#i feel obligated to write that in a smut now like actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowersforjude · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | When Cregan Stark begins his search for a wife, some hidden feelings come to light.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6,484(Idk what came over me okay!?)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Friends to lovers, Longing and pining, Love confessions, Possessive!Cregan, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Clit biting, Hair pulling, Multiple orgasms, Biting/bruising(VERY MILD), Wife/marriage kink, Size difference.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I did not anticipate Cregan Stark pulling me out of my writing slump. But everyone say thank you Cregan! For those of you waiting for it, Hea Mēre is still coming. I just wanted to post something since I haven’t put any new works out here lately. Hea Mēre is coming SOON, though, I promise.

masterlist

Word had spread that the Warden of the North was in need of a wife. And so the great hall of Winterfell was now a symphony of merry music and proud spoken promises. Nearly every great house in the north flocked to Winterfell’s gates one after the other. Some lords arrived with nearly their whole households in tow. Some only brought their daughters.

Cregan, ever the loyal man, had welcomed them to his home as any good liege lord would. Demanding a feast be thrown in the honor of northern unity.

The revels had been at their height for hours now, and you took in as much as you could handle. As the night wore on, though, you found a need for respite. The boisterous laughter and clambering of drunk men was a muffled sound to your ears now. Out here in the chilly corridors, only the howling wind could truly be heard.

It had been close to a year since Cregan took the seat of his late father. Since then, the north has rallied behind him. Came to pledge their words of fealty and wish their lord prosperity. And now they came again to offer him their daughters, sisters, and nieces. You knew he would take a wife at some point—some point very soon. And because he was a northman through and through, he would marry a northern woman. One from a great house with a long history and ample influence.

For some reason, all your preparation for this moment had done nothing to aid you when it actually came.

The wind swirled around you like a restless spirit, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself to stave off the chill. You could just go back inside, but all the warmth in the world could not tempt you. Witnessing all the eligible ladies of the north look upon Cregan with hungry and hopeful eyes was an unnecessary cruelty you didn’t wish on yourself. It wasn’t as though you could fault them for it. He was Lord of Winterfell, and as such, he was obligated to take a wife. What woman wouldn’t want that to be them?

You yourself had yearned for it for as long as you could recall. Practically growing up alongside him, youthful companionship had reformed as enrapturing affection. There was not a day where you did not cross paths with him, often purposely carving out time to spend together. You were always available to each other; living within the same keep had made it quite impossible to be apart.

Your father was Master of Arms; being a second son from house Cerwyn, he was granted knighthood in his youth. The late Lord Rickon Stark had appointed him as Master of Arms a handful of years before you were born.

Your father had trained Cregan as a boy. The memory of first meeting him was still clear as glass even after all these years.

The snow was still cool against your cheeks as you sat atop a railing, observing your father working with the boys during one particular day. You had snuck away from your Septa some time ago, preferring the chilled air outside to the stuffy heat indoors. That, and your hands ached from all the needlework you’d been made to practice.

Cregan had caught sight of you almost immediately. Smirking at your attempt to conceal yourself from searching eyes. You smiled back at him, pressing a small finger to your lips silently, asking him to keep your secret.

And he did. He said nothing to your father during the training session. Pretending you weren’t there at all. It wasn’t until your father caught you himself that you were sent back inside with clear instructions to apologize to your Septa for running off.

It was an act of fate that later that day you and Cregan crossed paths in one of the winding halls of Winterfell. In a second long bout of courage, you stopped him to say a proper thank you for not ratting you out.

The rest was simply history.

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” The low rumble of a voice invaded your troubled thoughts.

The sound of footsteps thudded against the old wood. You turned to see Cregan rounding the corner, his slate eyes resting on you. The flickering torchlight caught the contours of his face, and for a moment, the weight of his presence made your heart race.

“Why are you all the way out here?” He asked, his deep candace rolling over you like thunder.

“I just needed some air.” You answered, hoping he’d deem it a suitable reply. “The festivities got a bit overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill of familiar fondness down your spine. “Overwhelming is one way to put it. I can hardly hear myself think in there.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body casting like a shield against the cold. “But I am glad I’ve found you.”

You nodded, not catching the implicating tone in his voice. You dropped your gaze to the frost-kissed ground. “I suppose everyone is eager to make an impression tonight. Especially the ladies.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with a bitterness that you were not used to hearing from your own voice.

He noted the sour tone in your words. He himself admitted to being caught offhand at the unexpected abundance of marriage proposals. When he had alluded to wanting to look for a wife, he hadn’t anticipated this. Truthfully, the only woman he would want to wed was standing beside him. In the years of closeness with you, you had unknowingly taken his heart right from him. He recognized the fact that he hadn’t owned his heart for some time now. He had given it to you long before he even realized it.

If he was certain you would accept, he’d have asked your hand in marriage instead of entertaining half the northern population.

“Eager indeed.” He replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It is all rather…overwhelming.” He sighed, echoing your words from before.

You disliked seeing him so burdened. In the months since he took the role of Warden, though, that oppressed look marred his handsome features far too frequently for your liking.

“You need not rush into anything.” You consoled, wanting to take his strains and carry them yourself.

He grunted, resting his hands over the pommel of Ice. The great longsword hanging at his side. “Would you have me keep my people in suspense?”

“I would rather you keep them waiting than to risk your own happiness.” You said, your voice softer now, carrying the weight of your concern. Sometimes it felt foolish to worry over him so much, but you supposed that was a condition of loving someone.

“What do you think would make me happy?” The question wasn’t unexpected; he oftentimes sought out your advice just as you would with him. But to speak with him of his potential nuptials felt like a shard of ice was lodged in your chest.

You met his eyes; gone from the silver shine was the frustration replaced with a sort of keenness to know your thoughts. Most would say his eyes were two wild winter storms, and they could be if he was so inclined. But you had always seen them as bright stars hanging high in the sky. Shining down with their silver light that pulled you in and stole your breath.

“I would say marriage to someone who could honor and carry on the traditions of your family.” You replied, a peak of the true depths of your devotion seeping into your words. “A lady that would care for you, and not simply the title that came with you.”

“Someone like you, perhaps?” Cregan suggested a teasing lilt in his voice, but there was no mistaking the tinge of sincerity. He stepped closer then, forcing you to twist your position to where your back was against the railing. His warmth clouded your senses for a moment, causing you to lose track of your thoughts.

“You jest.” You retort, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. “This is serious, Cregan.”

His expression shifted, a spark of intensity igniting in his eyes. “I am being serious.” He countered, an unusual tension crackling in the cold air. There was something new swimming in his eyes, firm but soft the longer he looked at you. “You’ve always been more to me than just a companion or a friend. You must know that.”

A scoff sounded from you. “Must I?” You echoed incredulously, your heart pounding in your chest. The chilly air felt electric, humming with unspoken words and emotions that had been buried for too long.

He pressed closer, his presence mudding your resolve. “Yes,” he insisted. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I crave you by my side above all else.” His voice was low and earnest, not a hint of deception to be found.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your lips parting to take in a shaky breath. “I am not a woman that could ever be considered as your wife.” The words stung as they left your lips, trembling on their descent. He was alluding to everything you had secretly hoped for, yet the reality of it felt like a dream you weren’t sure you could grasp. “I am the daughter of a second son. I hold no titles, no grand connections. And certainly-”

Cregan silenced you with a searing kiss. One that was all flames and fervor, but slow enough to feel every movement of his mouth molding over yours. A soft gasp slipped past you, and he drank it in, claiming it for himself.

Your hands hung by your sides for a moment before your body caught up with your mind. But once his solid arms coiled themselves around your hips, something in you snapped in place finally. Hands went to his shoulders, gripping onto the thick fur of his cloak. He pulled you in, your back coming off the railing, pressing you to him so no space was between you.

Your lips struggled to match his pace, but it was not for lack of trying. All these years of tampered emotions and repressed desires made everything blur together. The only tangible thing to be felt was Cregan. He held you with the utmost gentleness, his hands falling along your curves but never drifting too far or squeezing too tightly.

The yearning threatened to spill over. Bubbling within the both of you and being tended higher and higher with every slide of your lips against each other. You knew better than anyone that he had a roughness about him. And you wanted to coax it out; you wanted him.

His teeth nipped your bottom lip as he walked you backwards. Pressing you into a wooden pillar, he brought you flush against him. Though, through all the furs and layers of clothing, there was nothing to be felt. You could sense his hunger in the subtle low noises in the back of his throat and the way his touch grew feverish.

When he left your mouth to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, you took the opportunity to reign in your self-control. When he hitched one of your legs around his hips, though, you could feel your composure slipping away. The line of propriety daring you to cross it as his fingers kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh.

“Cregan.” You sighed as he kissed a line across your jaw. There were things you wanted to say. Things you needed to speak about. But your desire-addled mind couldn’t bring forth a single syllable.

A loud roar of laughter sounded from the great hall, pulling you both back to the present. Cregan huffs into the crook of your neck, the hot puff of his breath sending goosebumps along your spine.

He dropped your leg but kept his hold on your waist. “I will not take you for the first time in my halls where anyone could see.” Everything inside him screamed at him to continue, to hike up your skirts and make you his once and for all. But he would not have the first time muddied with the risk of prying eyes. He would have you, but only somewhere safe, warm, and private.

“If this is what you want,” Cregan murmured. “I would have you in my chambers, though; if you wish to not continue, I will leave at once.”

A huff of laughter escaped you, eyes meeting his as your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. “I have never wanted anything more than you for as long as I can recall.”

With your words solidifying what you both wanted, he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. Taking your hand in his, you made the all too familiar walk to his chambers.

You had some time to think while trending through the halls. Your mind was made up, resolved, and set in stone, but nerves prickled at your skin. Not for the act itself really, but the knowledge it would be with Cregan. After all this time and all the wondering, it was finally happening. You hadn’t quite wrapped your head around it yet.

This part of the keep was dead silent, far away enough from the great hall that the raucous of the gathering was a distant memory. The doors to his chambers were tall, heavy oak, crafted from large stocks of trees from the Wolfswood. As Cregan pushed them open, the warmth from inside his rooms wafted out to greet you.

Passing through the threshold, you felt the shift of everything. Nothing would be the same after tonight. “What happens afterwards?” You question, words leaving your lips in a whisper as his makes an expedition across your jaw. You didn’t want to doubt him, but all of this felt like a dream moving so quickly you couldn’t discern if anything was real.

“I will make you mine tonight.” He murmured, one arm going around your waist. “And you make me yours. Then we will be wed before the Weirwood tree.”

“You would make me your wife?” You asked softly, watching as his face became puzzled.

“Were my words not convincing enough?” A smile pulled on his lips, though he did not let it overtake his expression. He hummed a deep sound, lips falling here and there on your neck.

His sugary tone thrilled you to your core. His hinting words and the press of his mouth made a surge of arousal swirl within you. “Perhaps you should just show me,” you urged.

Not wasting another second, his arm around your waist hauled you to him. Your fingers gripping the fur of his cloak, pulling yourself as close as possible to him. Cregan’s mouth met yours frantically. His kiss was hungry, filled with a deep-seated yearning for you that he had tried to ignore.

The heat of the room multiplied. Gone were the frozen winds from outside, a blazing inferno taking its place. That fire churned between you as he kissed you with the roughness you knew lay within him. Once again, you failed to keep up, but you were more than content to let him kiss you into a stupor. His teeth scraping the skin of your bottom lip as he worked on the clasp of your cloak.

Letting the heavy garment fall to the floor at your feet, you shivered at the loss of its warmth. Wanting to level things out, your hands undid the fastening of his, a thrill shooting to you, noticing the eagerness in which he tossed it to the ground.

“Cregan.” You whispered, trembling at the feeling of his hands at your back untying the laces of your dress. The material sagging around your shoulders. Grey stars met your eyes, asking you if he could continue. Nodding your consent, he slid the dress down, never letting his eyes wander as the garment pooled at your feet.

Your shift was the only thing separating your nakedness from his eyes. But you couldn’t help but feel the severe imbalance between you. As he made home in your neck again, your hands went to work on the restraints of his tunic. One by one, the clasps opened for you until you pushed the clothing from his shoulders.

He huffed out a laugh into the skin of your neck that turned into a shudder when your fingers slid under his shirt. You let your hands feel along the corded muscle of his abdomen. Years of hard training formed his body into the mountain of a man that he was now.

You moaned outright when he bit the skin below your ear. His hands mapping out the dips of your curves. Gripping here and there with his digits, unable to help himself when feeling the heat of your skin from beneath the thin shift.

Growing desperate, you started raising his shirt up to say you wanted it off. He untangled himself from you just enough to aid you in lifting it over his head. It joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.

Seeing what was always hidden underneath those layers of thick garments had your head spinning. He was all solid muscle and pure strength. Powerful yes, but knowing that he would never use that power against you in a way to cause harm was exhilarating.

Not being able to help yourself, you let your fingers lightly glide over the impressive map of his stomach. He indulges you for a few moments before your nails scrape along his skin, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. Snatching up your hands, he pulled you flush against him again. He devours your mouth with uncontrolled need. Lust was all but dripping from him, but the underlying affection would not be drowned out. Cregan was a man of few words more often than not, so he preferred to show you all that you meant to him.

Hands taking hold of your hips, he maneuvered you to his bed. His eyes shining with tenderness as you let him lay you down on the mattress. The furs covering the sheets were soft beneath you, surrounding you in a comforting embrace. Cregan stood over you for a moment before going to his knees. Spreading your legs apart, he made home between them, his shoulders coming up under your knees.

He wanted to taste every inch of you, trail his lips and tongue along every curve and sensitive patch of skin he could find. Hands coming up to the straps of your shift, he paused to see you already shaking your head. He grinned to himself as he removed the last bit of fabric hiding you from him. Off your shoulders to reveal your breasts, down your sides to uncover your stomach, and finally letting it fall away to bare your center to him.

“Let me taste you.” He rumbled, his voice dropping deeper than you’d ever heard it. It’s timbre shooting a buzz of delight through you. The heat in your belly grows hotter, filling you with yearning that threatens to break you.

You nodded, feeling the warmth trickle down to your core. “Yes, please.” Those two words were all he needed—your breathy answer coaxing an unquenchable thirst within him. And he intends to drink his fill.

He kissed his way down your body. Guaranteeing you felt every kiss pressed to your skin and every scrap of his teeth. You were growing breathless already, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Anticipation makes your heart thud wildly inside your chest.

His lips gave attention to every plane of your body. Scorching his path from your neck to your breasts, and then to your stomach to make his way to your thighs.

A low grumble crawled up his throat when your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. The heavy pressure of his mouth slid closer up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin there before going over it with his tongue. He could all but smell your arousal now this close to your center. The hunger to dive right in was almost overwhelming. The broad expanse of his shoulders pushed your legs further apart. Settling them over his back, his hand gripped the flesh of your thighs.

As the breath caught in your throat, your stomach swirled with delicious nerves. The warm slick gathered between your thighs was a glittering treasure Cregan took for himself. A surge of self-satisfaction rippled through him.

He takes in the wiggling of your body on his bed and hears the shaky inhales of your breath. Your thighs were twitching in his hold as he sank his teeth into the soft skin once more. You were like silk, smooth under his touch. The difference of his calloused fingers against your velvet skin was pure excellence in his eyes.

The first kiss he gave your slit knocked the breath from your lungs. When he licked a burning stripe up your core, your hearing grew fuzzy. His movements were careful and calculated to push you to the edge of complete insanity.

His arms around your hips went to bring you closer, a groan clawing up his throat as he pursued the pleasure of your cunt. He opened you to him with his tongue, desperate for whatever you granted him. A whine parted your lips as your hands gripped at his hair, your hips chasing the feel of his mouth without you even realizing it.

He was nothing if not formidable, even while he lapped at your wetness like a man starved. Resting between your legs, shoulders tensed with the vigor of his movements. He was solely focused on you, moaning into your center absently like he had never tasted something so sweet. He would spend the rest of his days with his face buried in your cunt if he could.

The heated cord within your belly continuously wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue. His mouth was ravenous, kissing and sucking with urgency, like if he didn’t make you come on his mouth, he would die.

“Cregan.” You sighed, writhing within his hold, causing his arms to grow tighter around you, locking you in place. The feeling was complete euphoria but also the sweetest torture at the same time. You yanked on the dark stands of his hair, urging him closer as if he wasn’t already practically inside you. “Please, don’t stop.” You begged, glancing down to see his starry eyes stuck on you.

He wasn’t about to let such a saccharine request go unanswered. But he also wasn’t going to let you squirm and wiggle about as you pleased. His belly was raging with hot fire, waiting for the chance to be released. His cock strained against his trousers, aching with the need to be inside of you. But he wanted to taste you spilling on his tongue first. He kept up with his heavy strokes against your center, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.

You were like honey on his tongue, surgery and sweet, all for him to devour. Listening to the melody of your whines and moans quickly became his favorite music. It brought him pleasure almost as much as it did you to know the ruinous state he’s gotten you in.

Your legs began to shake around his head, small tremors of ecstasy swimming through you. Cregan raked the path from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before taking it in his mouth. The soft gasps of his name that came from your lips as he sucked on your pearl were maddening. It had his fingers digging harder into the pliant flesh of your thighs, surely leaving bruises he would have to kiss once this was all over.

