in if he’s been with someone for a long time due to comfortability. I don’t think he cares how his partner grooms themselves, as long as they are cleanly - to each their own.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex is about devotion to Vergil. He takes it seriously and ensures his partner feels absolutely valued and worshiped. If time permits, Vergil is taking the time to set the scene. You’ll come home to freshly washed bedsheets, lit candles, and dinner already made and prepared for serving. It’s all-encompassing for him, more about the bond between you two than the result.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I feel like he edges when he’s frustrated. Just to punish himself for whatever it is that is bothering him. However, I don’t think he masturbates often, as he finds it a waste of energy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bdsm is a given, duh. A rope junkie - loves to tie you down in impossible positions, or to be tied up himself, forcing himself to put his trust in you. Body worship, breeding, temperature play, pet play. Handcuffs, gags, cameras, leashes. The voices are also telling me he’s into blood play……much to think about. But ONLY on him - he’s not too keen on actually hurting you outside of hickeys and bruises.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, absolutely. Again, sex is not trivial to him. If not in bed, definitely in the bath. However, even the devil in him gets the best of his control sometimes and he’ll squeeze a quickie in the back of the car or the bathroom of a bar.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you do mundane tasks drives Vergil up the wall. He’ll stand there and watch you bend over the washing machine, doing paperwork, fixing your hair, and it’ll be more of a turn on than any lewd act. Something about seeing you so blissfully unaware of your natural state is too much for him. Bonus points if you’re doing housework and disheveled - clothes a mess, sweat on your brow. He’s practically foaming at the mouth.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Carelessness in any regard is a huge no for him, whether it’s out of ignorance or stubbornness. He’s a proud man and doesn’t tolerate blatant disrespect.

I mentioned it briefly above, but hurting you seriously is off the table. Safety is the utmost priority when it comes to you for him - he will not jeopardize that in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

MUUUUUUNCH. He is a munch, I swear it. It’s mostly out of greed, if we’re being honest. He loves to watch you squirm, see how many times he can make you come alone from his mouth before he dares to fuck you. Loves face-sitting, he sees it as a challenge. Will also view oral as a form of body worship - he will take his damn time.

Vergil will never admit it, but he also loves to be on the receiving end. Loves to see you on your knees, taking him to the hilt and feeling you gulp around him. Careful, though! He’s a head-pusher.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Varies on the mood. If it’s more of a loving, sensual session, he will drag it out for as long as he feels necessary unless you tap out or flip him over out of impatience. Rougher, heated goes are another story. His movements will be unforgiving and staccato, ramming into your slick with purpose and ferocity.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mentioned above. It’s only really if he physically can’t get you home quick enough. Or if you have an argument. He loves a good post-fight fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Vergil is always looking for ways to push his own boundaries. He’s spent years honing his strengths and learning his every weakness - of course he’s gonna want to put them to the test. Whether that’s trying something new or getting a more risqué.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Demon genes go crazy. I think he could easily go back to back a few rounds before calling it quits. Any less would more so be for the wellbeing of his partner. I think Vergil purposely tries to last as long as physically possible to push himself, but sometimes he gets a little too lost in how soft your skin feels or how tightly your squeezing around him to hold back any longer.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vergil wouldn’t be too knowledgeable about toys, but if he had a partner that was, he would be open to exploration. (Honey, go get the strap)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS A BRATTTT (365 party girl)! Whether it’s orgasm denial or straight up refusal to even touch you, he’s playing the long game.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and growls, for sureeeee. It’s more animalistic than anything. Not a talker, really, as he gets near silent when he’s in the zone, but he’ll make sure to pepper in some praise or instruction here and there so you stay present.

When Vergil is on the receiving end/subbing, it’s a different story. WHINY. So, so whiny and blubbers out nonsense. Whimpers and moans so unlike the stoic warrior, you have to do a double-take to even be sure the sounds are coming from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Oral fixation.

Also secretly a big fan of pet names: darling, sweet, love, little one/bird, sweetheart.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Vergil is a big man. 6’5, to be exact. Add devil genes in the mix and the man’s packin’. I don’t think it’s anything ridiculous, but I’m betting on a good 8 when hard. Uncut with a slight left curve. Definitely nothing to be shy about.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Vergil spent years in solitude - I think he can handle a lot of pining. He’s patient and panther-esque, ever waiting for the right time to strike. That being said, if you and him were long-term, I think he’d make it a point to have sex integrated into your regular routine, to keep your relationship and minds secure. Health is wealth, after all.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He has a hard time sleeping in general, but it’s a little easier when you’re tucked in his side, bare and satisfied. He’d probably lie awake for a while, even after you dozed off, just to hold you close and remind himself you’re really there and he’s safe from harm.

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ bbf!rafe decides to lend you a helping hand relieving the stress of college.

warnings — 18+ MDNI. perv!rafe, brother's best friend trope (reader is topper's sibling), manipulative tactics for sex, fingering + naive/inexperienced reader.

cherie's note — best friend's brother!rafe is so yummy i had to try writing for him

the creak of the old hardwood floors were barely audible as the tall blond wandered the dimly lit hallways of your home, rubbing the exhaustion out of his eyes. he wasn't sure why he was awake — maybe the lingering effects of the party earlier, or the exhausting heatwave humidity that flooded the outerbanks.

he passed by a door, half-open. he had been here hundreds of times, his best friend topper, your brother, inviting him over to your home since before the pair were in middle school. he knew whose door it was before he even had to look.

yours.

leaning against the doorframe, he peered in, careful not to make a sound. you were lying on your stomach, completely focused and unaware of who creeped through the cracks, your laptop casting a faint blue light over your features. headphones in, brow furrowed, fingers lazily twirling a pen between them.

rafe smirked. of course, you were still up.

you were such a good girl. rafe knew this better than anybody — taking any chance he could to just watch as you stayed up for hours studying. unlike your brother, you hardly went out to the parties, or the bonfires — more concerned with the previous lecture or some stupid upcoming test.

for a second, he considered just watching — just like every other time. but the temptation was too strong. he rapped his knuckles lightly against the oak door of your bedroom.

"you always stay up this late?" his voice was low, rough from sleep.

your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before you pulled out an earbud. "jesus, rafe." you huffed, setting your pen down. "what are you doing?"

he shrugged, testing the waters by taking another step closer, leaning against the doorframe. "couldn't sleep." his gaze flickered over your screen before settling back on you.

the loose pajama shorts tickled against the soft skin of your plump thighs, leg hoisted up just enough for rafe to see that lacey pair of panties hidden below. it was much more than your brother's best friend should ever see, but that was the last thing on your mind as your head pounded from all the homework. his blue eyes filled with exhaustion and curiosity at your state, taking another step onto the fuzzy carpet rug of your room.

"i'm uh-" you stutter, heart thundering against your chest at the advance, "i've been studying, s'why i'm still awake."

rafe quirked an eyebrow, finger dancing along your dresser — littered with trinkets of all sorts. his eyes linger on one item in particular, familiar to him as he remembers the time he had stolen a cheap hand carving at the flea market and gifted it to you. he could still remember the day he had gotten it for you — after finding out how your recent obsession was centred around seahorses, when his young eyes captured sight of the hand carving, he knew the goal in mind. after all these years, he was surprised you still had it.

"studying, huh?" a teasing smirk played at the corner of his mouth as his gaze dropped briefly to the scattered textbooks and notes covering your desk before meeting your eyes again, "at this hour? you're a real diligent student."

he stopped at the foot of your bed, hands shoved casually in the pockets of his low slung sweatpants. the thin fabric did little to conceal his strong, lean physique. up close, you could see the glint of mischief in his sleepy blue eyes.

"i know you've got a big test coming up soon..." he dragged out the words teasingly.

"mhm," you hum, scrolling through what felt like hundreds of digital pages of notes. your gaze flickers nervously between the laptop, and the man stood in front of you. "been studying for it all week, brain is starting to mush."

rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "mush huh? well, we can't have that..." in two long strides, he closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently shut the lid of your laptop. his fingertips brushed against yours, sending an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"how about you take a break, hm?" his voice was a low rumble, almost hypnotic in the quiet of the night. "i bet all this studying has you wound tighter than a coil. might do you some good to... relax."

the suggestive edge to his tone doesn't go unnoticed, "it's late, rafe..." you practically stutter, crimson blush flooding your cheeks at the thought of spending time with rafe alone. "besides, top's probably gonna be wondering where you are, soon."

rafe's lips curled into a roguish grin at the mention of your brother, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eye. "topper? nah, he's dead to the world right now. passed out cold after that last beer."

his hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to trace the delicate shell. "plus," he murmurs, voice dropping an octave, "what top doesn't know won't hurt him. it'll be our little secret."

the air between you crackled with tension as rafe's gaze raked over your form, taking in the way your thin pajama tank top clung to your curves. he licked his lips unconsciously, "c'mon, sweet girl, live a little. promise i don't bite."

the moment of hesitation is apparent on your face — wide doe eyes staring back at the man who waits almost painfully for you to say something.

"alright," you start, voice a little too timid, unsure of yourself, "what do you have in mind?"

rafe's grin widened at your question, a flash of triumph in his eyes. "well, for starters..." he reaches out to trail a finger along your jawline, tilting your chin to meet his heated gaze. "how about i help you work out some of that pent=up tension? i've got a few ideas that might clear your head better than cramming."

his other hand found its way to your thigh, squeezing gently as he inched higher. "we could start with a nice, relaxing massage. get rid of all that stiffness from hunching over your books all night." his voice vibrates through you in a low purr, dripping with suggestion.

this felt wrong — so wrong. having rafe's hands on your bare skin, knowing your brother, his best friend, was only a few bedrooms down, the heat within your stomach pooled as the thrill of anticipation roared throughout your entire body. his touch was hot against your skin, leaving burning fingerprints in its wake. still, as his hand trailed up your thigh, you felt your body relax as you gave in to his suggestion.

his touch was electric as his hands began to knead the tense muscles of your shoulders and upper back. he worked slowly, deliberately, thumbs digging into knots you hadn't even known existed. leaning down, his breath ghosted hot air against your ear as he whispered, "that's it, just relax. let me take care of you."

his fingers traced the line of your spine, slipping beneath the thin straps of your tank top. with agonizing slowness, he pushed the flimsy material down, exposing more of your soft skin to the cool night air and his heated gaze.

continuing his sensual massage, his wandering hands seemed to 'accidentally' brush against your most intimate areas. his fingers grazed the curve of your ass as he reached for the small of your back, calloused fingers kneading deep within the plush flesh of your body.

lost in the new sensations, you barely register the inapprorate touches — his knuckles so clumsily skimming over your clothed mound, the brief contact sending a jolt to your core. too inexperienced to realize the significance, you had only played it off as a 'mistake', but rafe knew better.

the whimpers you let escape were hardly recognized internally as his calloused hands dug into the dimples of your back, working his magic at releasing the tension built up within your overworked muscles. each purr out of your throat had his hands slipping further and further, just like he had planned.

unbeknownst to you in your innocent state, rafe allowed his touch to linger longer on your clothed mound. his palm grazed the front of your panties as he adjusted your position, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

there was nothing wrong with this, you thought — rafe was helping you. his hands worked skillfully against the soft skin, eliciting the most delicious moans out of you with each touch. he was giving you a massage, this was as innocent as it could get, right? it wasn't like he gained anything from helping you out.

wrong. the foreign feeling of his fingers rubbing against your covered cunt, rubbing the slit between your puffy lips had your eyes shooting open in confusion, head rounded to look at him from over your shoulder, "rafe?"

rafe froze for a split second when you stuttered his name, fingers stilling against your clothed sex. but then, emboldened by your lack of immediate protest, he pressed on. his middle finger began to trace slow, deliberate circles over your covered pussy, feeling the heat emanating from your core.