He was known to all as a stoic and serious man, but when he flicked his silver-hued eyes at you, they were nothing if not a flurry of affection. The sight of you on his bed breathless and lost to the pleasure he was giving you was heart-stopping. He had always thought you to be the prettiest girl he’d ever known, but now he likened you to a goddess. You had bewitched him body and soul.

His mouth still worked over your core. Switching between dipping his tongue into your entrance and wrapping his lips around your clit. Whenever he sucked the nerves in his mouth, he was rewarded with the prettiest sound to ever grace his ears. A high-pitched whine that slowly faded to a deep sigh.

You wanted to close your legs around his head, lock him there for the foreseeable future. But every time you moved your legs, he pried them apart, keeping you open to him so he could lavish his affection upon your cunt. His nose nudged your pearl whenever he dipped further down. You didn’t know how much more you could take. The peak was right there within your grasp; you just needed something to push you the rest of the way.

He was unrelenting, seemingly just as obsessed with bringing you apart with his mouth. A scream ripped past your lips as Cregan took your clit back in his mouth once more. His teeth bit down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, not hard enough to break skin but just enough to shoot a spike of pleasure pain down your spine. He drew his teeth away and soothed your pearl with his tongue.

“Cregan!” You sputtered, hips lurching forward to chase his mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, that any moment now you would burst into flames. Your eyes screwed shut as stars exploded behind your eyelids. He dragged his teeth over your clit again, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. If you weren’t so out of it, you would have worried about pulling his hair out completely. “Do that again.” You pleaded with a trembling breath.

A huff of mild amusement escaped him before he was wrapping his mouth around your pearl and biting. He pulled at it with his teeth only to release it and sooth it over with his tongue. He drew whimper after whimper, moan after moan out of you. All the while, your legs shook around him with the weight of your impending release.

“Gods, I’m close!” A pleading moan tore past your lips, brain going hazy with the mounting pleasure. Your nails dug into his scalp as the cord grew taunt. The roughness didn’t discourage him, though. It merely made him all the more determined to push you over into oblivion.

“Please.” You spoke out into the air. A few more moments of his ministrations: bite, pull, sooth, suck. The cord snapped. A sharp gasp sounded from you as you shook like you were back in the cold winds outside. Everything spilled over; goosebumps erupted over your flesh. The heated tidal wave of your release rushing along your body. The sheer power of it having your back arching from the bed.

It felt as if your body was humming as your peak subsided slowly. Sinking back upon the furs, you untangled your fingers from Cregan’s hair. He was still gently lapping at your wetness as you reluctantly pushed him away. He lifted his head, eyes looking upon you with such reverence.

He kissed his way up your thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the bruises he’d left. His lips were soft and caring on your sensitive skin. As he made his way further upwards, he pressed his face into your stomach. “I love you.” He whispered so faintly into your skin you weren’t sure if he even realized he said it.

“What?” You gasped, going up on your elbows to look at him. Face still buried in your middle, he murmured it again. This time raising his eyes to gauge your reaction. “You do?” You mumbled, becoming flustered all over again.

He crawled over you, covering your body beneath his burly physique as he claimed your lips. Your hand went to his cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I do,” he husked. You took a moment to look at him, his eyes shining with adoration. “You still doubt my affections?”

You’re shaking your head instantly. “No,” you protest. “I simply didn’t expect you to say that.” You were grinning like a fool, mouth curved upwards in a beaming smile. He returned it, with one albeit smaller than yours, but it was still all him. You laughed into the kiss he gave you as he situated himself back between your legs.

“Allow me to show you then.” He spoke in a hushed voice. All you had to do was nod, and he was shucking off his breeches, kicking them from the bed.

You couldn’t see him, but you felt him big and hard against your thigh. Nerves swirled within you—not that he would ever hurt you intentionally, but that there would be no way around it hurting. You knew he would put your well-being above all else, though.

The barely-there smile still rested upon his face. “You’re still smiling.” You point out completely besotted with this mountain of a man.

“Hush woman.” He let out a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. It was difficult to keep up his stone-like appearance in your presence. It always had been, but with your wide eyes looking up at him still hazy with pleasure, it was increasingly harder.

Bodies aligned and chests pressed against each other, you leaned up your lips searching for him, wanting another kiss. The kiss was as sweet as honey, soft as silk, much like you. From deep within his throat, a low rumble of approval echoed, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he returned the kiss with fervor.

You went to wrap your arms around his shoulders and found you could barely touch your hands together at the nape of his neck. Still though, it didn’t stop you from racking your nails across his skin. Hoping it would spurn him on. His cock rocked against your thigh, tip hitting your core for a split second.

“Patience, my girl.” He warned, rough palm soothing back your hair. “Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed a line across your collarbone, nose skimming along your skin. You felt him slide up along your thigh, the tip nudging at your entrance again. Just that little friction had shivers racing up and down your spine.

He canted his hips forward, pushing just slightly into your cunt. He was as big as he seemed evidently; the sting spread further as he slid in slowly. Inch by inch, with every ridge and vein feeling like it was being imprinted inside you. Once he was half way seated, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. A faint grunt of discomfort slipped past you. Your hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly.

He paused, looking down at you. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Keep going. I’m alright.” You promised, loosening your hold on him. He pressed a soothing kiss to your hairline before he pressed forward again.

Having him inside you even halfway was something you would have to get used to. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; the stretch and sting were fading already. Once he was fully inside, the feeling of him filling you was almost overwhelming in the best ways. Cregan gave you ample time to adjust, holding himself back from rutting into you. He never wished to harm you, even if your warm tightness was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt.

You tested your limits by rolling your hips to meet his. A hiss left the both of you as his cock slid even deeper, hitting some part of you that had you seeing stars. “Move.” You urged, back arching to press against him.

He drew out only to snap his hips forward, driving himself back in. Taking care to be as gentle as he could, he began a harsh but deep hitting pace. He was ardent in his lovemaking, cock thrusting into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He was keeping good on his promise to show you just how much he loved you.

You wrapped a leg around his hips, his hand instantly going to hold it in place. Fingers lightly running across your skin. Your other leg spread wider for him, giving him as much room as you could to accommodate his size. A melody of whines and gasps flew from you with every thrust. Your nails running down the rippling strength of his back.

His face was hidden in your neck, lips assaulting your skin. Bruising kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Teeth joining to nip here and there, leaving marks that you would deal with later. He pounded into you with equal fervor and tenderness. Cregan was nothing if not devoted in all things, so each thrust was measured to ensure he seated himself fully inside you every time.

With the whole of Winterfell in the great hall or asleep, you worried not about concealing the volume of your moans. Needy whines and whimpers left you, one after the other. A particularly harsh snap of his hips had you stuttering out his name. You felt like you were being split in two, but it was the most pleasurable thing you’d ever experienced.

The friction of your bodies sliding together was addicting. Each glide of his cock along your innerwalls drove you closer and closer to another peak. Walls tightening around him, drawing a muffled curse, he spoke into your neck. Your hands went to his hair once again, bringing his mouth to yours. You kissed him as his cock kissed your womb. Your lips molded together as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh.

You nipped at his bottom lips as he had done to you, causing a growl to rumble up his throat. There was urgency about him now, with his release building and building buzzing at the base of his spine.

He dropped the hold on your thigh, planting his weight on his forearms by your head. Using the leverage to rut inside you at a faster and deeper pace. Intensity danced between you as his cock drove into you, seated fully inside you, then pulling out only to plunge back in.

There was an almost divine feeling to being inside of you. As if Cregan was made for you and you were made for him. He had to wed you, had to say the vows beneath the Weirwood tree, and make you his wife. His Lady of Winterfell.

He groaned at the thought, snatching your lips between his own for another blazing kiss. Teeth knocking together and tongues sliding over each other—this was not a romantic kiss. It was full of base needs and wants. The drive to claim you as his and never give another man the chance to see you like this. You were his.

“Cregan please.” You pleaded into his mouth, your breath mingling together. He didn’t relent; your whispered appeal only spurred him on. He was aching and pulsing inside you. Cock thrusting so deeply, he vaguely pictured you struggling to walk in the morning. The thought sent a smug ripple down his spine. Your thighs were trembling, and with this being your first time taking him, you very likely will be sore.

“Do you have another in you?” He huffed out the question. His release was just within his reach, but he wanted to feel you gush around him first. Have the tightness of your walls gripping him like steel as he pushes into you for the last time before spilling his seed.

“Mhm.” You hummed around your harmony of whimpers and gasps. You rolled your hips to meet his as if to further prove what you wanted. The friction doing delicious things to the both of you.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d sunk into you. It was too many to keep up with. But the look that glimmered in his eyes told you it wouldn’t be much longer until another rush of euphoria greeted you.

His cock battered into you, his pace becoming faster than before. His hands moved from beside your head to grip your hips. Fingers sliding under to hold the small of your back, he lifted you slightly off the bed. The new angle had him hitting that spot within you that had you writhing up to meet him. Your senses became cloudy with nothing but the feeling of him inside breaking through.

“That’s it, my girl.” He husked out, feeling you shudder beneath him as your cunt clamped down on his length. He kept up his pace, racing after his own peak. Lowering you back down to rest on the furs again, he groaned heavy and hot into your neck as he spilled inside of you. The warmth exploded at the base of his spine and spread. Keeping his hips moving to help you both ride out your pleasure, he thrusted into you a few more times.

You whimpered as he withdrew from you, but he was quick to soothe you with a slow kiss to your lips. You fingers threaded through his brown tresses holding him to you. The display was all care and affection, a stark contrast to the intense moment between you just seconds ago.

When he rolled off you, he didn’t go far, his large form laying out beside you and drawing you to his side. His strong arm slung around you, locking you to his side.

An easy silence fell over you as you both regained your senses. The aftermath of your coupling filled to tender caresses of hands over heated skin. Soft presses of his lips upon your jaw, making your head relax into the pillow.

You weren’t aware of how much time passed before a halting thought crossed your mind. “Should I not leave?” You asked. Cregan furrowed his brows at you as if you were speaking in riddles. “There will surely be whispers if I am seen in your chambers in the morning,” you clarified.

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. His hold on you becomes tighter and a touch more protective. “You will be my wife soon enough. Whatever any of my people have to say about it, they will do well to make sure I do not hear of it.”

Completely smitten with him as well as his response, you choose not to argue. Much preferring to settle back into his warmth and spend the night caged within his arms.

I think this is the longest fic I have ever wrote, but I'm in love with it.

﹙taglist﹚@madame-fear

#house of the dragon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #hotd #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark fanfic

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starkwlkr · 4 months ago

Note

No smut! But could you please write about Hugh’s wife bein asked about his exquisite physique in Deadpool and Wolverine?😜

fine indeed | hugh jackman

an: anon, thank you for this request you made me go on titkok and save almost every logan edit 😭

“I feel like I’m obligated to ask you, especially after a certain scene,” Jimmy Fallon chuckled. “Have you’ve seen Deadpool and Wolverine?”

That was the big question lately. You didn’t mind at all, you were proud of Hugh and always supported him. After the movie’s release, all anyone talked about was the ending where Hugh was shirtless.

“Yes, I have. I was at the premiere with Hugh,” you had an idea on where this interview was going. “Can I just say that I’ve gotten so many messages from friends and family about how jacked Hugh looks. One of my friends texted after she saw the movie and she’s like ‘since when was Hugh built like that? i can’t look at him the same now’.”

Then Jimmy took out a picture of Hugh posing without his top part of the suit. “I mean look at this! That’s your man!”

“That’s my man!” You smirked. The audience laughed.

“Were you on set for that scene? I know Hugh said that was one of the last scenes he filmed.” Jimmy said, putting the photo down.

“I wasn’t,” you frowned. “He actually wanted me to be on set that day so bad, but he didn’t tell me why.” You explained.

“Now you know!”

“Yup, but I think the day the filmed that scene i was with our daughter in New York and he was in LA.” You explained.

“And have you seen all the memes about it? Because it’s all over social media. You can’t escape Hugh Jackman.” Jimmy pulled out pictures of some tweets.

This is not funny anymore, he can’t keep getting away with this

that scene changed me as a woman

y/n is your husband single?

“Girl, it changed me too and I am married to him,” you blushed as the fact that you were the only one that could say you were married to Hugh. “But he spent so many months training and it payed off. Definitely makes you forget he’s 55.”

“You know there’s multiple tweets saying he’s beekeeping age. What do you have to say about that?” Jimmy asked.

“I can’t . . . say it on tv.”

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @ru-kru @evasmlp

#hugh jackman blurb #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman imagine #marvel actress!reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman #actress!reader

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

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pedroscurls · 2 months ago

Note

Absolutely no obligation to answer if you aren't taking requests, but could I ask for Hugh x reader? Like Blake and Ryan trying hard to play wingman for them both at an event, only to find out the two have been quietly together/hooking up for a few weeks? Whether it be angsty or fluffy is your choice! 🙂

our little secret (one-shot)

summary: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni) - unprotected p in v (creampie oops, be safe folks), fingering, oral - f receiving, hugh bends you over 🙂‍↕️, no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: i'm catching up to all the requests that have been sitting in my askbox, so thank you for waiting on this! i know you said it could be angsty or fluffy, but it actually instead became smutty lmao. i had a lot of fun writing this lol - love the sneaking around and eventually getting caught trope 🤭 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

The entire night, you and Hugh steal glances from across the room. Either he’s with Ryan or some other group of people that he’s talking to and you’re either with Blake or on the dance floor dancing with her. You can feel the pull you have towards Hugh, yearning to be pulled into his arms but you have to refrain. You have to resist.

No one knows that you’re seeing each other, that you’ve been secretly having a very intimate relationship with him. Neither of you are ready for everyone else to know, so you try to keep your distance. Try not to make it so obvious that you just want him.

“I think you and Hugh should go talk,” Blake grins, nudging you with her arm.

You shrug nonchalantly, doing your best to look uninterested. “I don’t know, Blake.”

“Just one conversation,” she says. “You never know what can happen.”

Oh, you know exactly what would happen. If you and Hugh get a chance to speak tonight, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide this secret any longer. Especially since the entire time so far, you’ve been trying to think of ways to sneak away from Blake and see Hugh. It’s such a busy event, such a huge party that even if you did try to sneak away with Hugh, someone would see the both of you.

And neither of you need that right now.

“If we somehow get to talking, then sure. Right now, I’m just focused on me.”

Blake narrows her eyes. “I can bring him over here and–”

“Blake,” you interrupt. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

Blake sighs. “Fine, okay. But if he comes up to you on his own, you’ll at least talk to him?”

“Sure. Would be rude of me to just leave if he tries to have a conversation with me,” you point out.

“Ryan and I just think you’d be so good together,” she replies.

“You think I’d be good with anyone,” you laugh.

“That’s because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Aw, Blake… It’s a bit early for all these compliments, don’t you think?” you tease.

Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I usually need a couple of more drinks before I get to that point.”

“Okay, ha ha. Can we go back out there and dance?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go.” She takes your hand and leads you to the dancefloor, glancing over her shoulder to see Ryan and Hugh staring at the both of you.

—

“So…” Ryan smirks, watching the way Hugh’s eyes linger on your frame. “You obviously think she’s–”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling his eyes away from you. When Hugh saw you for the first time that night, he had realized just how difficult it would be to keep things a secret. You look so beautiful, the dress clinging to every curve, and he wanted nothing more than to just take you away from this party so that he could have you to himself.

But Hugh tries to remember the conversation you had with him. This has to be a secret for a little while longer, just to see if this is more than just physical attraction. Hugh agreed, but the more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to get to know you. The sex was amazing, but the conversations you had with each other afterwards were just as great.

“Oh come on!” Ryan chuckles. “You should at least talk to her.”

“Not interested,” Hugh lies. “Besides, I already talked to her at your dinner party. She’s nice, sweet, but that’s all it is.”

Ryan arches a brow. “Seemed like you two hit it off that night.”

“Just being polite,” Hugh replies.

“Well, I think you should go and talk to her. See what can happen.”

“Ryan, no.” His eyes deviate to you and he tries to keep his eyes above your shoulder, but he can’t help but let his eyes take in your frame, your hips swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the song. Clearing his throat, Hugh shakes his head and instead turns his back to the dancefloor.

“Let me be your wingman, Hugh,” he says excitedly. “All we gotta do is walk over there, dance a bit, and then–”

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Hugh interjects with a sigh. He knows if he stands here another minute that he’s going to break and he’s going to give in to Ryan because he wants you so badly. Even as he’s walking away from Ryan, he turns to look over his shoulder to see your eyes glued onto him. He gives you a subtle nod and steps outside, glancing around to see that no one but him is there.

With a sigh, he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. Hugh likes you a lot and he’s become tired of keeping this, keeping you a secret. His mind begins to drift when he feels a gentle hand on his back and he turns to look down at you, a smile immediately lining his lips.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say quietly.

Even under the moonlight, you look so beautiful. Hugh reaches out for your hand, yearning to pull you into him and give you a kiss. “You’re really killing me with that dress you got on.”

“You like?” you smile, twirling in front of him.

“Oh, I love it,” Hugh winks. “Would look better if it was on the floor.”

“Oh, you’re naughty tonight.” you let out a quiet giggle. “What would you do if I told you I wasn’t wearing any panties?”

Hugh’s eyes widen and his gaze darkens. “Are you?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nope.”

“And you’re calling me the naughty one,” Hugh whispers, taking a step closer to you as his other hand moves to your hip, bunching up your dress in a tight fist. “Ryan’s been trying to get me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you ask quietly, hand moving up to rest on his chest. “Blake’s been doing the same. I think they’re trying to play matchmaker.”

“They don’t know we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks,” Hugh chuckles, eyes drifting to your lips. “But seeing you tonight… It’s been really difficult to keep this a secret.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I see how the other women are looking at you tonight and I can’t blame them.”

“Not looking at them though.”

“But if you want to, you know you can… We aren’t really exclusive and–”

“I want to be,” Hugh interrupts. “I know we’re still testing out the waters, seeing if this is only physical, but I like you.”

“You know, I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight…” you say quietly.

“Am I misreading this?” Hugh sighs, pulling away from you but you pull him back to you.

“No, I like you too. I just didn’t–” you bite your lower lip. “I just didn’t want to scare you away if I told you that I want this. That I want you. Only you.”

Hugh tries to hide the smile from appearing on his lips. He looks into your eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“I do…”

Hugh then steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Good because I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your hand moves up to gently grip the lapel of his jacket. “Please,” you whisper. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night and–”

Hugh leans down and presses his lips against yours, hand gripping your hip. He wastes no time in moving his lips with yours, hand slowly dipping lower and lower to your backside. You gasp against his lips, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“Mmm, not yet,” you whisper, pulling away slowly.

Hugh’s about to lean in to give you another kiss when you both hear Blake and Ryan’s voices.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryan quips, finger pointing in your direction.

“And here we were, trying to get you two together!” Blake laughs.

You lean against Hugh whose arm still remains wrapped around you. “Surprise?”

Blake rolls her eyes playfully and walks up to you, pulling you into a hug. “Surprise indeed.”

Ryan grins, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “So, how long?”

“Since the night of your dinner party,” Hugh chuckles.

“You fucker,” Ryan laughs.

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” you say quietly, reaching out for Hugh’s hand. “But–”

“I like her a lot,” Hugh interrupts, lacing his hand with yours. “Didn’t want to hide this anymore.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you,” Blake smiles.

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I owe my girl a dance,” Hugh winks. He leads you back inside of the party and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Blake and Ryan join the both of you and once on the dance floor, Hugh turns you around in his arms, hands moving to rest on your hips as your bodies begin to sway to the music. It’s dark and the music is blaring, but your sole focus is on Hugh who’s staring directly back at you.

He runs his hands along your sides and back down to your hips, bringing you flush against his front as you feel the length of manhood hardening beneath his pants. You bite your lower lip, arms coming up to snake around his shoulders and link at the base of his neck.

Hugh dips his head lower, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He moves a hand to your lower back as the crowd of people surrounding the both of you fades into the background. He gently nips at your lower lip, hearing you quietly whimper. His lips move from your own to your jawline, coming up to gently nibble on your ear as he whispers huskily.

“I need you bad, baby.”

“But the party–”

“How about we leave early?” Hugh runs his hand up your back and down to rest above your backside.

“What about Blake and Ryan?”

Hugh looks over at the other couple who look to be in their own little world and he chuckles, turning his attention back to you. “I don’t think they’d mind one bit if we leave.”

You bite your lower lip and then nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Take me home then, Hugh.”

“Yes,” he groans lowly. “I’ve been wanting to take you home the moment I saw you tonight. Let’s go.”

—

You don’t make it far once you and Hugh enter his place. He’s on you like a starved animal, hands running along your frame, lips lightly attacking your neck and shoulder. You can feel his length pressing into you from behind as he shrugs off his blazer.

“You make me crazy, baby,” Hugh growls, gently grazing the skin at your neck with his teeth. “Like a fucking teenager all over again.”

“Hugh, baby,” you whimper. “Wait, we should go upstairs and–”

“No,” he groans against you. “Right here.” Hugh bends you over the back of his large couch, immediately lifting the ends of your dress to your hips, giving him a clear view of your backside and your glistening slit. “You weren’t lying… no panties.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hugh glances up at you briefly before he drops to his knees in front of you. His large hands come up to spread your cheeks apart as he licks a strip along your sex, groaning against you.

“Hugh!” You exclaim, hand reaching back to curl into his hair.

“Mmm,” Hugh pulls back and looks at your sex, gaze darkening at the sight of you glistening for him. “Gonna have my taste now, baby.”

Before you could even answer, Hugh leans in and buries his face between your legs. He doesn’t bother to slow down, groaning against your sex as you feel his tongue in your most sensitive areas. You’re close, knowing that you aren’t going to last that long with the way Hugh’s going.

He pulls back momentarily, chin glistening with your arousal as he immediately slides two fingers into your tight heat. Hugh then leans back in and sucks your clit in time with pumping his fingers in and out of you and you’re so wet that the sounds mix in with your loud moans. It’s so lewd and obscene and it only spurs him on even further.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your walls begin to tremble. When you feel a tightness begin to build in the pit of your stomach, you grip his hair even tighter, holding him firmly against you. Your eyes clamp shut as Hugh continues his assault on you, urging you through your orgasm.

Hugh then pulls back and stands up between your legs, his hands coming to undo his belt and zipper of his pants. His fingers are wet with your slick and he lifts to his mouth and sucks on it as his eyes stare directly at your throbbing heat.

Once he pulls his manhood out, he gives it a few strokes before notching his tip at your entrance. He feels you flinch at the sudden touch, smirking to himself.

“Hugh, wait. I need a minute.” You tell him, trying to turn around but Hugh keeps you firmly bent over the couch.

“Ah baby, you can handle it.” He grins, running his tip along the length of your sex, catching your hole repeatedly.

“Hugh,” you plead, reaching back for him but he just grabs your wrists and places them firmly against your lower back. With his free hand, he slowly slides into your tight heat, the slickness of your arousal immediately coating his length with each thrust forward.

He releases his hold on manhood and instead moves to place it on the couch, gripping it tightly. Hugh fills you to the brim, groaning to himself at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him.

“See, told you,” he grins, pulling his hips back. Hugh pulls out to his tip, glancing down to see his length slick with your wetness. Then, he slowly slides back in and grips the couch even tighter, not wanting to leave any bruises on your wrists that remain firm in his grasp.

“Fuck!” You moan aloud. Your walls are already so sensitive and you know that you won’t last long with the way Hugh’s picking up his pace.

“God, you look good like this,” Hugh groans, thrusts moving faster as he repeatedly slams into you. You feel every inch, every throbbing vein and when he firmly slams into you, you move your ass back against him and feel the hair at his base provide the perfect friction against your clit.

He pulls back only enough to see you slide back into him, watching your ass shake and jiggle as you use him to reach yet another orgasm. Hugh knows that he’s getting closer, knows that he’s about to come but he tries to hold off because the sight of you using him like this for your own pleasure just turns him on even more.

“Baby,” Hugh groans. “I’m gonna come and I–”

“Inside,” you whimper.

Hugh feels a sudden rush overcome him at your confirmation and he releases his hold on your wrists to place both hands on your hips. He groans and begins to thrust back into you, his skin slapping loudly against yours as he chases his own release.

“Hugh, baby,” you moan, moving your own hands to rest over his as pleasure washes over you. Your body feels limp, feels like you can just fall asleep bent over this couch, but Hugh’s sharp thrusts work you through your own orgasm.

After a couple of thrusts, Hugh’s hips begin to stutter and you feel his warmth begin to fill you up. His grip on your hips tighten almost painfully as he empties himself into you, every last fucking drop.

When he pulls out, Hugh can’t help the sight of his release slowly begin to trickle out of you and down the inside of your leg. He smiles to himself, gently loosening his hold on you as he turns you around to face him.

“I don’t think I can walk upstairs,” you tease.

Hugh smirks proudly. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby.”

—-

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #real person fic #real person fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: our little secret

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bugsbia · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!! Could you write mean, harbinger Scara with a breeding kink? Just him bending reader (fem) over any surface and fucking them into overstimulation <3

Thank you in advance ❤️💖

ʚ Scaramouche x reader smut

ʚ BEFORE READING: I've been inactive for a long time now due to life being life but I do fanfic comms, $8 for minimum 2k words, including nsfw fanfic so just message or inbox if you're interested.

ʚ WARNINGS: usage of the words slut and whore, degradation, breeding, mentions of carrying his heir/baby, didn't proof read.

You felt his fingers trailing up your waist, calloused hands slowly pushing your shirt up. How you got here is a question of its own; you have no idea really. Your night started simple, having attended another boring work party.

That was until your boss approached you, pulling you away into his office. Probably to discuss a new hire or some other work bullshit you'd forget within a few hours. Either way you followed, it wasn't like you had much of an option to begin with anyway, unless you wanted to be fired.

And that's how you got here—his hands on your body, lips against your neck as you lay beneath him. Maybe you both drank too much, or maybe the mutual attraction had been left unattended all too long; all you knew was that it felt heavenly.

He slipped your shirt off, gazing down at your form, admiring every curve of your body. "So utterly perfect," he murmured as he unclipped your bra, taking it off of you and throwing it off to the side before leaning down, swirling his tongue around your nipple.

Soft noises escaped your lips, whimpers, and hushed moans at the sensation of his tongue working so hungrily against your heated flesh. "Scara..." you breathed out, a breathy moan of desperation for more.

He was happy to oblige as he pulled away, not hesitating to flip you over and bend you over his desk, his fingers quickly slipping beneath your skirt and hiking it up around your waist.

"Such a pretty sight," he spoke under his breath, more so to himself than you as he slapped your ass, his harsh slap leaving a nice red mark on your skin.

He quickly unzipped his pants, not even bothering to take them off fully as he began rubbing his throbbing erection against your ass, a satisfied groan escaping his lips.

Snaking his hand around your body, he wrapped one hand around your throat, the other pushing your panties down your legs as he made quick work to rub the head of his cock against your slick folds.

"You're gonna take it, and you're gonna love it," he whispered against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as he finally pushed inside you. Burying himself balls deep in your warmth with a groan of satisfaction.

He spared you some kindness, letting you adjust to his size, but only for a moment before he began moving. Pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you, his harsh movements causing your entire body to jerk with every thrust.

"Such a slut, letting your boss fuck you like this. You've been wanting this, haven't you? Dumb whore." His words were harsh, yet they only seemed to arouse you further, and he could tell; he could feel the way you clenched around his shaft; he could hear those noises of pleasure that fell from your lips.

It spurred him on, his movements only seeming to grow harsher as he pounded into your, his hand on your throat tightening slightly, but not enough to actually hurt you.

"Take it, take every inch of me." He murmured, "I'm gonna breed you; fill you up with my cum until you carry my baby. You like the idea of that? Carrying my heir like the breeding bitch you are?"

His words combined with his harsh thrusts made your head spin, pleasure clouding your mind as he took you from behind; his hand on your throat only added to it all, making you slightly dizzy.

Releasing your throat, his hand moved between your thighs, rubbing your clit harshly as he sought to make you cum. "Cum," he demanded harshly, "cum for me now you slut."

You couldn't hold it back; his cock plunging deep inside you combined with his quick movements against your clit sent you spiralling over the edge. Sweet moans of his name fell from your lips as you came around his cock.

That didn't cause him to slow down at all; if anything, it made him go harder. He didn't give you a single second to calm from your high; he only thrusted harsher, positioning himself so he could hit even deeper.

"You're so fucking tight when you cum; keep going and I won't be able to hold back." His words came with a harsh slap against your ass, his other hand still rubbing against your clitoral.

It was becoming too much; you couldn't help but let a few whimpers and whines out at the intensity of it all. It felt too good; you wanted it to stop, but at the same time you didn't; it was driving you crazy.

"You're whining like a bitch; you can't handle it, can you?" He spat harshly; his words were mocking. "Too bad, because I won't be stopping anytime soon."

Pleasure started to combine with pain; it hurt, but it hurt so good, so addictingly. Tears built up in your eyes from the pleasure and pain, and it earned a sadistic laugh from Scaramouche.

Slapping your ass, he spoke again, "Crying already?" His question was sarcastic. He didn't care if you were crying; if anything, it only aroused him further.

His cock twitched inside you. "Fuck," he stammered, feeling himself grow closer to the edge of cumming; he couldn't hold back much longer, not when you looked so pathetically perfect beneath him.

Scaramouche dug his hands into your hair, pulling your head back as his thrusts grew sloppy and desperate. "You're gonna take every last drop like the good slut you are."

A string of curses and moans spilt from his lips as he finally came, "That's it, I'm going to fill you up, he whispered breathily against your ear as his cum flooded your pussy, his hand tightening in your hair.

He rested his head against your shoulder as he came down from his high, finally releasing your hair and letting your head rest against his desk while his cock remained buried deep inside you.

"We're not done yet," he said as he straightened up, his hands moving to grip your waist as he grinded into you again, groaning with pleasure.

Still without giving you much time to recover, he began thrusting inside you again, but this time it was more desperate; he had passed the point of caring; right now all he cared about was satisfying his desire and breeding you.

Seeing how overstimulated you were didn't deter him at all; he revelled in the way you squirmed and whined beneath him; it drove him wild with desire. Your tears are fuelling his perverse desires and making him crave you more than he already did.

His hand snaked between your thighs again, but this time his movements were slow. It was tantilizing; his slow fingers left you wanting more but were also too much to handle.

Your hips bucked against his hand, automatically reacting to his torturous stimulation as you whined again, more tears spilling from your eyes.

"You're so pathetic; can't even handle me for this long?" He mocked, moving his fingers faster against your clitter but only for a few seconds before slowing again.

A sadistic chuckle escaped his lips. He revelled in your painful pleasure; your pitiful state was nothing but perfection to him. His perfect and smart little assistant is now a crying mess beneath him, all while pleasuring him.

He couldn't hold on too long at this point; you just felt so good wrapped around him, and you'd feel even better cumming again. His fingers moved quicker, eager to push you over the edge so he could feel you clench around him, even if you couldn't handle it.

You weakly tried to protest; although your protests were half-hearted, you craved this pleasure even if it felt like torture, and despite your weak protest, his fingers continued.

His fingers continued until you couldn't hold back anymore, gasping loudly as you came around his cock again. The release felt so painfully good, and it only caused more tears to spill from your eyes.

Feeling your pussyclench around his cock again, Scaramouche was also pushed over the edge, his hand falling from your clit to grip your waist painfully as he reached his peak.

His nails dug into your waist as he thrusted sloppily into you. "Fuck, just like that, you slut," he whispered, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your welcoming heat once again. Some of it spills out and drips down your thighs.

Pulling out, he stepped back to admire the sight for a moment—your sweaty and trembling body, his cum spilling from your pussy. He slapped your ass again. "Clean yourself up," he spoke as he cleaned himself off and quickly zipped his pants up again.

"I'll see you again tomorrow," he said while tossing you a cloth to clean yourself off with. He then turned away, leaving you alone to deal with the mess, but also with the promise of more tomorrow.

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yourstrulyrika · 11 months ago

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soft sex with leon kennedy ♡

ahhh i love this man. comfort character fr.

anyway no warnings. fem!reader and lots of love praise and aftercare :3 smut below the cut! probably the longest fic i ever wrote so pls tell me if it’s actually decent. i’m not used to writing long fics

a reminder rqs are open btw :3

Leon struggles with telling you how much he loves you. He’s always been a man of few words since you knew him. does that mean he doesn’t love you? no way in hell. he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

It’s visible with the way he’s so gentle with you. When holding you, when talking to you, sleeping with you, making love with you.

Because Leon doesn’t fuck; he’s making love.

he’s so gentle, putting you on a pedestal, treating you like a queen you are. his eyes are on you as he kneels down in front of you, hands already on thighs and gently squeezing them. you swear you can see little hearts in his eyes with how in love he is with you.

“That’s it baby, so good for me. Always so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.” and he’s saying this so lovingly as he takes his time with you. first, he places loving kisses all over your thighs, mumbling how much he loves you after each kiss. he finally tugs off your panties and lifts your thighs up, letting out a soft moan at the sight in front of him.

“Good girl. Love you so much, princess, can’t believe you’re mine.” with those words, he places your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in your puffy cunt. he loves it there, loves when you close your thighs around his head. he presses light kisses on your clit, going down to finally dive in and eat you out like a starved man he is. truth be told, when he’s between your legs, he always loses himself, always in his own world with how good it feels for him. always praising you, even when it’s barely audible.

“Mm, fuck, you’re just perfect aren’t you? Sweet girl. Just sit there and let me take care of you.” he loves your taste. always spends so much time on your pussy, making you come at least two times before he even thinks of himself.

when you start trembling, he knows you’re close. he speeds up his movements, clumsily reaching out to hold your hand as his hand rests on your thigh. and then you cum — and he feels like heaven’s greeting him right now. you’re squirming, because you’re sensitive and yet he never stops eating you out; quite the opposite. he makes it a challenge to make you cum faster than the orgasm before the next one. with how sensitive you are it’s not hard — he starts fingering you, gently curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot that makes you spread and lift your legs higher.

“Could spend forever between your legs, love. Fuck, you taste too good for your own good. How can I not grow drunk on you?” all he thinks about in this moment is you, you, you — your face, your pussy, your hand tugging on his hair. he loves when you do that, loves when you use him for your pleasure.