"just relax, princess," he cooed softly, free hand sliding up to rest on your hip, holding you in place. "let me make you feel good."

he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, tongue darting out to taste your skin. all the while, his finger continued its maddeningly slow movements, rubbing you through the dampening fabric of your panties. the rough pad of his fingertip caught on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

the whine you let out was almost feral, worry spreading through you quickly at the thought of your own family walking in and seeing the situation in front of them. “t-this feels wrong, rafe..” but it felt so right at the same time.

a dark chuckle rumbled in rafe's chest at your conflicted words, his finger never ceasing its torturous dance over your weeping pussy, as if studying the anatomy of your body. "wrong?" he murmured huskily against your ear.

to punctuate his words, he hooked a finger in the waistband of your panties and tugged them aside, finally making direct contact with your slick folds. rafe groaned at the feel of your wet heat, stroking through your arousal with teasing lightness. "fuck, sweetheart... you're so wet already. your body knows what it wants, even if your pretty little head is confused."

his other hand slid up your torso to cup your breast through your tank top, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbled beneath the thin fabric.

you knew the blush on your cheeks was bright red as the warm feeling flooded your cheeks. it felt so foreign — his fingers exploring your sloppy folds, thumb occasionally sending firm strokes against your swollen clit.

"i-" you begin, the words breathy which each word you spoke, "i've never done this before, rafe."

your eyes meet his, blue eyes dark and blown with anticipation, with pure lust. he groans out at the confession, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "never? fuck, you're like the perfect little virgin sacrifice."

his fingers continued their relentless exploration of your untouched folds, circling your clit with the pads of his two fingers, applying just enough pressure to have you practically squirming beneath him. his free hand pushed the fabric of your tank top up to expose your breasts, his head dipping to capture one rosy peaky between his teeth, sucking greedily as he rolled the other nipple between his fingers.

"don't worry, baby. i'll teach you everything," he promised darkly, working to slowly pump two fingers inside of your tight pussy. "gonna ruin you for anyone else. by the time i'm done, this sweet cunt will only crave my touch."

moaning out at the sound of his words, his hand roughly slaps against your mouth, hips rutting desperately against yours as his thick fingers continued to fuck into you, "they'll hear us if you keep that up, angel. gotta be quiet for me, can ya do that?"

his thumb found your clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he curled his fingers just right inside of you. he groaned out at the feeling of your walls pulsing around his digits, cock hurting against the fabric of his boxers at the feeling of how tight you were. rafe swallowed your needy whimpers with a deep, filthy kiss, tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.

you nodded frantically at his question, almost desperate. the chuckle he lets out is dark and primal, coming from a place of pure ego. nevertheless, the walls of your cunt fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers. he wanted nothing more than to push you over the edge, to watch you come undone completely. he craved the feeling of freeing his aching cock and burying it deep inside your tight, virgin heat.

but even in his lust-addled state, rafe recognized the risk you were taking, hand still clamped over your mouth tightly to drown out the sounds of your pathetic whines. he could tell you were close, the way your eyes rolled and you clung onto his wrist — he was going to make damn sure he'd never forget this sight.

"you're so fucking wet for me, baby," he murmured appreciatively, voice low and husky. "this pretty pussy is practically begging for my cock."

despite his earlier restraints, rafe found himself unable to resist your needy pleas. he increased the pace of his touches, fingers pumping steadily in and out of your tight heat as his thumb rubbed firm circles on your poor clit. the obscene sound of your arousal filled the room as he fingered you, the obsessive mixture of squelching and subtle whining ringing through his ears like a song, destined to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

"feels so fucking good," you moan out, hand trailing down your soft body to make contact with your own clit. the action sent a groan through the man, adorning the way you worked yourself out of pure desperation for him.

"yeah?" he rasps, curling his fingers inside of you once more. "fuckin’ filthy slut, getting off with your brother's best friend? dirty girl..."

one of rafe's hands slid up to cover your mouth again, ready to muffle any loud cries as he pushed you over the edge. you were experiencing pure ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his warm breath tickled your neck. his hips rocked subtly against yours, seeking some much-needed friction for his own aching arousal.

"c'mon, be a good girl and cum on my fingers," he urged in a low, commanding tone. his words alone were enough to elicit that delicious high out of you, whines muffled against the warm palm of his hand. he held you tightly as your body shook and convulsed with the throes of your first orgasm, fingers still buried deep inside your tight velvet walls. he swallowed each keening cry that fell from your swollen, plump lips, muffling the sounds of your pleasure. rafe's own hips jerked involuntarily, grinding against your thigh as he watched you come undone.

"that's it, baby. cum on my fingers, just like that..." he praised breathlessly, voice strained with barely contained desire. even as your climax began to subside, rafe continued to slowly pump his digits in and out, drawing out every last wave of bliss.

finally, as your breathing stilled, he carefully withdrew his fingers from your overstimulated folds, coated digits slipping past his own lips as he made a show of licking them clean. your poor cunt clenched around nothing at the sight, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his sweats.

tugging your hand suddenly, he brings your open palm to the prominent tent below his torso, groaning at the contact. "feel what you do to me? how fucking hard i am for you?"

his hungry lips capture yours once more, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth like he was on a feverish mission — breathy sighs falling from his lips each time you stroked him through the cotton fabric of his sweatpants.

with great effort, he practically dragged your hand from his straining erection. his lips pressed a soft kiss to your warm forehead, dipping his head between your thighs to place the softest kiss to the tender, sensitive skin of your inner legs.

the mattress shifts underneath you, rafe standing back on to the fuzzy carpet of your bedroom. a pout flooded your features at the lack of sudden satisfaction, your body already eager for more. "i'll text you, yeah?"

it wouldn't be for a few days later that you'd receive that infamous, long-awaited text from your brother's best friend — audibly gasping as your eyes land on the perverted video of himself he had filmed for your eyes only.

[zer0pm]

Imagine both Leon and Luis offering you their jackets when you start shivering.

“You cold?”

“A little bit, but nothing I can’t handle.”

You say this with your teeth chattering and it was clear on Leon’s unamused face that he wasn’t buying it. The blonde sighs, hiding a slight smirk before his lips return to his characteristic frown.

“Here,” he says, shrugging out of his thick, fur-lined jacket. In doing so, the strong definition of muscles on his arms and chest came into full display and you couldn’t help but note every sculpted line. Those years of secret government training did wonders for his physique and the tight navy shirt left little to the imagination. Your overactive thoughts nearly run wild when his arms flexed out of his sleeves.

Remembering yourself, you shake your head. “Thanks, but won’t you be freezing?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Leon says with a slight smile, his gentle tone echoing yours when you tried to save face in a surprisingly teasing manner. For as long as you’ve known the blond, he was rarely warm and gentle. His stern, straight-laced demeanor and dry sense of humor often overshadows his kinder, sociable qualities. So to see him so openly considerate was a rare treat. This unexpected side of him stirred feelings inside you that are not at all unwelcome, but you found yourself at a loss for words.

He takes his jacket by the collar and offers it to you with an encouraging look that said that he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. You breathe out an air of defeat, reaching towards him. Against your will, your eyes roamed over the thick veins of his strong forearm and bicep appreciatively, and you tried to recover by quickly looking up. That was a mistake. He was no longer wearing a grin, but the heat within his eyes intensifies when they meet yours. You felt your cheeks burning under his knowing gaze.

Your fingertips (unintentionally) brush against his as you grabbed hold of the faux fur and was about to accept the weight of the clothing in your hands until you felt something warm and heavy drop around your shoulders. It took you by surprise and you look over to your side to see Luis standing next to you- sans leather jacket.

The Spaniard had his signature lopsided smile on his handsome face as he adjusted the stitched leather around you, making sure that it would not fall. It gave you an opportunity to look him over as well. You knew he wore a white-buttoned shirt, but now that he wasn’t wearing his jacket, you can see how nicely the fabric fitted on his frame.

For a man who considers himself the brains of your group, he was impressively cut. While Luis wasn’t as strongly built as Leon, he had a lean, well-defined waist that would have otherwise been hidden from sight with his jacket on. The sleeves of the shirt hugs his long arms nicely and his broad frame tautly stretches the thin creases that ran across the fabric, accentuating the exposed portion of his scarred chest. It became apparent to you then that Luis left the few buttons undone for reasons beyond just visual appeal.

The dark-haired man chuckled beneath his breath as he caught you staring. “Take mine, my friend. I’ve kept it warm- just for you.”

“Luis,” you started, trying to keep a straight face, “aren’t you worried about getting sick?” Your consideration came from a genuine place of concern and it showed in your voice, but you couldn’t argue the relief you felt wrapped inside the warmth provided by his jacket. You thought the leather would do little against the chilly weather, but surprisingly, it felt wonderful on you- most certainly because Luis’ heat formerly occupied it and the thought of you surrounded in said heat made your already feverish blush deepen.

“Y no te preocupes por mí.” He assures confidently. “I grew up in these parts. This weather doesn’t affect me one bit, so I insist.”

The man doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond.

“Unless…” Luis pauses for a second, playfulness glinting in his grey eyes. He then steps closer to your front. The movement forces you to reflexively let go of Leon’s jacket, leaving it to hang in the other man’s hand to allow room for the Spaniard to step in between you. Now only Luis stands in your full view, his eyes locking yours, all while maintaining his charming grin. “We come in close. Like this.”

The devilish man wraps a daring arm around your shoulders, nudging you closer to him but not forceful enough where you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to. You subconsciously didn’t want to and allowed him to bring you in, stopping to where your chests are merely a hair’s breath away from pressing against one another.

“This way we can keep each other warm,” he continues with a wink. “A good idea, ¿sí?”

Your ears pick up an annoyed scoff and you look over Luis’ broad shoulder. Leon stood with arms crossed, his bored eyes casted to the side as if finding something interesting in the distance. He already had his jacket back on, much to your disappointment.

Before you, Luis wears an amused smirk, addressing the blond without looking at him with faux intrigue, his focused gaze still resting entirely on you. “Something funny, Sancho?”

Leon ignores the obvious jab, “Just making mental bets on how long you’ll last before you start running your mouth. So far, I’m leaning towards two minutes.”

This made the Spaniard take a step back to turn his body sideways, arm still resting around you. Luis hums thoughtfully.

“Such harsh words for a squire,” he dismisses the counter with a casual shrug, squeezing your shoulder. At the time, you thought it to be a warm gesture, not once detecting the possessive undertones blatantly on display at the action. “Never underestimate a knight’s resilience. Or his endurance.”