“That’s it, angel. Jus’ use me all you want, ‘m all yours, my cock is yours, everything I own is yours. ‘m here to please you, baby, please,” he actually starts to get whiny at his own words — cock so hard it’s throbbing against his stomach but he just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again. he has to see you cum again — it’s like a blessing to him.

when you finally cum, he has this big, proud grin on his face, eyes hazy but full of love for you. you can notice just how hard he is — and yet he doesn’t care until you ask him to slide in. of course he’ll oblige, anything for his princess.

he reaches out to take your hand in his again, guiding his cock inside with the other. both of you moan at the same time, you because you feel him snug so well inside, him because he feels your gummy, warm walls already wrapping around him like a blanket. he feels like he’s about to cum right there and now, but he holds back, wanting to make you cum again.

“Fuck, you’re made for me. You’re so perfect, I love you so much. You feel so damn good.”

Leon’s not rushing it. his pace is actually pretty balanced, not wanting to overwhelm you. he peppers your neck with gentle love bites and hickeys, all the way to your chest where he sucks your nipples like his life depended on it. fondles your breast with one hand, sucking on the other one while still holding your hand. he’s searching for that spot you love so well — and when he finds it, he’s so proud of himself.

“Right there baby? Yeah? Good girl, taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” he’s adjusting his position, arching his hips to just hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly until he feels you squirming.

he loves being drunk on you, he loves drowning himself in you, your embrace, your scent. he loves everything about you. the way you scratch his back, dig your fingers in when you’re close — he moans so loudly at that you’re almost surprised if it wasn’t for him thrusting in you so well. you two are so close, but he cums right after you do — he wouldn’t dare cum before you.

he stays inside you for a moment, just staring into you lovingly. he presses a sweet kiss to your head, before slowly pulling out and picking you up.

“Cmon, babygirl. Did so well for me, time to take care of you.”

he carries you to the bathroom, cleans you up, makes sure you’re hydrated, well fed and clean before actually tucking you in bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest so you feel his heartbeat as you come down from your high.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

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b3ach-bunn7 · 2 months ago

Text

DONT SMILE

Dabi is your unfairly attractive bandmate, and the two of you stay late in the studio to finish a song (and each other)

NSFW, BandAU, head on both ends if u get my drift

(Guys this is my first time writing smut plz be nice 🙏)

(Also song used in the fic + title is don’t smile by Sabrina c plz listen)

—————————————————————————

The sound of Dabi absentmindedly plucking his bass fills the studio. He’s lounging across the couch, legs holding up the dark blue instrument as his fingers drag over the frets lazily. He’s wearing a vest, the white fabric stretched tight over his skin. The jeans he’s wearing are slung low on his hips, and you avert your eyes as he adjusts them, hips lifting from their place on the couch to drag them down.

You’re on the other end of the room, swinging back and forth on a desk chair. The room is hot. The studio was small, the same one your band, LOV, had started out in. Despite being more than popular enough to rent something bigger, there’s a weird obligation you all feel, too attached to where you started to ever leave. You and Dabi are supposed to be writing new songs, working on stuff for the upcoming album, but you’re not bothered. You can’t think. As the lead singer, lyrics are usually your forte but you’ve got no energy for it. The others aren’t even here, and that only makes you want to work even less. That, and the fact that Dabi is an ample distraction.

He groans from the couch. You glance at him over your shoulder. He’s looking at you impatiently.

“Let’s go home. I’m sick of this shit.”

You sigh, leaning your head back on the chair. “No, we have to stay. We haven’t written anything in ages.”

“Uhm, speak for yourself. I have some things. Riffs.” He plays something small to demonstrate and you roll your eyes.

“And how is that any help without everyone else here? We need all instruments present to actually make a song.”

Dabi huffs. He places the bass to the side, stretching. His arms reach above his head, shirt lifting up to reveal his happy trail and you sigh.

Of course Dabi is attractive. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. And yes, you also find his personality attractive. He was funny, that calm confidence he always spoke in, his flirty nature, it was all alluring. You’d see him dragging enough girls out the tour bus in the mornings to know you aren’t the only one who feels this way. Unfortunately though, the amount of women he’d been with, plus the fact it’s never a good idea to date a bandmate, means you keep your distance.

This doesn’t stop him from flirting with you at every available second. You’d like to say that you’re immune to it, but that unfaltering attention from Dabi isn’t something you think you could ever get used to.

“What about you? You got any lyrics down?” He asks.

You frown. You walk over to him, nudging his legs over. You sit next to him and he leans over your shoulder to read the scribbled notes you’d been writing the past couple hours. You huff, pushing his leg further away from yours. It’s currently pressed flush against yours, and his thigh is warm. He’s always so warm.

“Can you stop manspreading?” You mumble, pushing his leg away.

“Aw, you know you love it.” He grins, leaning even closer, eyes never leaving your notes.

You roll your eyes, but you don’t do much to fight the close proximity. His hand reaches up to stabilise the paper and his fingertips brush the back of your hand.

“Mediocre.”

You gape. “Mediocre? I’d like to see you write any better.” You snatch the paper from him and he shrugs.

“It's not bad. It’s just too sappy. Nobody believes that romantic shit is actually real.” He says.

You bite your lip, thinking. Dabi’s criticism is enough to have you doubting the whole song, and you groan. “Why did you have to say that? Now I hate it.”

“Good.”

You knock his side with your elbow and he tuts.

“You asked.”

“I didn’t.” You go to elbow him again but he grabs it before you can. You think you can feel the callouses on the tips of his fingers as his hand touches your bare skin. You shrug him off.

“You asked to see, but I didn’t ask for any feedback.” You say.

Dabi sits up slightly. He tilts his head, strands of black hair dipping to the side. His eyes flit over you quickly.

“Well. We’re a team, no? Don’t you want my feedback?”

You lean your head against the back of the couch. “I guess.”

He reaches over to grab the paper again. “Good girl.”

You flush slightly. “Don’t call me that.”

“You love it.”

You decide it’s better for the both of you if you don’t answer that. You look at the vinyl hung up on the walls, the pictures of you guys at award shows. Anything to distract you from the man sitting next to you.

“I think you should flip it.”

You turn to him now, and he’s already looking up at you. “What?”

“You see like this line? ‘Don’t cry because it’s over baby smile because it happened?’ Swap it so it’s like, ‘Don’t smile because it happened baby, cry because it’s over’.”

You furrow your brows. “That’s depressing as hell, though. It’s meant to be a love song.”

“That’s love, though.” He slides the paper back into your hands. “Depressing as shit.”

You scoff. “What do you know about love?”

He grins then, so boyish and teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

He huffs a laugh. “Love is overrated. That’s what I know.”

You roll your eyes. “You sound stupid. This isn’t some Disney channel movie, love isn’t overrated.”

“Hm. Agree to disagree.”

You quickly get up to grab a pen. You could sit further away, but you plant yourself right where you were before, and you ignore the knowing look Dabi gives you. “Okay, help me change the other lyrics then. Since this is now a hate song.”

Dabi laughs. “Not hate. Just not love either. A nice in between.”

“Hush. Okay, so this song is about. Well it’s about being okay with a breakup.”

“Is that the case for most people though? I mean, go the other way. Write a song about the pining, the feelings you can’t get over. Not being okay with a breakup.”

You always see Dabi at his most passionate when he’s talking about music. He spends most of his days lazy and indifferent, but now, his eyes shine brightly as he speaks, as animated as you see him get. You smile slightly, nodding.

“Okay. That sounds good. You have to help me though.”

“God, if I have to.”

The two of you sit for the next few minutes, squabbling and disagreeing half the time. You think the songs too negative and Dabi assures you it’s not.

“I mean, it’s all about the singer being in love with someone she doesn’t have. This line, ‘I want you to miss me’ or this one, about ‘thinking about me when you hold her’. It’s depressing, no?”

“But that’s what relationships are like.”

You slump back. You’re now cross legged on the couch, Dabi the same, the two of you conferring over the sheets of paper in front of you. There’s ink on your fingertips from writing and you tap the pen on your chin.

“Not necessarily. Not always.”

Dabi shrugs. “Definitely not always. But we can write about when it is. We’ve got plenty of love songs, but. We don’t have many focusing on this.”

“What’s this?”

Dabi paused for a second. It’s silent for a second too long, and you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you. There’s an expression on his face you don’t recognise. You smile slightly, confused, and it seems to jog him out of his silence.

“That longing. Wanting something, someone, so badly and not being able to have them. The pain of it.”

He speaks softly, his voice nearly a whisper just between the two of you. You notice suddenly, the proximity between the two of you. If you just lean forward a few inches, you’d be touching.

“You really think a relationship should be that hard? That painful?”

“No one writes good songs about the ones that come easy.”

You laugh softly. You scratch your chin. “Okay. That’s good, then. Let’s finish the rest.”

The two of you sit there, working away. You’ve never really been this alone with Dabi, not this late at night. There’s no windows in the studio, but you know from time and the fact sleep aches under your skin that it’s late. Somehow, you end up closer. Dabi reaches over to write something and your hands brush, you stretch and your arms touch. Both of you are desperately trying to get in contact just once, just for a second. After what feel like forever you throw your pen to the floor.

“God. I’m done. I’m tired.” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.” Dabi speaks through a yawn, dropping the papers on the coffee table in front of him.

You curl up on the couch, propping your head against Dabi’s shoulder. “You know when the next rehearsal is?” He asks.

Dabi scratches at the scruff on his chin and you think for a second. “Two days, I’m pretty sure”

Dabi curses softly under his breath. “I don’t think I can make it.”

“Uh, why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing who, more like.”

You sit up. “Who?”

Dabi grins. He brings his arms up to rest on the back of the couch. “You jealous, baby?”

“I’m not jealous of your little groupies.” You scoff.

Dabi barks out a laugh. “Groupies? The fuck are you talking about?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Oh, come on! Last tour you brought one back like, every night.”

“They wanted autographs!”

“Fuck off!” You laugh. “Those were very vocal autographs. You do realise the tour bus walls are very thin?” There’d been nights when you’d felt like you were in the room with them.

“Aw, if you wanted to get involved all you had to do was ask.” Dabi pouts, his voice teasing.

“Shut up, you pervert. You wish.”

“I do wish.”

“Degenerate.”

He reaches a hand up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze slightly and when he moves his hand away you turn, knowing the bright lights won’t hide the red on your face.

“Didn’t mean to be so loud. They can’t help it, you know. Not when I’m there.”

You scoff. “Right. Is that where you learnt all about love?”

“You could say. I know they loved it.”

It was no secret that Dabi slept around. You’d all been victim to the girls he took to bed, screaming his name late into the night when you’d all be trying to sleep after a show. Yeah, you’d had sex before, but it had never been like that. Didn’t have you yelling the way they did. It did make you wonder, some nights.

But you’re not going to let him know that. Your face twists in disgust. “Gross. I don’t need to know that.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.”

Dabi sighs. He sits up slightly. “Shame. I’d show you such a good time if you’d let me.”

And that has you thinking.

Because there he goes again, flirting and saying such suggestive things. You never play along because you always argue that he’s just joking. He doesn’t mean it. And you could shut it down right now. Really. One shove of his shoulder, one excuse that you’re tired and he’s being gross would have him backing off.

But Dabi is looking at you under impossibly long lashes, impossibly blue eyes trailing over your body, before they land back on your face. He’s looking at you like he’s not joking anymore, and the part of you that wants to scream like those girls did has you meeting his gaze with competition.

“Really?”

If he looks shocked at your reply, he doesn’t show it. He just inches closer. “Of course. You know I’d treat you right. If you’d let me.”

You're a breath away from each other. You’re not sure how, but you’re both sitting up again, face to face. You can smell the cigarette smoke that always seems to linger around him, the too strong cologne that never manages to hide it. This close you can see freckles on his face, so light you don’t think you ever would’ve noticed them otherwise. You want to reach out and touch them but you’re frozen. Waiting.

The both of you are silent. You let it linger, wait for him to make the next move.

“You’re gorgeous. Do you know that? I’m always watching you on stage. When you’re singing. Can’t get enough of you.”

He reaches a hand up. A hand rests on your shoulder, right against your pulse. His fingers curl up against your face, trailing down your cheek.

“And those groupies you were talking about? Fuck, I wish it was you. Wish it was you I was making scream on my tongue, do you know that?”

You don’t say anything. You don’t think you could if you tried. Dabi smiles.

“You know you do this thing. When we’re working. You always bite on the end of the pen.”

His fingers trail over your lips. His thumb rubs at your chin.

“Drives me fucking crazy.”

Your breath hitches as his hand curls around your neck with more purpose.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. That okay?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, yes it’s okay-“

Your words are breathless and desperate but no more desperate than Dabi is when he pulls you forward, crashes his lips against yours. He makes a sound, almost whining as he curls a hand in your hair. And it’s like everything you always thought it would be, as fast and as hot as you’d imagined. The hand on your neck reaches down, dipping under your shirt and pulling it over your head. You’re only in your bra, and you feel shy suddenly. Because you’re not the prettiest girl he’s ever met, you know that. Your arms curl around your body and he pulls away for just one second to shake his head, breathing heavily. His hands pull your arms away, grabbing both your wrists in one.

“Don’t do that, baby. I wanna see you.” He murmurs.

He kisses down your neck. His lips suck marks into your skin, and you should tell him to stop because people will see it all tomorrow but you want him to mark you up. You want him to see them tomorrow, see them at rehearsals and remember it was him who put them there.

He licks at your pulse and he pulls back. He reaches behind and with one hand, unclips your bra. The ease in which he does it should alarm you slightly, but then he continues down, and his hands on your breasts is enough to render any thoughts in your head useless. He grabs them both and he groans.

“These tits. So soft, so beautiful.” He whispers the words into your skin like they’re not even meant for you.

He pinches your left nipple before sucking it into your mouth. You whine, hands reaching up into his hair, tugging at his shirt. Because you suddenly feel horribly underdressed compared to him, shirtless as he moves to give attention to your other nipple. He tugs his shirt up quickly, and you let your hands travel up his torso. You feel the lean muscle under his arms, trace the scars across his body. He lets go suddenly.

“Come on, baby. Take these off.” He tugs at your jeans and you quickly slips them off. His hands slips your underwear away as well, throwing them to the side.

Dabi moves quickly into the floor until he’s kneeling in front of you, arms resting on your legs as he spreads your thighs apart.

“Dabi? What- What are you doing?”

“You call me Touya when I make you come on my tongue, you hear me?”

You curse, breath hitching as he kisses the soft skin of your thighs, fingers rubbing up and down the side of your hip. “It’s okay. You don’t- You don’t have to.”

Dabi, or Touya now, looks confused. He tilts his head slightly, lips red and kissed out, hair mussed from where you had been grabbing it. “Have to? I’ve been dreaming about this pussy for so long, baby, you don’t even know.”

He looks at you with so much want in his eyes. He bites softly into your thigh and you squeal, and he grins.

“If it was up to me, I’d sit you on my face and eat you out until you can’t speak, but. We’re on a time crunch here.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit and you shudder. Two fingers reach and part your folds and Dabi makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“So wet. Is this all for me?”

“Touya, stop teasing.” You huff, squirming in your place.

Touya drags his fingers down, face so close you can feel his breaths. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Touya.” You grit out, sitting up in your elbows to glare down at him.

“Please what?”

“Please-“ Your cheeks flush red because he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are focused between your legs like he’s seen heaven between them.

“Please, make me cum, you prick.” You say with a shiver.

And it’s that tiny shiver that seems to set him off because he’s suddenly kissing and sucking at your lips, tongue digging inside your pussy and tracing circles around your clit. Your hips rock forward as you moan, and he holds you down easily so he can continue.

You have been eaten out a few times before. It never felt like something to enjoy, the boyfriend or hookup always doing it to get something over with, to tick a box. But what makes your toes curl, what makes you inch that much closer to cumming, is the fact that Dabi is eating you like a man starved. He’s groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he takes slow, purposeful mouthfuls of your pussy like he’s doing it for him and not you.

“Taste so good. You been hiding this from me?”

“Touya- fuck.” You grab his hair and tug, and he moans.

“Yeah, good girl. Do that again.”

You comply, his name a ramble on your lips as your hips buck again. Your core aches and you voice reaches an embarrassingly high pitch as he kisses your clit again. It takes an embarrassingly short time for you to reach the edge. “Da-Touya, I’m, I’m close,” you breathe, hands clutching at the couch beneath you.

Touya detaches himself from you, eyes glancing up at you. “Yeah? You’re close?”

You nod, whine caught in your throat. Your hips jolt forward as he begins trailing slow circles over your clit with his finger. You whine at the slow contact.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes. Yes, Touya, please.” You breathe.

“You wanna cum on my tongue, baby?” He whispers and you keen, hand reaching down to tug at his hair again, trying to drag him closer.

“Fucking- Touya, I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

He laughs at that, quickly returning his attention back between your legs. It’s embarrassingly loud as he sucks at your clit, two fingers reaching inside you to press against that spot that has you moaning his name once more.

“Good girl, so fucking pretty cumming all over my face.” He groans.

And then you cum, and Touya easily holds your hips down as they shake, his own grinding into the floor beneath him, and he takes you through an orgasm that racks through your body. You think you might pass out from the pleasure that crashes over you so suddenly. His hands grab at your chest, your neck, and when he kisses you again you can taste yourself on his tongue.