If you had paid attention, you would have noticed the two men glaring at one another. You would have caught Leon’s challenging snarl and Luis’ taunting gaze. But no, you were too busy settling into Luis’ jacket, slipping your arms into the sleeves and zipping it closed around your form.

Ashley’s voice calls out to the three of you, announcing that she found something. Without a second thought, you start stepping towards her direction, separating yourself from Luis’ heat. You missed the frown he wore at your absence and by the time you looked back at him, he had on his usual charming smirk.

“Thanks for the jacket, Luis. I’ll give it back, I promise.” You say graciously, causing his grin to widen to a genuine smile. You then stop before Leon, also offering him a grateful look as you patted his chest. It was meant to be an amicable touch but the contact sent jolts of electricity from your palm to your chest. His body exuded an inviting warmth that made you hesitant to withdraw as you spoke trying to keep your voice level. “And I appreciate the thought, Leon. You’re always so reliable.”

You missed the subtle redness in his cheeks then too, willing yourself to give space and continuing to move to Ashley’s location. Both men are left staring after you, longing evident in the pools of silver and blue. After what seemed like an eternity of tense silence, Luis is the first to speak up.

“Dos minutos, mi culo.” He grumbles, a hint of amused irritation in his thick accented voice.

Leon snorts in turn. “That was generous.”

[heeseungwifey]

It's like a Polaroid... nude?

pairing: IdolJay! x y/n

warning: contains smut!

Jay loved fan mail. Receiving letters about how much someone loves him always strokes his ego, feeling rewarded for his hard job. He’s a total workaholic, both professionally and in his private life. He goes to the gym, eats healthy, rests well. He loves how his fans notice his muscular physique in the comments. 

Letters are usually from young girls, he appreciates the love and support but would never correspond to the romantic aspect of the messages. Often some older girls, his age and a bit younger make advances and he, as a man, feels the urge to meet up with them, signing an NDA just in case. They are groupies that just enjoy the experience but they never leave a big impact on him. 

The whole group goes to the hotel after a concert, exhausted from the busy schedule. Jay sees a group of fans waiting outside, his eyes meeting the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. The girl is standing there with a face mask on and a letter in her hand, she doesn’t seem as excited as the others and Jay gets curious.

The boys get closer to the crowd, signing CDs and receiving fan letters, all normal. Jay, on the other hand, is cautiously looking at this mysterious girl and directly grabs her letter, mouthing a thank you. 

The boys get in the van and some of them open the letters to read out loud, not aware that Jay has only picked up one, hidden inside his jacket waiting to read it at the hotel. He doesn’t know why but his intuition tells him the content of that letter is only for his eyes to see.

It’s midnight and Jay is ready to go to sleep, his pyjamas and skincare are done. He picks up the letter and touches it, feeling like there’s more than a letter, like little pieces of what seems like photographic paper. When he opens the envelope, a bunch of polaroids fall from inside, his curiosity spiking. When he flips them around he sees the girl who gave him the letter, wearing just her bra and red lipstick. it’s a selfie, her beautiful eyes and riqué outfit taking all the attention. The next Polaroid is a shot further away from her face, showing that she’s just wearing her bra and panties, getting Jay’s ears red for such an intimate gift. That’s what he thought until he saw the next one, her tits on full display and just her red lips, such a lewd picture Jay had to stop and read the letter. 

“Dear Jay,

This is me showing my love for you. I noticed you are trying so hard to look hot these days, did you think I wouldn’t notice your muscular tanned arms in those outfits of yours? Your strong legs while dancing and your huge bulge when you sit down? You grow the monster inside of me that wants to fuck you so dumb that you don’t even know the days of the week. To leave you so dry you don’t get with another bitch ever again in your life. To leave you like a puppy waiting for me. I wanted to return the favour for all this hard work and give you a little gift.

Here are some polaroids for your eyes only, for those lonely nights when you need help. I am your whore, just text me and I’ll go anywhere. You got me on my knees.

love and kisses, 

xxx xxx xxx”

Jay couldn’t believe what he just read. Her name wasn’t even on the letter, just her phone number. And a kiss with the red lipstick. Jay picked the other polaroids, realising right there that those left were way worse. A mirror picture fully naked, a close-up of her open legs, her red dripping pussy at the centre of the shot. A picture of her inserting a toy and looking at the camera with her tongue out was his favourite. 

He had to call her. Needed to. His eyes were darting from polaroid to polaroid, his bulge growing bigger and bigger and his thoughts clouding, just flashes of red lips. Jay picks up his phone and calls the number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up, biting his nails and touching his groin mindlessly. 

“Hello?” a sweet voice picks up the phone, which makes Jay wonder if he dialled the wrong number. How could a girl who makes such gifts have a voice this soft?

“Hello! Yeah, I received a letter today and it had someone's phone number, this phone number to be more precise. Is there any chance that the girl who gave me this letter is you?” 

“Jay? Is it you?”

“yeah, it’s me” Jay jumps on his seat, so it is her, the girl with the pretty eyes.

“Oh Jay, did you like my letter? I made it with so much love, I can’t believe you read it” She sounds naughty over the other side of the line, with a sultry voice mixed with innocence. 

“yeah, I did like it… a lot. I was wondering if you were up to meeting today, at my hotel” Jay is unsure this is gonna turn alright, asking with no confidence. 

“Oh really? Do you want me to go?” she sounds happy on the other side of the line, excited to meet her celebrity crush. 

“Yes, I do. I’m at the Palace Hotel, when you get to the front desk ask for room 549. A bodyguard will bring you up here” Jay can’t even believe what he’s doing, being used to meeting with girls he saw at the club and interacted a bit with, no a stranger.

“Okay Jay, I’ll be there in 20 minutes!” she sounded happy and decided like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Jay was tense instantly. Fuck, 20 minutes was too much waiting. He started picking from the floor the clothes and shoes that were scattered all around the room, to give a good impression. Making the bed, tugging the bedsheets and placing the pillows in their place. God, he even took a shower and cut his toenails. He was so desperate to give a good impression to this girl who, being honest, he didn’t have to win. She was already coming to his hotel room to fuck him anyways. 

When Jay was getting unsure she was gonna show up, three light knocks sounded from outside his hotel room. As fast as he could he got up from the bed and walked towards the door, trying to keep his cool. 

When he opened the door he was met with the same eyes he had seen that afternoon, foxy and deep brown. He was speechless, as if he hadn’t been imagining this situation for 20 minutes. 

“Hello Jay! Sorry for being late, couldn’t find a taxi” He opened the door for her, her figure walked inside the room. jay noticed what she was wearing, a long coat and knee-high boots. It was quite an outfit, given that it wasn’t that cold of weather to be in such a wintery outfit. 

“Can I ask for your name…? You didn’t tell me in the letter” Jay closed the door and walked to where she was, sitting in his bed and her purse on the table under the TV. 

“Oh really! how silly… my name is y/n. Sorry, I guess I wasn’t focused when I was writing the letter…” She’s sitting with her legs crossed, subtle movements that Jay catches as she’s rubbing them. She remembers what she wrote in the letter.

How could she forget when in front of her was Jay in a tank top and grey sweatpants, his sexy and toned biceps on sight and his protruding bulge obviously waiting for her. She knew what she had done with that letter and those polaroids, ready to satisfy him as soon as she walked into the room. 

“Oh, nice to meet you, y/n.” Jay gets close to kiss her on the cheek, as a greeting, but she turns her head and kisses him on the mouth instead. Yeah, fuck it, they both know for what they came for. Let’s stop acting dumb. 

Her hands push his head to deepen the kiss,  grabbing a fistful of his hair. Jay is standing right in between her legs as she’s sitting down and he’s standing. When the kiss gets more heated she takes off her boots and stands up on the bed, tongue-tied with him as she takes off her coat, wearing nothing underneath but a lingerie set. Jay can’t believe his eyes as he looks up at that sight. His hands go straight to her ass, groping and massaging it. God, the kiss has gotten him so worked up he needs to take his pants off immediately. 

“Oh baby, does it hurt down there? Do you want me to help you with that?” she says as she grabs his shoulders and gets off the bed, already on her knees by the time Jay gets to moan a yes. 

“Sit down honey, I’m going to put my money where my mouth is” Y/n pulls his pants down and pushes him to sit on the bed, his dick springing out and looking achingly red and precum coming out of it. 

“I knew it, it’s big! Fuck Jay, you don’t have an idea of how many times I have thought about doing this  to you…” She kisses it right on the head  “How many times I’ve fantasised about how it looks…” Another kiss “How it tastes…” she takes it and puts it in her mouth, slightly sucking on it. “Do you like it?’”

Jay can’t even speak, he’s sweating and if he tries to open his mouth he might let a whimper escape. She knows she’s doing a good job by Jay’s reaction so she keeps on going. Saliva all over his dick and her head bobbing as she makes eye contact with him, her hands slightly scratching his thighs. 

“stop… no, no… STOP” Jay grabs her head and stops her, trying really hard not to come because of the popping sound of her mouth leaving his dick. He knows himself and much rather fuck her with the energy he has now than waste it on some blowjob. He needs to fuck her and feel her tight walls around his cock, filling her with his cum. As much as he loves her mouth he knows she’s way better fuck. 

“I don’t wanna come yet baby girl… let me be inside you for that” Jay gets y/n from the ground and sits her on the bed, lifting her by her ass and placing her in the middle of the bed. The lingerie set is starting to bother him, taking off the garters and the bra, leaving her only in her panties and thigh-high tights. Jay starts sucking and licking her perky nipples, moans escaping from her mouth as she just pushes his head up to her chest, going insane every second that passes and Jay doesn’t fuck her.

“Jay, please… do something, it hurts” y/n is almost crying at this point, rubbing her thighs is not enough to relieve the heat she feels between her legs. Jay smirks, pulling slowly her panties off and breathing heavily right next to her heat.

“Does it hurt here? do you need me to help you ease the pain?” Jay looks at y/n face from between her legs, y/n just wishing she could take a picture and keep this moment forever. Jay puts in one finger, realising how wet and ready she is for him. After getting three fingers in and many complaints from y/n to just fuck her already, Jay goes to his backpack and pulls out a condom. 

“Okay baby, I’m going in. You okay with it?” Even after almost supplicating him to fuck her he still makes sure she really wants to, which y/n feels a fire in her belly, he's 10x times hotter now than she already thought. 

“Yes Jay, I want you to fuck me like none has ever done it to me before” And with a kiss they both seal this promise, Jay going full in and bottoming out. He waits a few seconds so y/n can get used to the size, getting a few strands of hair out of her face, feeling too intimate while doing missionary position.

Jay starts moving slowly, y/n already asking for more and more, Jay feeling how her walls keep on getting tighter and tighter. He’s worried to get into it, cumming way too soon. His view is criminal, her hair all over the bed, her rosy cheeks and open mouth, her tits bouncing with each thrust… Jay needs to make her come before him so he starts doing circles on her clit, getting whimpers in response. Y/n is almost done, too tired to keep on going for this round. 

“Jay… Jay, I’m coming… stop it’s too much, I’m coming hard, ARHHHG!!!” y/n is laying on the bed, with blurry vision and an aching body. Jay finishes right after her, taking the condom off and painting her belly with his seed, satisfied with his job. 

y/n lays there for half an hour, Jay has let her chill on his hotel bed. She’s asleep as he cleans her up from the mess he made and waits for her to wake up to get her a bath ready. By the time she’s up again, Jay is cuddling with her and kissing her forehead, like she was his girlfriend and not some groupie. 