He smiles at you again, this time more elated, a wild look in his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” It takes you a minute before you can reply. You do so but gesturing him up in his feet.

“Here. Come, get up.” You speak suddenly, still breathing heavily.

Touya looks confused for a second. You drag him up onto the couch, and your eyes trail down, to the obvious bluge in his trousers. And he looks big judging by it, and you think you’re already ready to get off again.

“Your turn. Come on, take these off.” You tap your fingers on his jeans and take his place on the floor.

“God, you know just what to say to a man.”

“Shut up.”

He uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and he’s just showing off now, you know, but it’s hot and he knows it is. He pulls his jeans down his legs and you let them pool at his feet. And when you pull his cock out it’s long and thick, you find the source of all his arrogance. He catches you looking and he huffs a laugh. His breath hitches as you slide your fingers up the side, tongue reaching out to lick at the tip, hard and leaking precum.

“You know, you always, fuck, you always deny it, sweetheart, but look at you.” He groans as you lick a stripe up his cock. “On your knees for me.”

“I always imagined taking you right here, in the studio, bending you over this couch and fucking you until you’re screaming nothing but my name, squirming and begging on my dick.” Your thighs clench and he sees it, a nasty smirk on his face as you take him into your mouth.

“You want that too, angel? Want me to make you scream so loudly everyone comes in and, shit, sees you cumming on my cock? You want that?”

You don’t say anything, can’t, because he fills your mouth so full that you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. His hand reaches into you hair, guiding your head up and down his dick, low moans and grunts leaving his mouth. He’s so vocal, you realise, an endlesss stream of barely coherent praise leaving his mouth as you use yours.

“Fuck, yeah sweetheart, fuck.” His hips buck into your mouth and you nearly choke.

“Come on, I know you can take it. Good girl, good fucking girl.” He groans, pulling your head down further.

Your eyes flutter shut and Touya reaches down with his free hand to brush the tears that fall down your cheeks. You grab into his thighs, nails digging into his skin.

“Taking me so well, baby. Always so fucking mouthy. So pretty when you use it right.” He breathed heavily, jerking into your mouth again.

He starts fucking into your mouth, and you swipe your tongue underneath his dick, the vein that runs down it and he stutters, breathy curses leaving his lips.

“Gonna cum, fuck.”

Your name slips past his lips in tandem as he bucks into your mouth one last time. Your mouth fills and you swallow, and he pats your cheek as you look back up at him, gasping for breath you pull back. His chest heaves and his eyes are shining brightly again but for a very different reason. You trace the scratches you left on his thighs and he in turns rubs a finger on the hickeys that leave a telling trail down your body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i get so cringed out when i write smut but i wanted to do it so i powered through!!! plz give me any tips if u think its bad i greatly appreciate it. i also had noooo idea how to end this oneshot so i lowkey just stopped writing LMAO

anyway.... bass player dabi u live on in my heart kisses forever

#oneshot #fluff #touya todoroki x reader #b3ach bunn7 #dabi/reader #bnha touya #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #mha fanfiction #smut #mha smut #dabi smut #bnha smut #mha touya #dabi mha

274 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 16 days ago

Text

do i wanna know? — gojo satoru.

There was a part of you, a fearful, vulnerable part, that wondered if Satoru would one day say the words that would break you, words that would echo the hurt from years ago, words that would strip you of the security you thought you’d found in his arms. You wondered if he would one day grow tired of you, grow bored, and walk away for someone newer, someone more suited to his world. But every time you thought of pulling back, of protecting yourself from the potential hurt, something inside you reminded you that this was different. Satoru wasn’t just anyone, and you weren’t just anyone to him. He wasn’t a man who would easily be swayed by fleeting attractions or empty promises. He was your god, and in his world, there was no one who could take your place.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab, age gap (satoru is 25, reader is in her late 30s), smut, fluff, romance, lovers, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, teasing, flirting, making out, oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, p to v sex, clit stimulation, fingers in mouth, biting, multiple orgasm, breeding kink, humor, profanity, pet names (my love, my darling, etc), anxiety, slice of life, comfort, reassurances, light-hearted, prejudice, insults, misogynist insults, threats, anger, the gojo clan, gojo elders, gojo is a step parent, reader's has a child, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, explicit language used, mention of sexual euphemisms, mention of previous abusive relationship, mention of forced arrange marriage, depiction of romantic relationship, depiction of explicit sexual content;

WORD COUNT: 11k words.

NOTE: this won the poll for satoru's birthday and i am obedient to your commands. anyway, gege mentioned in a q&a before that in another life, satoru would have loved to be with an older woman who takes care of him. and i really wanted to put that into writing. clan leader gojo satoru met his paramour when he was 23 and she was in her 30s. and they got together a year later, after he caused her divorce (good, we hate her ex!) anyway, i hope you enjoy this. happy birthday satoru <3333

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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GOJO SATORU DOESN’T LIKE IT HERE, IF HE WAS BEING HONEST. But with his birth as the Gojo clan’s head nearly twenty-eight years ago, it was inevitable that duty would follow him like an unwelcome shadow.

And while Satoru Gojo might have been known for bending, well if not outright breaking the rules, some responsibilities were inescapable. The tedious rituals of these endless, mind-numbingly dull meetings were one such obligation.

The elders droned on, their voices blending into a monotonous hum as Satoru rested his chin in his palm, his trademark blindfold pushed up to reveal eyes that sparkled with a mix of boredom and mischief. If it were up to him, he’d be anywhere else. Well, preferably with you.

But then he thought of you.

You’d scold him lightly the last time he’d skipped a similar meeting, your hands on your hips and your voice tinged with exasperation. “Satoru, I get that these things are boring, but you’re the head of the clan. You can’t just skip out whenever you feel like it.”

The memory of your words made him smirk, even now. He’d teased you about sounding like one of the elders, only for you to roll your eyes and threaten to lock him out of the house next time.

But beneath the teasing, Satoru could tell you weren’t really angry. You just wanted him to live up to what you believed he could be—a leader, a protector, someone worthy of the respect that came with his position.

And Satoru, for all his arrogance and rebelliousness, cared deeply about what you thought of him. He liked making a good impression on you, liked seeing that spark of pride in your eyes when he actually tried. He liked being dominated by you in that way. In the way no one else could with strength or authority. And that will never change, even if he gets older.

Because when you were happy, life was so much better.

Happy little paramour, happy Satoru.

Good things happened when you were pleased with him. Like the way you’d smiled at him that night, soft and warm, when he returned from a long day of clan business without a single complaint. Or the way you’d rewarded him, your touch gentle yet possessive, as you whispered just how proud you were of him.

That memory alone was enough to keep him seated in this stuffy room, enduring the endless stream of pointless debates.

His cerulean eyes flicked to the clock on the far wall, and he sighed internally. Maybe if he played nice for a little longer, he’d earn another one of your “rewards”. That thought made his lips twitch upward, turning his smirk into something softer, almost boyish.

For now, he’d comply. Not for the elders, not for tradition, and certainly not for the so-called dignity of the Gojo clan.

But for you?

Always.

The grand hall of the Gojo estate carried the weight of centuries, its towering wooden beams etched with intricate carvings of the clan’s history and power. Light filtered through paper windows, casting soft, golden hues onto the tatami floors. The faint scent of cedar and aged paper lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the tradition that permeated every corner of this space.

In the very center of the semicircle formed by the Gojo elders, Satoru Gojo sat with an air of effortless defiance. His long legs were crossed, the hem of his sleek black uniform brushing against the floor as he leaned back into the ornate chair that seemed too formal for his irreverent posture. One arm draped lazily over the chair’s armrest, the other resting against his knee.

His blindfold was pushed up just enough to reveal those striking cerulean eyes, glowing faintly under the dim light. They darted from one elder to the next, absorbing their stern expressions and stiff postures. Their disapproving glares didn’t faze him in the slightest. If anything, his smirk deepened, radiating a casual arrogance that seemed to say, Go ahead, bore me more.

The elders sat like statues, their somber robes pooling around them as they exchanged glances, each waiting for someone else to break the tense silence. It was a calculated move, a tactic they had used many times before—to let the room fill with the weight of unspoken expectations.

But Satoru? He was unbothered. The tension that might have crushed a lesser man seemed to amuse him. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest in a slow rhythm, a subtle show of impatience.

Finally, the eldest among them spoke, his voice gravelly with age and heavy with authority. “Satoru.”

The single word echoed through the hall, a summons and a reprimand all at once.

Satoru tilted his head slightly, his smirk shifting into a lopsided grin. “Yes, yes, I’m listening.” he said, his tone light, almost playful. “No need to sound so grim. What is it this time? Another lecture on duty? A new list of rules I’m supposed to follow but probably won’t?”

A ripple of disapproval passed through the elders, their expressions darkening. They had always known that Gojo Satoru was going to overwhelm them. He was the most powerful of all the Six Eyes ever to be born upon this earth. A god among men.

But they would have wished that he was someone that wasn’t this strong. They would have wished for a boy meek and obedient, observing the rules and traditions of piety and propriety, as they had taught him long ago.

“This is not a matter to be taken lightly, Satoru–sama.” another elder intoned, his voice sharp. “As the head of the Gojo clan, you bear responsibilities that extend beyond yourself. You carry the legacy of our bloodline.”

“Mm, I’ve heard that one before, y’know?” Satoru replied, his grin widening. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. “Let me guess. You’ve got some brilliant plan for my life that I’m supposed to nod along to?”

One of the other elders cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Satoru–sama, we convened today to discuss matters of critical importance to the Gojo clan’s future. Your leadership is unmatched, your strength unparalleled. As it always will be. But, Satoru–sama, strength alone does not secure our lineage.”

Satoru leaned back, his head tilting slightly. “Let me guess, old man.” he said, dragging out the words. “This is once again about me settling down and having kids to ‘secure the lineage.’ Right?”

The female elder hesitated before nodding. “Precisely, Satoru–sama. It is time you began considering suitable candidates for marriage. The Gojo name—”

“Not interested.” Satoru cut her off, waving a dismissive hand. His tone was light, but the sharp edge behind it was impossible to miss. She frowns at him. He smiles at her. “Granny, seriously. Don’t look at me like that. I’m seriously not interested!”

Another elder leaned forward, his voice laced with frustration. “This isn’t a suggestion, Satoru–sama. As the head of the clan, it is your duty to—”

Satoru chuckled, his smirk widening. “Duty? That’s rich. You’re asking me to chain myself to someone I don’t care about for some outdated notion of duty? Hard pass.”

“You’re being too eager and reckless!” another elderly clan woman’s voice snapped. The eldest of the group, her tone carried the authority of someone used to being obeyed. “This is not just about you, Satoru–sama. The Gojo clan must remain strong, its bloodline untainted. That harlot—”

“Untainted? Harlot?” Satoru’s smirk vanished, and his voice dropped, cold and deliberate. His cerulean eyes grew brighter. “My, my. Granny. You ought to know your words are irritating to the ear. It’s really making it itchy.”

“Thinking about the future is not a joke!”

“You sound like one of those sorcerer supremacists I spend my days cleaning up after. Careful, you’re starting to sound like the bad guys.” He touts, leaning against the back of his chair. “And I have no interest in joining you in that, sorry.”

The elder stiffened but pressed on. “We are not supremacists, Satoru–sama. We are protectors of tradition. And this so-called ‘companion’ of yours—this filthy harlot—is beneath the dignity of the Gojo clan.”

The elders grew quiet as they looked at the elderly woman. Everything stilled in the room as the words hung in the air. No one would have dared say anything. Nothing at all. Not ever. Not when they knew that they had no right to. He doesn’t like hearing those words about you. He hates it. He absolutely hates it.

Gojo Satoru’s posture straightened, and for the first time in the meeting, his full attention was on them. The air grew heavy, crackling with a faint but unmistakable aura of cursed energy. His piercing cerulean eyes grew ever so bright that it made them feel blinded by the sheer power that echoes through.

“I told you already. Those words aren’t acceptable to me, granny.” Satoru said, his voice deadly quiet. The elder faltered, but Satoru didn’t give him a chance to recover. “You think you can talk about her like that? Like she’s nothing? You don’t get to decide her worth. Not to me.”

“She is not suitable for someone of your status!” another elder argued, his voice sharp and rising with indignation. Her old weathered hands gripped the edges of the low table before him as if clutching at the weight of tradition itself.

He stares at her coldly. “Is that so?”

“She has no ties to the clan, no exceptional lineage, and what remains is disgrace—a widow with a child? You bring shame to—”

“She has me.”

The words cut through the elder’s tirade like a blade, cold and unyielding. Satoru’s voice was firm, carrying a finality that made the elders freeze. He rose from his seat abruptly, the chair scraping against the tatami with a low, ominous groan.

His towering frame seemed even more imposing in the dim light, and the smirk that had danced on his lips moments ago was gone, replaced by a hard, unflinching glare.The shift in his demeanor was palpable.

The temperature of the room seemed to plummet as raw power rippled through the air, emanating from Satoru in waves. His cursed energy was no longer contained, no longer the effortless hum of control they were used to. Instead, it rolled off him in a suffocating wave, filling the grand hall like an invisible storm.

The flickering light through the paper windows dimmed as if the very room recoiled from the intensity of his presence. The shadows danced wildly across the deep wooden walls, twisted and distorted, as if reflecting the raw emotion crackling beneath his calm façade.

“That’s more than enough, don’t you think?” Satoru’s voice was low, almost a growl, yet it carried across the room with a weight that settled deep in the chest of everyone present.

The elder who had spoken faltered, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort, but no words came. None of them dared speak. Not now. Not when the sheer magnitude of the Six Eyes’s power was on full display before them. And with Gojo Satoru at its helm, of course there was the right to stay silent.

Everything about him was terrifying. They had always known that. The moment he was born, he was a god. Everyone knew that. And yet, they kept poking him. They kept viewing him as one of their own when they were below him. They always have been.

The room felt like a scene from a horror film, the oppressive energy pressing down on the elders like unseen hands. Even the most seasoned among them, a highly respected female elder who had faced countless curses in her youth than Satoru could ever have couldn’t suppress the faint tremor in her fingers as she stared at the walking god among them, their clan head.

Gojo Satoru’s expression remained unwavering as his piercing blue eyes swept across the room, daring anyone to challenge him further. He was not fazed by any of them, never. Why should a god be bothered with these mortals who think they can get away with irritating him?

“She is mine, do you hear me?” he continued, his voice steady and dangerously calm. “And that’s all that matters. Her value isn’t something you get to decide, and it sure as hell isn’t tied to your outdated notions of status and bloodlines. You got that, granny?”

The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint creak of wood as one of the elders shifted uneasily.

“You’re letting your arrogance blind you.” the elder woman pressed, though her voice wavered. “Your attachment to this woman will weaken the clan. It will make us a laughingstock.”

Satoru stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “Weak? Do I look weak to you? Does the Six Eyes look weak? The only thing making this clan a laughingstock is your obsession with control.”

He paused, his tone softening into something more dangerous. “You don’t like her because she’s not one of you. Fine. But understand this: she stays. And if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with me.”

The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their authority shrinking under Satoru’s gaze. The silence stretched until one of the younger members tried a different approach. “Satoru–sama,” he said cautiously. “Perhaps this isn’t about approval. It’s about legacy. You could have her and still—”

“Enough.” Satoru’s voice was final. He turned his back on them, striding toward the door. “I don’t need your permission, and I’m not asking for it. Marry someone ‘suitable’ to have a perfect Gojo heir? Sounds boring as hell.”

He stopped at the threshold, glancing back over his shoulder. “If you want to waste your time scheming, knock yourselves out. But don’t expect me to care.”

“Satoru–sama—”

Satoru’s smirk returned, this time sharper, colder, as he leaned forward slightly. He looked at the elderly woman, once more. She started to feel frigid, her palms were sweating. The more he looked at her, the more his stare intensified against him.

“If you can’t accept that, maybe it’s time for you to consider if you’re suitable to serve me or this clan, don’t you think? I’m sure retirement is good for you, granny. After all, the old need to take their time and have something else, don’t you think?”

The entire room seemed to hold its bated breath, the weight of his threateningly blunt words pressing down like a stone. All of the elders exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado crumbling in the face of Satoru’s unrelenting presence.

And then, as suddenly as it had come, the oppressive energy dissipated. The shadows stilled, the room brightened, and the suffocating tension eased. But the impression it left lingered—a stark reminder of who they were dealing with.

Satoru once more straightened, his posture relaxed once more, but the fire in his cerulean eyes hadn’t dimmed. He’d rather stop now. He doesn’t want you to be angry at him when you find out about the things he’s done here. A warning is much better. It’s better to keep them in line.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the hall’s exit, leaving the elders to stew in silence. At the doorway, he paused, glancing over his shoulder with a final smirk. “Oh, and one more thing—if you ever insult her again, we won’t be having a polite conversation next time. You are all replaceable, you know?”

With that, Gojo Satoru left, the echo of his footsteps fading down the corridor, leaving the elders to sit in stunned, chastened silence. The grand doors slammed shut behind him, leaving the elders in stunned silence.

One of the older members sighed heavily, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s as stubborn as his old brute of a father.”

“No.” the eldest woman corrected, her eyes narrowing. “He’s worse. And we’ve let him believe he’s untouchable.”