“Did you have fun? I think you kept your promise” Jay smiles as he remembers what the letter said. 

“What did I promise?” y/n is quite disoriented from the kick nap she just took

“You said something like… you were going to fuck me so dumb that … I wouldn’t even know the days of the week or something along those lines hahaha” y/n hides under the blankets as Jay pets her head. 

“To be honest… I wrote that when I was drunk… and horny… like I had just seen a fancam of you and you looked soo good… I got sad I didn’t stand a chance with you. But I guess I did” y/n looks up at him and he’s smiling at her, so cute she just had to kiss him. 

“So you were horny and you wrote that letter?”

“And took those polaroids, thinking of what your reaction could be to them. I guess I know now” 

“And did you think of me while you were touching yourself with that toy?” Jay wonders, already knowing the answer. 

“I don’t think I have ever touched myself without thinking of you Jay, I thought about you 24/7”

“That sounds good… now you just don’t have to think of me, now you can call me” Jay smirks and y/n understands perfectly, this will happen over and over again…

[risingoftime]

one night only

⤷ coriolanus snow x fem!reader: coriolanus’s classmates gets him a personal birthday present.

contains: 18+ MDNI, virginity loss, escort!reader, virgin!coriolanus, porn with plot, dub-con, smut, oral, p in v, sex work, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation.

word count — 2k

From above, you observed a line of women entering Pluribus's nightclub from the changerooms. Each woman seemed to cater to every man's fantasies, meticulously groomed and prepared for what the night might bring. As your turn to go on stage approached, the music transformed into a slow and seductive rhythm, signalling your cue. Taking one final swig of the strong white liquor, you felt a burning sensation as it went down your throat, causing your eyes to water. The spotlight illuminated the top of the staircase. It was now or never.

Your sheer daisy blue robe hinted at the white lace lingerie hidden underneath; almost everyone’s eyes were on you. Almost. A single gentleman by the bar with his friends kept his eyes on the stirring glass of moonshine that he held in his hand. He masked his face as bored and indifferent, but his body language communicated a different story, tight and wound up as if he’d be ready to bolt at any moment. It was evident that his friends dragged him here. He stood out like a sore thumb with his buzzcut light blonde hair and tall, broad physique. The lighting was low, but you knew who he was instantly: Coriolanus Snow, the first student-mentor from the Academy. He’d helped that girl from District 12. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys, especially ones with deep pockets that would pay a hefty price for just one night.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like to introduce our one and only Capitol Gem.” It took everything within you not to roll your eyes at the nickname Pluribus had come up with as you descended the steps. Hoots and whistles erupted from the crowd as your hips swayed with each move, flowing through different positions to accentuate your flexibility. In a passive motion, you unwrapped your robe with a coy smile on your lips, entirely in character now. Gone was the girl from District 11. The song's base bounced off the wall, creating a numbing hum in your chest and ears. Combined with the liquor, it was easy to ignore the lust-filled stares. The robe cascaded at your feet, fully exposing your scantily covered body. Some men began throwing cash on stage, yelling, “Take it all off, baby.”

You swiftly climbed the pole, contorting your body to swirl around, allowing them to view you from all angles. This is what they came for, to watch you—whining your waist up and down while holding the rod, serving the fantasy of how you’d look when riding someone’s cock. Dropping into a split, the crowd went wild. Glancing at the public, you could see the other women beginning lap dances, writhing their bodies to the rhythm of the music. Coriolanus kept his eyes on the drink in hand, only glancing up to sip the moonshine. Your eyes met briefly, and he offered a shy smile before his friend caught his attention to whisper something in his ear. Coriolanus shook his head in protest, but his friend seemed too intoxicated to care about their friend's opinion. The man was slightly shorter with dark brown curls and had a big, goofy smile as he unfurled a fat wad of cash from his pocket. The friend pushed it against Coriolanus’s chest, forcing him to grip the money before it dropped on the dirty speakeasy floors. If you didn’t approach them now, then another girl would.

Elongating your body across the stage, you grabbed the miscellaneous bills of cash on the floor into a pile and stowed them away in the bag you hid by the steps. Pluribus knew your routine and smoothly transitioned to a new tune. With a charming smile, you quickly walked through the crowd, evading eager hands, keeping your eyes on the prize - Coriolanus Snow. But before you could approach him and introduce yourself, his unnamed friend positioned himself between you.

“Hello, Darlin, I’m Augustus,” he slurred your stage name as if it was meant to remain secret. His skin glistened, and the smell of alcohol reeked from his pores. Poor thing was drunk off of his ass. Augustus’s other friends watched, amused at him, while Coriolanus sorted and pocketed the money into his pants.

“What can I do for you, baby?”

“Oh no, not me! For my dear friend Coryo. It’s his birthday! Think he needs a private dance–”

“He needs more than that!” One of the boys quipped, earning quite a few laughs. There appeared to be only a few members from Capitol University, but you only saw walking dollar signs. “Well, it’s only your birthday for one night; I can make it worthwhile,” You replied. They nodded eagerly and practically shoved Coriolanus to stand in front of you. His eyes widened, and his face tinged pink with embarrassment.

“I– I’m sorry about them.” He fumbled over his words as he tried his hardest to keep eye contact and not wander further down to your breasts. You appreciated the effort. Quite the change of character in comparison to what you were used to.

“Don't worry, I don’t bite! But I do need to be paid before we go any further.” You looked up at him and his friends shyly, laying the innocent role on them thick, and they did not hesitate to hand you a sum of money that could cover all of your monthly costs. The sons of Capital families were always the easiest to deceive. They’d learn eventually.