The other elder narrows his eyes and looks at them. “But he is. He is…he is a god.”

No one spoke another breath.

They all looked away from one another.

They knew the elder was too correct.

And that god, he will do as he pleases, no matter what.

Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru walked down the estate’s long corridors, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He had no patience for their games, but the thought of returning you, you who was waiting for him, was more than enough to wash away the bitterness of the meeting. He pulled his phone from his pockets and started calling you.

Gojo Satoru’s name flashed across your phone screen, and a small smile tugged at your lips as you answered. You haven't heard from him since yesterday. He had a mission and now he had a meeting with his clan elders, so he has been busy.

You missed his voice, you missed having him in your arms. But you can’t get in the way of his day to day. If anything, you were just happy that he chose you, out of everyone else in the world. He loves you.

“Hello, my love.” you greeted, your voice light but with a hint of warmth. “What’s up?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. You wonder why he was staying silent. But Gojo Satoru knows he doesn’t see you as often as he would have liked. He liked taking the time to enjoy the warmth that comes in your voice when you call him endearments. When your voice warmly calls to him. He doesn’t like taking it for granted.

But before long, Satoru’s voice came through, low and a little teasing. “I’m coming over.”

His tone held that playful, confident edge, the one that made it clear he was already on his way and didn’t care whether you were ready or not. When you first met Satoru, you had always known him to be head–strong and powerful. It was something you could tell with the way his voice reverberates.

But the more you got to know him over the years, you were quite certain that there was always a warmth that echoes through his voice whenever he talks to you. And you loved every bit of it. You always want to hear that over and over again, to feel it over and over again. Even if it was playful teasing.

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Well, I guess I’ll get ready then. You never give me much notice, do you?”

Satoru’s laugh was almost smug. “Why would I? You’ll always be ready for me, won’t you?”

You could almost picture the smirk on his face, the same one that always made your heart race in the best way. You could feel your entire body turn flustered scarlet at his words. He always knew how to make you feel like this. And you knew only he could do this so well to you.

“I’m not a mind reader, Satoru.” you teased back, but there was a warmth in your voice that betrayed how much you adored him.

“I’ll be there soon, darling.” he said, his tone turning a little softer now, like it always did when it was just the two of you. “I missed you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the sincerity in his words making you pause for a moment. “I missed you too. Hurry up.”

Satoru didn’t respond immediately, but the sound of his light chuckle on the other end was all you needed to know he was already half-smiling at the phone. He was happy to always be in your presence. Today was not an exemption.

“You know I’ll always be there when you need me, darling.” he said finally. “Give me a few minutes.”

Before you could reply, he hung up, and you found yourself smiling to yourself as you placed your phone down. The wait would be worth it. You sighed and walked out the room, seeing your own little young one play with their toys on the living room floor. Your child is at least distracted for a little while longer. So, you’ll use some of that time and get beautiful for your lover.

══════════════════

THIS WAS A PLACE THAT WAS JUST FOR YOU AND YOU ONLY. Satoru had intended it to be that way. He had always known you’d like something that was under your name.

And you had always said that you would have wanted your own home, your own place. One to reflect yourself and your person. You’d never had that before. Not even as a girl in your father’s minor clan.

So when you had gotten your divorce, this was his little present to you. You had been stunned, of course. You could only wonder how much money your lover had poured into such a place like this. Yet each time you asked to compensate him, he would shut you down. He would say that you being with him was enough, that was more than enough for him.

Gojo Satoru, if he was being honest, did not care for that. Money didn't matter to him. He had too much of it. This house was like a lunch packet to him from the convenient store. He wouldn’t have his pockets broken by this purchase. If anything, he had wanted to give you more.

But when he had shown you all the other houses, you felt intimidated by its magnanimity. You had lived in a clan manor all your life. And it was a lonely place. A painful place. And so he granted your wish, as he always will. An intimate home, big enough to feel spacious, small enough to feel homely.

And of course, you didn’t want him to think you were just with him for his money. You never were. You never wanted his money. Or any of his riches. You shunned them. Each and every time. Even a small gold necklace would horrify you.

But Satoru wants to show you that you deserve it. You deserved being lavished like this. And more than ever, he’d always liked spoiling you, making you feel good, making you feel important. Making you feel wanted. But not even your ex–husband had done this for you before. But Satoru has. He always will, he swore that to you. And he will never make you feel any other way. He wants you. Only you.

The house stood a fair bit away from the sprawling Gojo estate, nestled in a quiet grove of cherry blossom trees. There was a bright blossoming garden, full of blossoming sweet lilies facing the house’s massive gate. There was a small pond on the front of the garden, where koi swim with great abundance.

It wasn’t extravagant by any stretch—certainly not what one might expect from the limitless wealth and influence of Gojo Satoru. But that was the point. This house was a sanctuary, a world of its own, far removed from the suffocating expectations and politics of the Gojo clan.

And it was where he could be with you. Where you would always welcome him with adoration. Where you both could just be the lovers you were. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. This was perfect. This was home. His home.

You stood on the porch, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of blossoms as your child played in the yard. The soft laughter of your little one rang out, and you couldn’t help but smile. The sound was a salve to your heart, a reminder of the joy you’d rebuilt after your loss. Life had been cruel, but it had also been kind enough to lead you here. To him.

Gojo Satoru appeared from the path that wound through the grove, his white hair catching the sunlight like in the awakening dawn. He wasn’t wearing his blindfold—he rarely did around you. And those impossibly bright eyes locked onto you the moment he saw you. His lips curled into a grin, and the weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying lifted in an instant.

“Hey!” he called, his voice teasing as he reached the steps. “You weren’t waiting too long for me, were you?”

“You? On time?” you shot back, laughing softly. “I wouldn’t dream of expecting it.”

He feigned a wounded expression, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, rushing back because I missed you.”

You shook your head, your smile softening as he stepped onto the porch. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, his hand lingering on your waist, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you. You allowed the warmth of his kiss to linger on your cheek for a little while longer as you closed your eyes.

“I mean it, you know.” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “I missed you, my love.”

Your gaze met his, and for all his confidence, all his bravado, there was something achingly sincere in his eyes. You touched his cheek, brushing your thumb lightly against his skin. You hummed right back at him.

“I missed you too. Very much so, my dearest.”

Satoru’s eyes flicked toward your child, who was now chasing a butterfly near the garden. His grin returned, brighter but no less genuine. They had become ever so playful, perhaps even more playful to the point he was almost like a child.

“How’s the little one today? Still convinced they can outrun nature?”

“They’re determined.” you replied with a laugh. “Like someone else I know.”

“Hey, I don’t chase butterflies. Butterflies chase me.” he quipped, stepping into the yard. Your child spotted him and squealed with delight, abandoning the butterfly to run toward him.

“Uncle Satoru!”

He caught the child mid-run, lifting them high into the air as they giggled uncontrollably. “What’s up, champ? You keep your mom on her toes?”

“Uh-huh!” they exclaimed, wrapping their arms around his neck. “I helped with the garden!”

“Did you now?” Satoru asked, his tone conspiratorial. “Well, you’re officially better at gardening than me. Guess I should just let you take over.”

You watched the two of them, your heart full as you observed Satoru with your child, his laughter ringing through the air as he effortlessly entertained with some playful trick.

Your little one’s giggles echoed in the room, their bright eyes alight with the wonder that only Satoru seemed to inspire. You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned back, letting the moment settle in.

Satoru had slipped into your life so effortlessly, as if he’d always been meant to be here. There was never any doubt in his mind that he belonged. And despite the differences that had initially made you hesitate—your age, the fact that you were a widow with a child, the baggage of a past life you had long left behind—he had never wavered. He’d never made you feel as if your history, your experience, your flaws, were anything but part of who you were.

The memory of how it all began flickered in your mind.

It had been at a gathering—a formal affair, the kind that your circle insisted on holding, where old friends and acquaintances came together to exchange pleasantries. You hadn’t expected much. But there, across the room, amidst the sea of people, stood Satoru.

He had been just another guest at the event, but there was something in the way he carried himself that immediately drew your attention. His presence was magnetic, unapologetically confident yet somehow effortlessly disarming.

The way his eyes scanned the room as if he had the power to bend the world to his will, the slight curve of his lips that suggested he knew exactly what was on everyone’s mind—he exuded an energy that you hadn’t realized you missed in your life.

At first, you had told yourself that you were imagining things. You were older, you had been burned by love before. And Satoru? He was younger, practically a child in comparison, and someone who could undoubtedly have anyone he wanted. It wasn’t just that, of course.

There were still remnants of your scandalous and brutish marriage to contend with, your abusive ex–husband was still alive, as much as his own terrible brute of relatives. And it does not help that your own family does not wish to see you ever again, after you have divorced your husband.

Then there were your own fears, your insecurities. You weren’t someone that would catch his eye. You were a weak woman with little to no cursed energy, destitute and without anything to her name or her person that could qualify such worth to a man like him. And how could such a person like you ever be enough for such a spectacularly beloved, god-like man such as him?

But despite all of it, when your own bright eyes met his own cerulean eyes across the crowded room, there was an undeniable pull, as if the universe itself had quietly decided that you and he were meant to meet.

There was no turning back now. Not when you had already captured his attention. Gojo Satoru had approached you with that same easy confidence, that casual smirk, as if he already knew you—knew exactly who you were.

"I've seen you around, madam." he’d said, his voice warm and smooth. “But I don’t think we’ve ever actually met.”

The way he looked at you made you feel seen, as if he understood more about you than anyone could. It was disarming, but it also felt strangely comforting. You had expected to be distant, guarded, perhaps even cold. But instead, you found yourself drawn in, eager to know more, to hear more from this man who seemed to be everywhere at once, yet made you feel like the only person in the room.

“It's a big world, my lord.” you had responded with a soft laugh, trying to play it off, but something in his eyes made you stop.

“I don’t think it’s that big.” he’d said, voice light yet sure. “Not when you’re with the right person.”

That was the moment everything had changed. His words, his certainty, settled deep within you. Those words had almost certainly stirred you awake. You hadn’t been expecting it, hadn't even known you were looking for it but there it was, a spark. A spark that only both of you could ever feel for one another. No one else.

From that day forward, Satoru had been a constant presence in your life, never once giving you the chance to second-guess his intentions. He didn’t care that you were older, that you had a child, that you came with emotional baggage, that you came from nothing. His focus was always on the future, on the here and now. On you. Only ever you.

And despite the fears that still lingered deep within you, the concerns about what others might think, Satoru was always there, unwavering, convincing you slowly but surely that what mattered wasn’t age, or circumstance. It was a connection. It was love, pure and simple. And he had said it time and time again, no love was purer than his.

Now, seeing him with your child, the way he so effortlessly blended into your world, you knew that all your doubts, your hesitations, had been nothing but noise. The bond you shared with Satoru had grown far beyond anything you had imagined when you first met him.

And as you watched him laugh with your little one, you knew in your heart that this life—this beautiful, imperfect life was everything you had ever wanted. Gojo Satoru had never wavered, not even once. And as long as he was by your side, neither would you.

He’d brushed aside your concerns with that infuriatingly charming smile of his. “You’re beautiful, my love.” he’d said. “You’re kind. You take care of me in ways no one else ever has. Why should I care about anything else?”

And he didn’t. Not the whispers from the Gojo clan elders, not the disapproving stares from those who clung to tradition. None of it mattered to him. You were his. And he would be damned if anyone else tried to take you away from him. He wouldn’t allow it. Not ever, not now.

When Satoru finally returned to the porch, your child perched happily on his shoulders, he gave you a grin so full of mischief and warmth that it made your chest ache and your stomach echo with the string of butterflies dancing with joy.

“You know, my love.” he said, crouching to let the child climb down, “I think I might stick around tonight. Someone’s gotta keep you company while the kiddo’s sleeping.”

“You’re terrible at subtlety, don’t you think?” you teased, though your smile betrayed you.

“Subtlety is well overrated.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “But loving you? That’s never gonna be.”

And in that moment, with the sunset painting the grove in hues of gold and the sound of your child’s laughter still lingering in the air, you believed him. Satoru Gojo didn’t care about what the world thought. He cared about you. And that was more than enough.

That evening, the house was filled with the kind of quiet warmth that only came when everything was just as it should be. The three of you had dinner together, as you always do when he was around. You were carefully eating the curry you made while your Satoru kept your child entertained with exaggerated stories of his latest exorcisms at work.

“And then, you’re gonna enjoy this!” Satoru declared, balancing a piece of rice precariously on his chopsticks for dramatic effect. “This cursed spirit thought it could outsmart me. Me!” He tapped his temple. “But I hit it with my Infinity Combo—that’s what I’m calling it for now, by the way—and boom! Game over. I won! Of course, I would.”

“Yay! You’re so cool, uncle Satoru!” Your child clapped their hands, eyes wide. “Did it explode?”

“Obviously, kiddo.” Satoru said, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. “But I made sure it wasn’t messy. I mean, your mom wouldn’t be happy if I came home with guts all over me, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “You’d better not. I’m not washing that out like last time.”

“See?” Satoru said, ruffling the child’s hair. “That’s why we have to stay clean. Gotta keep your mom happy. Like always, hm?”

After that satisfying dinner, your child begged for one more story before bed, and Satoru, someone who was always indulging to spoil your child, quickly obliged with a smile. Your child quickly cheered and ran to bed, calling your lover by his side.

You watched from the doorway as he sat on the floor beside their bed, weaving a fantastical tale you couldn’t tell where the truth ended and his imagination began. Satoru was a born storyteller, you could tell that much.

He’d told you that he’d done the same for Tsumiki and Megumi when he was younger. And you could tell, they both enjoyed it as much as your child was.

“And that’s when the hero—who totally wasn’t me, by the way—saved the day and got ice cream as a reward!” Satoru finished with a flourish. “The end.”

Your child giggled sleepily, their eyelids growing heavy. “Uncle Satoru… you’re the best.”

Satoru leaned down, looking at your child ever so tenderly. As though he loved them as his own. He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. “Nah. That’s you, champ. Sweet dreams.”

As he stood and turned, he caught your gaze. Something unspoken passed between you, and in that moment, the depth of his love for both you and your child was as clear as the night sky. And that had only made you fall in love with him even more deeper than before.

You both left the room quietly, the soft sound of your child’s even breathing following you down the hall. Once in the living room, you turned to Satoru, your arms crossing playfully towards him. He raises a brow at you with intrigue.

“You spoil them, you know.”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I, my love?” he said, plopping onto the couch and stretching out. “It’s in the job description. Best unofficial stepdad ever.”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting down beside him. “Oh? Is that what you are now?”

“Mm-hmm.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “And let me tell you, I’m killing it. They adore me.”

“They do, they always will.” you admitted, resting your head against his chest. “And so do I.”

Satoru stilled for a moment, his arms tightening around you. He lets his lips quiver into a satisfied smile. His bright eyes gleamed at you with the warmth that only others can hope for when he looks. This was only for you. Only ever you.

“Good.” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. Got that?”

“Hm, I got it.”

You closed your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchor you. Life hasn't been easy. You don’t think it ever will be. it had been messy and unpredictable and, at times, unbearably painful. But with Satoru, it felt whole again. You felt like you actually had a shot at life. And that was more than enough.

He tilted his head to press a kiss to your hair, and when he spoke again, his voice was lighter, teasing. “You know, I think I deserve some kind of reward for all this family-man stuff. Maybe a kiss? Or two? Just to keep me motivated.”

You laughed, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You’re impossible, Satoru.”

“And you love me for it.” He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was equal parts playful and tender.

And he was right. You did.

══════════════════

YOUR LOVER WAS INSATIABLE WHEN THE QUIET COMES. When the quiet settled over the house like a soft blanket, you knew what would happen. It was always like that when Satoru was around. Nothing can change that. Not when he missed you.

You started to prepare your child’s clothes for tomorrow’s school day. You could feel their breathing steadily echo through the walls as you put away the clothes on the table. You smiled at your child and tucked the covers over their body.

They’d kicked it off again, as they shifted positions. You lingered for a moment longer, brushing a hand over their hair and kissing their forehead, before stepping out of the room with careful precision.

The second you closed the door behind you, you felt it—Gojo Satoru’s presence. He was waiting for you, leaning casually against the wall at the end of the hallway, his arms crossed and that signature smirk already in place. And those bright cerulean eyes gazed at you with never– ending mischief. He almost looked like a sly little fox as he stood there.

“You’ve been avoiding me, darling.” he said, his tone playful but with a hint of accusation.

“I haven’t, my love.” you replied, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

“Mm-hmm.” he murmured, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides. “You’ve been too busy being the perfect mom. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already there, his hands finding your waist as he leaned in closer. His voice dropped to a low, teasing murmur. “But now that the little one’s asleep… I get to be selfish now.”

Your breath hitched, and you barely managed to say, “Satoru—” before he scooped you up effortlessly.

“Bedroom. Now, my darling.” he said simply, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

You didn’t bother protesting, you can’t. This was Gojo Satoru—stubborn, insatiable, and completely unapologetic when it came to what he wanted. And tonight, what he wanted was you. He wanted you too much. And you folded to him, each and every time.

Once in the room, he set you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt. His bright blue eyes drank you in, and the intensity of his gaze made your skin flush with warmth.