You led Coriolanus upstairs to a simple and minimalist room, clean and warm. He let go of your hand before you could guide him to the bed.

“We don’t have to–”

“Don’t have to what… fuck? Are you a prude?” The question came off more blunt than you had intended; your surprise was evident. Many men of the Capitol fantasized about fucking a girl from the districts with the presumption of sex being more exotic with women who did not come from the same socioeconomic background. Yet he seemed bashful and unsure of how to converse with you and, nonetheless, have sex. “No, no, it’s not that…” His eyes wandered around the room, avoiding eye contact. In the dim lighting, you could still see his cheeks flush with embarrassment or perhaps from the alcohol - most likely both.

“Oh. You’re a virgin.” It became painfully apparent as his face deepened in shades from pink to beet red at your discovery. “It’s hard to believe the Coriolanus Snow hasn’t been with anyone. Has no one caught your eye? You are quite popular amongst the Capitol.” You walked to the bed and lay on the duvet facing him.

“There was this one girl, but it didn’t work out.”

“So you've never thought to act on impulse on your desires? or are you a romantic?” His answer to the question was inconsequential, but it would’ve been a lie to say you weren’t attracted or intrigued by the young man standing before you. The real question you wanted to ask was whether he’d act on his desires with you. Would he give in?

“I’m far from a romantic,” he confessed.

He walked to the bed and tentatively sat beside you. Coriolanus was watching you now, allowing his eyes to take you in. Your supple dark skin glowed in contrast to the crisp white lingerie set. If he looked closely, he would see your hardened nipples underneath the unlined lace. His heated gaze made you feel aroused without even being touched - a foreign sensation you hadn't felt in a while. Coriolanus's face drew closer to yours, lips mere inches apart.

You weren't sure who made the first move, but everything else faded away when his lips met yours. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, slightly tugging it to deepen the kiss. Coriolanus’s tongue slid over yours, and he tasted like mint and moonshine. You whispered between kisses, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Snow.” Taking one of your hands, Coriolanus guided your hands to his clothed crotch. “Tell me,” you repeated with another kiss.

“Suck me off.”

Unbuckling Coriolanus’s pants revealed a deep v line to his long, girthy cock sprung free from his pants. He inhaled sharply as your tongue trailed his length from the base to the tip before taking the head of his dick in your mouth. You watched as Coriolanus bit back a moan while he watched began sucking the precum leaking from his slit.

“Oh fuck” he rasped. Your head began bobbing up and down his cock with lips wet from saliva, using your hands and mouth together to make sweet pressure build up in his core. The once untouchable Coriolanus Snow was like putty in your hands, whimpering and begging for you to provide him release. You looked up to meet his eyes as he watched and moaned pitifully, trying his best to hold back. Snow looked so pretty like this, vulnerable. “Shit, I- you’re so beautiful,” he groaned. Coriolanus inhaled sharply as you continued to suck his dick, taking it all in your mouth with precision.

“I’m going to cum” Coriolanus cried out.

As you removed his member from your mouth, strands of saliva trailed behind. You continued to stroke him slowly with your hands. "No, not yet. I'm not done with you," you said, shimmying out of your panties. Grinding your wetness against him, you teasingly rubbed your pussy against his cock. Positioning yourself to let your clit rub against him, you worked yourself up, feeling an indescribable need for more. Your tightness clenched around nothing, longing to be filled by Coriolanus. "Snow put it inside me." The chemistry between the two of you intensified.

Coriolanus fumbled with the condom before gliding it on his member. Sinking onto his cock, you were unsure if you can take it all. With each inch, your body shook, waves of pleasure overcame your body once he was entirely in, and arousal pooled between you. Digging his fingers into your ass, in a calm voice, “Your pussys’ so tight,” Coriolanus said. He pounded into you relentlessly as you straddled him. His hooded eyes trained on your cunt, taking him all in. Wet slapping sounds filled the room, betraying the explicit activities within.

“Fuck, slow down. I'm going to cum Corio-”

His lips overtook yours once more in a passionate kiss as he panted between each thrust. “Feel s’good,” Coriolanus slurred. His toned arms wrapped around you, locking you into position with no room to run from his dick, completely taking possession of your body. Your silky walls coiled around him, only for Coriolanus to take. Both of your waists moved frantically as the tension between the two was about to snap.

"Cum inside me, baby," you purred. Coriolanus was on the edge, lost in the sensation of your pussy as he thrust into you. His movements became languid and sloppy. "Ugh, don't stop," Coriolanus choked out between moans. His breath hitched, and his grip tightened as you rode him toward orgasm.

“You’re all mine,” he growled.

“Only for tonight, just one night.” You huffed, still slick with sweat and your juices. Your clit throbbed each time you rolled your hips. Coriolanus erection is still hard inside of you. He got his, and now it was your turn to get yours. He winced at the continued friction as you bounced on top of him. His once rough grasp around you turned gentle, unable to handle the pace that you set.

“I… I can’t.”

“Shhhh, let me take care of you.”

You placed tender kisses along his neck before gently nibbling on his earlobes. The heightened sensitivity awakened a different side of Coriolanus. "I'm gonna cum again," he sighed, blissed out. Your pussy tightened like a vice grip as your legs trembled in bliss, milking him of every last drop of cum, leaving you both feeling euphoric.

"That was fucking amazing... I never..." After struggling to form a coherent sentence, Coriolanus touched your chin, guiding your lips back to his. It was intimate as you melded into each other, foreheads pressed together. Coriolanus and you remained in that position for what felt like hours, inhaling each other's breath.