“Satoru, my love.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” he interrupted, his tone soft but firm as he guided you to lie back. He climbed over you, his weight pinning you down just enough to remind you of how completely he had you. “Can’t tell me no? Or can’t look at me because you’re too embarrassed?”

You tried to cover your face, the heat in your cheeks unbearable, but Satoru wasn’t having it. He caught your wrists, pinning them above your head as he chuckled. “No hiding, my darling. I want to see you. All of you. Come on now.”

Your body quickly betrayed you, warmth pooling low in your belly as his bright eyes roamed over you, drinking in every little movement, every tremble. A sound echoes out your lips, feeling yourself needy for his touch.

At times, it felt like Schrödinger’s cat. There were moments when you were filled with uncertainty, wondering if you could ever truly be enough for someone like the beloved, the strongest Gojo Satoru. You knew he was everything—a god, untouchable in his power, his influence, his confidence.

And so, you couldn’t help but question whether a mere mortal like you could ever measure up to someone who had it all. You found yourself wondering if he truly wanted you, all of you, in the deepest sense. If the love you felt for him, the depth of your connection, was something that could flow both ways, something that he felt with the same intensity.

It was a constant battle between insecurity and trust. You had known love before, had felt it burn and then fade to ashes. Your past marriage, the pain, the heartbreak—it still lingered, a shadow that stretched across your memories.

But every time you thought of pulling back, of protecting yourself from the potential hurt, something inside you reminded you that this was different. Satoru wasn’t just anyone, and you weren’t just anyone to him. He wasn’t a man who would easily be swayed by fleeting attractions or empty promises. He was your god, and in his world, there was no one who could take your place.

Still, the doubts lingered. And just when you thought they might overtake you, he would remind you, remind both of you, of the undeniable connection between you. That there can only be this, this love that drowns you both or nothing else.

Satoru was always there, his presence suffocatingly constant, yet somehow comforting. He would show up at your door unannounced, as if he had no other place to be but with you. He would strip away the physical distance between you, his hands on your skin with the same ferocity, the same hunger, as if you were the only thing he needed at this moment.

Each time his hands moved over your body, each kiss he placed upon your lips, his desire wasn’t just physical. He was not like those men, he never will be. Because he wanted everything. He wanted to corrupt you, he wanted to own you, he wanted to love and embrace you.

Everything about it was deep, rooted in something raw, something primal. And he’ll never deny it. He’ll never deny his pleasure when it comes to you. Nothing about you should be denied. Only loved. Only cared for. As much as you care and love him too.

He would kiss you until your lips were bruised, until you couldn’t breathe without feeling his taste on your tongue. His hands would roam, making you moan, making you beg for more, each round of love-making leaving you gasping, crying out his name.

Your body would tremble with each wave of pleasure. And in the midst of all this, you couldn’t deny the feeling of belonging. He didn’t just take from you—he gave back in ways that made you feel cherished, wanted, desired beyond measure.

There were times, after each passionate encounter, when you’d lie in his arms, your heart still pounding in your chest, your breath still heavy. The doubts would still flicker in the back of your mind, but in his embrace, in his whispered words of reassurance, those doubts would fade, replaced by a warmth that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not ever.

“I’m yours, darling.” he would whisper against your skin, his voice thick with emotion, his hands gently tracing the curve of your body. “I’ll always be yours, no matter what. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

And in those moments, when his love for you was as undeniable as the air you breathed, you believed him. You had to. Because when you crawled back to him, just as he always crawled back to you, there was no room for doubt. He was yours, and you were his. And that was enough.

“Satoru, my love.” you whispered again, your voice trembling with both anticipation and shyness.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he hummed, “I missed you, darling. Every inch of you. And now, I’m not waiting another second.”

Before you could respond back to him, you felt his lips occupy your neck, trailing soft, deliberate kisses down to your collarbone. He took his time, savoring every shiver and sigh, until your body felt like it was a house on fire.

You could feel him bite against your neck, and then he nibbles, leaving you gasping for air as his body covers yours. And when he finally moved lower, his hands sliding down to hold your hips firmly in place, you knew what was coming.

“Satoru—” you started, but his smirk stopped you in your tracks.

“No hesitations.” he murmured, his voice rich with anticipation. “You’re mine, and I’ll remind you exactly what that means.”

And as he selfishly found your most sensitive place with the vigor of his tongue, as he drew out every moan and cry from you with expert ease and a smirk, you realized once again just how utterly wanton and utterly irresistible Satoru Gojo could be.

The world outside ceased to exist as Satoru poured all his pent-up longing into you. His finger’s touch the blossoming of your clit was purposeful yet teasing, drawing the most beautiful sounds from you that you couldn’t hold back no matter how much you tried.

You could feel your hips buck against his mouth, eagerly wishing for him to devour you over and over again with that tongue of his. It overwhelms you even more as he overwhelms your clit with wilder motions, watching you come undone and shake in front of him.

“Satoru. Fuckkkkkkk.” you whimpered, your hands clutching at the sheets above your head. “Gugh….”

“Stay still now, darling.” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, commanding hum. “Let me continue to take care of you.”

The heat of his breath against your sensitive skin was maddening, and you squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all. But Satoru wasn’t having that. He liked how beautiful your eyes were, how close they were to tears when he eats you out like he was a man hungry for survival.

Your mind was a haze of sensation, every nerve in your body alive and attuned to him. He didn’t let up—not even when your legs quivered beneath his steady hands or when you tried to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure.

He lets himself have a feast, over and over again, faster and then slower and then deeper and deeper. He never lets you have a guess when and where he would stop and go. As you feel your pleasure drive through his tongue and your clit surrenders to the movement of his expert fingers, you quiver against his hold.

You take a deep breath, feeling the pillows suffocate you as he raises himself, licking his lips of what remains of your pleasure. He smiles at you, almost too proudly, as he makes haste in tasting the pleasure that awashed from you to his fingers. You weren’t one to be brazen, and as eagerly wanton as him. But that sight could make you come even more.

You were trying to stand up, but he stopped you. You blinked at him. You wanted to do the same thing for him. You wanted to have him in your mouth and fill the whole of him. You wanted to feel him throb and then moan and then hold your head tight as he pushes over and over again in the depths of your throat.

“Look at me, my darling.” he said, his tone soft but insistent.

When you hesitated, his hands slid up to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he shifted, his face coming into view. Those brilliant blue eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that left you breathless. He was too impatient at times. Sometimes he just wanted to fill you, feel the depths of you to the brim. And you wanted him to.

“I said, look at me.”

Slowly, you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The sheer adoration in his expression caught you off guard. This wasn’t just about his selfishness or his need to claim you—it was about love, about devotion, unadulteratedly raw and unfiltered, expressed in a way only Gojo Satoru could manage.

“That’s better, don’t you think?” he said, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You tried to turn your face away, too flustered to respond, but he leaned up, catching your lips in a kiss that was both tender and consuming. You could almost certainly taste yourself on the tip of his tongue, the tongue he was forcing against your own in a passionate dance in your mouth.

“You drive me crazy, darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. “Every damn day, I think about you. About us. And no matter how busy I get, no matter how far I have to go, you’re always in my head.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. “Satoru…”

“I mean it, my darling.” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you fully. His hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, sweat glistening against your skin. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Don’t you ever forget that.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, as if he wanted to pour every ounce of his devotion into you. And when his hands began to wander once more, reigniting the fire he’d so expertly stoked, you gave in completely, letting him drown you in his love, his selfishness, and his unyielding desire.

Satoru’s gaze was molten, a slow-burning fire that spread warmth through your very core. His fingers brushed over your stomach, a feather-light touch that sent electricity dancing across your skin. He leaned closer, his lips barely a breath away from your ear, his voice a husky whisper steeped in unfiltered desire.

“You don’t know what you do to me, don’t you?” he murmured, his hand splaying possessively over your abdomen. “I can already see it, my darling. Your body, glowing and full, carrying my child. Ours. You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. I want that. I want you like that.”

He paused, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of your ear as he exhaled, his breath hot against your skin. “I want to fill you with me, make you mine in every way possible. No one else. Just you. Always you.”

The weight of his words, the sheer intensity in his voice, made your knees weak. His need wasn’t just physical. No, there was more than that. It was that closeness, that desire for that primal chaos, that deep devotion and passionate, unrelenting hunger that only you could sate.

It was an unspoken promise, one that bound you to him, body and soul. Marriage wasn’t needed. He was always going to be yours. You were only ever his. You were bound forever in that way. You don’t need anyone to tell you otherwise.

His hips snapped forward with a relentless precision, each gut-wrenching stroke tearing a gasp from your lips. He was mean, deliberate, his movements calculated to drive you to the brink and pull you back just to make you beg for more. His eager tip kissed your cervix with every thrust, a devastating mixture of pain and pleasure that left you trembling beneath him.

Satoru loved this too much, perhaps even more than you did. But perhaps, he adored it even more than you. He felt you too good, how much you clung to his cock. How much you eagerly wanted him to stay there forever. It felt delicious. It felt like a full meal, a meal that would satisfy him more than anything.

“You can take it, darling.” he growled, his voice a low, rough whisper against your ear, as if daring you to prove him wrong. “No matter how big, no matter how hungry, you always take me so good.”

The intensity in his god–like cerulean eyes bore into yours, the sick and cruel twist of his smirk telling you he enjoyed watching you unravel under his unyielding pace. You couldn’t hold enough to keep yourself from being shaken by how powerful every entrance and departure was from inside of you.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” he muttered, his tone dripping with a wicked edge that made your heart race. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

“I do.” You cry out to him, voice shaky from pleasure. Drool is falling from your lips, eyes shadowed with the despondence of the rising tension inside you. “Fuckkkkkkk. S–satoru! You’re…Oh—”

Every thrust felt like it carved his claim into your very being, leaving no doubt that he owned every inch of you in that moment—mind, body, and soul. No one else can ever know how good you feel. No one else could ever deserve to know that they could even pleasure you. Only him. Only he could do that.

His movements were merciless, each thrust a deliberate act of dominance as he pushed you to your limits. The stretch, the depth. All of it was overwhelming, almost too much, and yet your body betrayed you, arching into him as if begging for more.

The drag of his length was slow at first, almost teasing, before he snapped his hips forward again with a devastating force. His tip kissed your cervix repeatedly, a relentless rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain rippling through you. The sensation made your vision blur, a broken cry escaping your lips, only to be swallowed by his growl of satisfaction.

“You’re so good for me, darling.” he hissed against your ear, his voice a mix of rough desire and cruel amusement.

Each and every thrust, his closeness let his breath bleed hot against your sweaty, flushed skin. One hand gripped the edges of your waist, anchoring you in place as if to ensure you took every punishing inch.

And for a moment, he lets his eyes look down. He smirks, and then laughs. His bulge echoes against the flesh of your stomach as you moan, his cock pushing in and out at that moment. It felt addicting, to want to see that imprint on your belly.

“So perfect, taking me like this. You don’t even know how good you look, falling apart for me.”

There was no gentleness in him now, not when he wanted you even more, not when you taste so good. There was only a raw, primal need that left no room for tenderness. He was mean, unforgiving, every stroke designed to leave you trembling and desperate beneath him.

“You like it, don’t you?” he muttered, his smirk pressing against the curve of your neck. His words were both a statement and a challenge, daring you to deny the way your body responded to his cruelty. “Don’t lie to me. I feel how much you love it—how much you love me like this.”

And he was right. Every devastating thrust, every rough word, only pulled you deeper into the intoxicating haze of him, where nothing else mattered except the way he claimed you, completely and utterly his.

Tears fully blurred your vision, spilling over as the overwhelming sensation consumed you. The stretch, the depth, the unrelenting rhythm of his hips. It was too much and not enough all at once. You sobbed his name, your voice shaky and broken, and Satoru stilled for just a moment, his sharp gaze softening as he took you in.

“Crying for me already, sweetheart? We’re not even done with the first round.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, yet tinged with something tender.

His thumb brushed away the tear slipping down your cheek, though his hips rolled forward again, slower now but no less devastating. He presses a kiss upon your cheek, letting you take a moment to breathe. HIs eyes meet yours.

“You’re so perfect like this, you know that? So good for me.”

“Ffffff…..Sa…Satoru.” You moaned against him, your glossy eyes zoned out as you clung to him and pulled him closer. “Faster. Please. Please. I’m close.”

His smirk deepened when another whimper escaped you, the tears still streaking down your face as you clung to him. He laughs as he takes his cock out and then pushes deeply once again, causing you to cry out loud and feel him move faster than ever before.

“Your wish is my command.” He says to you, leaning against your body closer. “I’ll always make it come true.”

Slowly, he starts caving into your neck and bite it once again, earning another whimper as he pushed deeper into you in a thunderstrike. He lifts his head and looks at your fucked up face, smiling.

He pushes his free hand upwards, and lets his fingers push into your mouth, thrusting it to the speed of his cock. You gag as he pushes in, and then start bobbing your head. He smiles at you. He cleans your mucus on his fingers with his tongue with ease.

“God, you’re beautiful, darling.” he breathed, his lips brushing against your temple. “It tastes good everywhere too.”

His fingers pushing through deeper and deeper on your throat before he lets it out, your mucus coating every bit of his long fingers. He presses a kiss against the corner of your lips. Your tears poured from your face once again, moaning even more as he pushed deeper inside of you.

“You know what drives me crazy, though? Thinking about how you could be mine forever. My pretty darling wife, carrying my baby, your belly is round and glowing just for me.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat through your already burning body, and he chuckled darkly, his hips snapping forward again, earning another gasp from you. In that moment, it felt tighter inside of you too, even hotter than before.

“You like that, huh?” he cooed, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper. “Thinking about being full of me, about me giving you everything. You’d look so damn good, carrying my child, showing everyone you’re mine. ”

His hand slid to rest over your abdomen, pressing gently as he thrust deeper, his pace quickening as his control began to fray. “Crying, begging, and falling apart for me... just like this. You’re perfect, baby. Made for me. And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

Your body tensed as the pleasure peaked, the overwhelming sensation ripping through you in waves. A choked cry left your lips, your vision going white as your release shattered you. Your body trembled, clenching around him as aftershocks coursed through you, leaving you gasping and utterly undone beneath him.

“Inside.” You cried to him, keeping him closer as you came, sweat and tears mixing against your face. Your eyes begged his own blue. “Neeeeeeddddd…… you to come i-inside, ‘toru. P-please, Ohhhhhhhhh.”

Satoru groaned, the sound deep and raw, his control slipping as he chased his own end. He lowers his head, trying to concentrate. It all felt too good. Too damn good. And he wanted nothing more than this. Only this, for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, just like that.” he growled to you, placing his lips on your own, drowning you as his balls slapped against the edges of your skin.

His thrusts grow ever more erratic, slamming into you harder as your body milked him. His fingers gripped your hips tighter, marking them red. He pushes and pushes, feeling his head falling forward to rest against yours as he buried himself deep one final time.

A guttural moan escaped him, his body stilling as he came, warmth spilling into you and filling you completely. You gasped so loudly that it echoed in the room, almost broken by pleasure, scratching his back. He held you there, locked in place, his chest heaving against yours as he caught his breath.

It takes a while before you come down from your high, as much as he did. He pushes in and out, trying to force what he had left behind locked into the crevices of your caverns. When you came to, you managed to get your breath together.

“You’re insatiable.” You say, almost haggard sounding. He did a number on you, with his fingers. You press a kiss on his shoulders. “You’re lucky we’d have this room sound–proof.”

“You’re more unbelievable, you’re too loud.” he murmured, his voice breathless and laced with reverence. You smack his arm lightly. He laughs. “What? It’s true. You screamed so loudly. Multiple times, might I add.”

You sighed, smiling at him and kissed his arm. He smiles back at you, his eyes full of stars. Satoru didn’t pull away, instead wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His lips pressed against your damp forehead, a soft kiss that contrasted the intensity of moments before.

“Do you wanna know?”

“Do I wanna know, what?”

“You’re everything to me, you know that?” he whispered, his tone softer now, tinged with the kind of affection that made your heart ache. “You’re all that I want.”

“I know.” You whispered back to him, looking at him with love in the eyes. “You’re all I want too.”

“Hm, I’m glad to know that.” He says, with a boyish smile.

“Me too.” You retorted.

You looked at each other for longer and laughed together. He nozzles his head against your neck and lays on top of you. He makes no effort to pull out or get off you. You make no effort to pull him away either. You were happy with having him like this.

As you both lay there, tangled together and basking in the afterglow, his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin. You brush your fingers against his hair, playing with it with the tenderness that could only come from the purest of touches, the purest of loves.

“One day, darling,” he murmured again, almost as if trying to convince himself as much as you. “This’ll be more than just a thought. You won’t have to wait for me all the time. I’ll bring you to my home. And I’ll marry you. And your child will be mine too. And I’ll give you more children.”

Satoru's words hung in the air like a promise, heavy with meaning. His voice was soft, almost distant, as if he was letting his own thoughts slip out into the space between you, unsure of how they would land.

The casual way he spoke of the future, of a life where you weren’t just a fleeting part of his world, but a permanent fixture. It felt almost surreal. He didn’t look up at you when he said it, his eyes lost in some distant horizon of his own creation, but it didn’t matter. The sincerity in his voice was enough to fill the silence that followed.

Each word was a brick, building a future with you, a future that felt distant and yet so close. The idea of you, of your life together, expanding in ways you never imagined. His words were not just a promise but an affirmation of everything you had felt quietly—hope, desire, security.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like he wasn’t just a man in your life; he was weaving you into his, into his plans, into his future. He wasn’t some fleeting lover, nor was this an infatuation to be dismissed with time.

This was something deeper. You weren’t just a part of his life for the moment; you were meant to be with him in every possible way, in the long run, in the future he envisioned.

His voice faded for a moment as if the weight of what he had said caught up with him. Then, when he looked at you, finally meeting your gaze, there was something even more powerful in his eyes than before. It was as if the gravity of his own words had settled in, and with it, the weight of his promise.

And just as quickly, he smiled, that mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips, his hand brushing against yours in that familiar, intimate way. "You'll see, darling. I won’t make you wait forever."

Those words, spoken so simply, were a promise that neither of you could deny. The future you feared would never come, the one that would leave you longing and waiting, now seemed irrelevant. Satoru’s presence, his plan, his love—they would be enough. You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the thought.

"You know, I’ll be old when our children come of age, Satoru." you said, the quiet weight of reality creeping into your voice.

The thought of raising more children together was something you had never truly entertained, but now it felt like an inevitable future. You were older, yes, and you couldn’t ignore the time that had passed. Satoru’s laughter broke the moment, rich and easy, as if your words didn’t even touch the confidence that surrounded him.

“That doesn’t matter, darling.” he replied, his voice as warm as it was reassuring. “I’ll just be a growing old man with his older wife he loves most in the world.”

His teasing tone eased the tension in your chest, though there was an underlying sincerity to his words that made you pause. When he spoke like that, so effortlessly confident in the love he had for you, the past, and all the doubts you had once held seemed insignificant. It was as though, in his eyes, you were already everything he wanted.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you muttered, your heart fluttering a little as you reached for his hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “But I guess I’ll let you get away with it.”

Satoru chuckled, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. “You know I’ll always get away with it, darling.” he teased.

His voice softened, the playful edge disappearing as he leaned closer, his gaze growing more intense. “And as for the rest, I’ll spend every day making sure you don’t regret it. You and our family... that’s all that matters to me. I’ll make sure of it.”

There was such fierce determination in his words, so much love, that you couldn’t help but feel reassured. In this moment, you realized that no matter how much time passed, no matter what challenges might come, Satoru was right. You didn’t need to worry about the future, about the things that might separate you. Because in the end, you would always have him.

You squeezed his hand, the laughter fading into something more meaningful. "You always know how to make me feel like I’m the only one who matters."

Satoru smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Because you are, darling. You always will be."

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froggibus · 5 months ago

Note

Saw your post!! Any thoughts on what Junkrat, Mei, Venture, and Sombra might do if their respective s/o's wanted a prize from a claw machine? Who can actually do? What do they do if they can't?

Claw Machine - Junkrat, Mei, Sombra & Venture

Genre: fluff, little crack

Summary: how your s/o would win (or steal) you a prize from a claw machine

CW: sombra’s a jerk, established relationships, theft (in a funny silly goofy way), Ven gets stuck in a claw machine, none of these people are good at games sorry

thanks so much for giving me a cute fluffy req ^^ I really appreciate it. sometimes writing so much smut gets a little overwhelming so I am grateful for fun little ideas like this!! 💓 hope you’re having a great day lovely someone pls remind me in the morning to give this a proper banner

@kitsune-loves-fics wrote a beautiful continuation of Venture’s part! come check it out here 💓

Junkrat:

insists he’s the best at claw machine games

he is not.

however he will spend all day and all the money he has just so he could get you whatever prize you wanted

unrelated but Mako is probably crazy at claw games

keeps promising he’ll win it for you but progressively gets worse and worse at the game

eventually gets annoyed and starts shaking the machine

please walk away it’s so embarassing

if that doesn’t work he will literally break the glass and just grab the toy for you

gets down on his knee like a dork and hands it to you

“for you, little cricket”

grabs your hand and runs away giggling from security

you’re legally obligated to keep the toy forever or else he’ll get sad

Mei:

probably average at the claw game

she won’t try all day but if you really want it, she’ll give it at least ten tries

gets kind of confused when she can’t win and decides to apply some science to it

literally calculates a bunch of math based on how fast it moves, how far away it is, size of everything etc

the math still doesn’t help

some kid probably comes up and does it on the first try and she’s staring at them like ‘how’

is completely focused on this damn claw machine now just to get you a little plushy

please bring her a drink or something to boost her mood

when you walk away she’ll try to put her hand in the machine but her arms are too short :(

in the end she recruits snowball and together they manage to get you your little plushy ^^

however she feels so guilty about it after she has to confess to you

Sombra:

she will never let herself be defeated by ANY machine

she’ll probably tell you to win it for yourself and lean against the machine with a smirk while she watches you

you’ll pout at her and beg for her help but she wants to see how ‘dedicated’ you are first (whatever that means)

eventually she gives in (she can never resist you) and steps up to try the game

and immediately loses.

doesn’t even try again, she just hacks it and forces it to do whatever she wants

doesn’t just grab you one plushy, she practically cleans out the whole machine

“liv can we just leave? people are starting to stare?”

“just one more, cariño”

it will not be just one more, but how can you resist when she’s being so sweet?

Venture:

dork ass steps right up the minute you press your face on the glass and coo about how cute it is

“don’t worry babe, I got this”

(they really do not)

they will hyperfocus on it and play it for literal hours

they’re not even bad at it—they keep winning prizes, just not the one that you want

you could leave for ten minutes and come back and they’ll still be trying it

after maybe an hour of playing they get you to stand on the side and shake it for them

if that doesn’t work, they try to shove their arm up there but they’re so muscly they get stuck

you end up having to call the fire department to get them unstuck lol

and the owner of the place feels so bad (or maybe embarrassed) for you guys that they unlock the machine and just give you the toy

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 months ago

Note

straddling jen check (female r) for kinktober maybe? love ur writing btw 🫶

you're so sweet, thank you sm! and thanks for the kinktober request too <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 9: Jennifer Check being straddled by a fem reader

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, straddling, grinding/partially clothed sex, heavy makeout session, swearing, dom Jen, sub reader, some possessiveness from Jen, could be seen as dubcon in some places but everything was consented to beforehand, mentioned edgin/overstimulation, Jen is a little bit mean in this one I'm not gonna lie (I have no regrets)

You loved being around Jennifer. Her mere presence was like a hard drug to you, and you were nothing more than an addict who couldn't help but want more and more.

It was difficult for you to keep your hands off her in public, and even more so when the two of you were alone. Not that she minded, of course. It fact, she encouraged it.

She was currently pressed close to you on the small bed in your room, her arms wrapped tightly around your neck while you tangled your fingers through her hair. "God, you taste so fucking good," she purred against your mouth before capturing your lips in yet another hungry kiss.

That was actually relatively tame compared to what she usually said. Most of the things she whispered to you when you were all over each other like this would cause a nun to clutch her rosary and faint.

You didn't say anything in response, simply unable due to just how much you found yourself caught up in the moment. It was always so easy for you to forget about everything else when you were with her. She was the most important thing in your life, after all.

"Get on top of me," she suddenly demanded, starting to tug you down on top of her. Never one to say no to her, you obliged, only breaking the kiss for a moment as you got in her lap, your thighs straddling hers.

Jennifer could feel the heat coming from between your legs, and it only made her cunt pulse in anticipation. It didn't help that the both of you were currently stripped down to your underwear.

She placed her hands on your hips, pulling you even closer before meeting your mouth with hers again. "No one else gets to ever touch you like this, do you understand me?"

You felt a shiver of delight going down your spine at her words. Of course you understood her. You'd be crazy to even think about being close to someone who wasn't her like this.

"I never want to see you hanging around with people other than me, got it?" She gave your bottom lip a sharp bite to help put emphasis on her point. "Never."

If you hadn't loved her before, you definitely did now. You hardly even notice that your bottom lip had started to bleed from her bite. "Never," you agreed as you gave her another kiss. She could taste the coppery tang from the little drops of blood on your lip, and you could taste the fruity flavor of her lipgloss.

It was all becoming too much for Jennifer to be able to control herself for much longer. She needed you, and she needed you now.

Gripping onto your hips tightly, she forced you to move them against her, instantly moaning into the kiss when she felt the heat from your core getting closer to hers. Your hands moved to hold onto her shoulders for support, breaking the kiss for the time being so you could catch your breath.

"Tell me that you're mine. Tell me just how much I mean to you." Her near-perfect nails dug into your skin as she spoke, causing you to let out a gasp.

"I- I'm yours," you breathed out, desperately rocking your hips into hers as you tried to gain some friction for your throbbing clit. "You- You mean the absolute world to me. I'm nothing without you."

It was true, and you both knew it. There was no way you could live without Jennifer, not when it was already so difficult for you to breathe whenever she was gone.

Between the two of you, it wasn't long before both of your underwear was almost completely soaked, dampened by your growing arousal. The bed began to creak as you moved against each other, soft pants and moans breaking the silence.

Burying your face into the side of her neck, you peppered the area with needy kisses as you continued to grasp onto her shoulders. She roughly guided your hips' movements, jolts of pleasure wracking your body as your clit brushed against where your underwear was clinging to your wet pussy.

"J- Jen- can't- too much-" You whimpered out, pressing your face further into her neck as you felt your stomach begin to fill with that familiar feeling of warmth that usually came when you were getting close.

She smirked and kept going, starting to move her hips up into yours so the vibrations that were hitting your core would be a lot more prevalent to you. If there was one thing she was good at, it was putting you right on the edge and keeping you there.

It took a lot of begging and pleading from you for her to finally let you finish. When she did, she only gave you a couple minutes break before starting back up again.

Your hands gripped tightly onto her arms as you tried to help ground yourself. "It- it's too much- Jen-"

She merely let out a scoff before leaning down to speak directly into your ear in that low, sultry tone of hers. "What, you didn't think we were done yet, did you? I haven't finished yet, and if I'm not done, then you're not. Now quit squriming."

You could only nod in agreement at her words, unable to protest any further. After all, you were a hopeless addict, and she was your precious drug. And when has an addict ever been known to say no when they hear their vices calling out to them?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist | Kinktober 2024 info post/prompt list

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @theonetruepotato87 @madisonbeerssecretwife @caplanreblogsfics @certifiedwomenlover

#kinktober day 9 #kinktober #lanawinterscigarettes kinktober 2024 #jennifers body #jennifers body imagine #jennifers body x reader #jennifers body fic #jennifers body smut #jennifer check #jennifer check imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check fic #jennifer check smut #fem reader #x fem reader #jennifer check x fem reader #kinktober 2024

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inkykeiji · 1 year ago

Text

you be my revolver, i got you in my hands

character: choso kamo x fem!reader

genre: curseless!au, smut

notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names

words: 6k

synopsis:

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.

You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too.

It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart.

You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes).

Family.

Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives.

Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate.

And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan.

That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible.

It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want.

And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.

Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.

But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.

Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.

The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling.

As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want.

Because it always is.

And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed.

Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed.

Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded.

Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels.

“Oh, I remember this one!”

A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck.

“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.”

“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle.

“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.”

It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.

“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.”

“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips.

“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…”

Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears.

“Wh-What’s that?”

He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.

And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole.

“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock.

The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.

“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…”

Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.

“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”

“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.

“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.

A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”

“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”

“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”

“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.”

You can’t always get what you want.

That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you.

“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny.

“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?”

He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.

He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too.

“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please.

But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile.

No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.

You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention.

“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.”

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony.

“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?”

“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.”

No.

“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”

No.

“Can I? Pretty please?”

No-no-no-no-no!

He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do.

He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example.

But he can’t.

He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth.

He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.

Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.

“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.

He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.

“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”

And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup.

How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?

“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Really?”

And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile.

You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want.

“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.”

The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.”

He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”

“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.”

He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat.

“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”

Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth.

It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.

“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!”

“God,” he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw.

“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.”

A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted.

“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff.

“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest.

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”

“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.”

He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple.

“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity.

The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs.

You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity.

And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.

But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.”

And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.

He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should.

He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.

You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.

“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?”

The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.

“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little.

“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?”

“Well, sometimes I…”

The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.”

There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot?

“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”

“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…”

Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water.

“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?”

“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…”

Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.

“Do you think about me, onii-chan?”

Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.

Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.

You fucking know he does.

And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.

He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer.

It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores.

He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”

Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.

“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?”

Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes.

“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”

A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear.

“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit.

“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.”

Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.

A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.

He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific.

“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it.

His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.”

And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.

It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.

But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint.

He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder.

But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.

He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.

He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps.

Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?”

“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—”

Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.

Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice.

But not him.

No, he knows better now.

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”

“No I’m not!”

“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.

“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls.

The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.

“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!”

A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.

“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.”

“You little bitch!”

His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight.

“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”

“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?”

Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower.

A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.

“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful.

Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching.

“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes, onii-chan.”

“Good girl.”

And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine.

It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.

“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.

“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”

The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.

“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.”

A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy.

He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure.

“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”

And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.

The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.

It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.

It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”

Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good!

Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth.

“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?”

Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan!

“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”

Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars.

“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.

And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.

“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?”

“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.

“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.”

Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal.

“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous.

The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.

“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!”

“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine.

But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!”

“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.

You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix.

“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!”

“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form.

“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?”

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #this ended up being waaaay longer than i originally indended #absolutely no one is surprised #tw:pseudocest

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bumblebriez · 4 months ago

Text

Love Stricken (PT.1)

(Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!Reader)

(PT.2)

⚠️⚠️⚠️: Smutty smutty smut, Swearing. Drinking. Gojo in loooove

Never in a million years would you think, you'd catch the eyes of a certain jujutsu sorcerer but you did and with that came alot of consequences. That you would eventually find out the hard way.

Your parents vanished a good couple of years ago with no knowledge of why and where, leaving you; the eldest, to care and provide for your younger siblings. Being responsible and forgetting about the life you used to live, you felt lost. Struggling a lot with your self worth.

Your best friend took it upon herself to finally get you to live your life a little more by taking you out on the town for a night.

But you found that night was the start of your downfall.

I plan to turn this into a series eventually and this is also the first time I'm writing in a third person, so there could be a few mistakes not to mention the spelling and grammar might be a little baaad. I'll try to fix them when I can. I'm also not the greatest at writing descriptions.

********

"See? Didn't I tell you, you would have fun." Your best friend shouted over the loud booming club music and the noises of the on going clubbers.

You rolled your eyes slightly, head lightly bobbing to the music as you took a sip from the straw in your drink, vodka and cranberry was your drink of choice. It definitely wasn't your first but after the persistent nagging from your bestie to actually drink something alcoholic, you went with the safe one.

"Yeah I loved the fact that I already have a migraine!" You shouted back, eyes squinting from the bright strobe lights.

From the moment you walked in on the party scene, you felt like you were being watched, as soon as your foot hit the concrete floor. You couldn't pinpoint where or who but you could feel their glaze burn holes into you, perhaps it was just the swarm that surrounded you, you couldn't tell.

"You are so dull now! You use to love going out!" You watched as Zariah downed the two shots she had ordered for herself, deciding it'll be better to not delay the inevitable.

"That was before I had kids to look after." She pouted slightly, her hand gripping your shoulder, moving closer to your ear.

"That's why you need to enjoy yourself tonight! Get fucked up, maybe even get fucked? Hmmm~" you shake your head, giggling nervously slightly at the continuous pressure. It was her plan all along. Getting you out there, finding a short distraction from what you were dealing with currently.

You twirled your straw around in your drink, pushing the Ice to the different sides of the glass.

"Stop thinking about them. They will be fine! Rast will be taking great care of them! He wants you to enjoy your night too."

Truth is.. Ever since your parents disappeared, leaving no trace behind except other children they forgot about for you to look after; to become their legal guardian. You have not had much time to yourself.

The years started to flicker by and the realisation started to set in that this was your life now. Your parents were not coming back. They were your kids now. It's a hard pill to swallow and frankly not one you were interested in but what else could you do? You felt obligated to care and provide for your siblings.

The more you worried about your siblings, the more you lost yourself. Your confidence had plummeted and your self image was shattered. Though you wouldn't let anyone know. The looks those skinny tan gorgeous girls would give you as you passed them on the street, did not go unnoticed.

The small remarks guys would leave you to ponder over, never far from your mind.

The comments you received from a previous ex, picking at your self esteem, your self confidence; resided in your core constantly.

You'd never show them that it affected you. You held your head high, trying to fake the confidence you once had.

But when you get home, it was a different story. In the privacy of your own bedroom was when the waterworks started. The constant peering in the mirror, pointing out all the differences between you and other girls. Comparing yourself and wishing for things that were in your eyes imperfections, just to go away.

You were happy alone. At least that's what you told yourself. You didn't need a guy. Especially when you looked like you.

Maybe sometimes you're too hard on yourself. Maybe.

"I don't mean to weird you out but that gooorgeous man has been eyeing you for ages." Zariah broke you out of your zoning, pointing slightly in the direction behind you.

"Consider me weirded out. Don't be silly. You mean eyeing you?" You didn't even bothered turning around to follow, he clearly wasn't looking at you. Maybe at someone who was further down the bar. If not your gorgeous best friend.

You can't seem to help yourself though, your eyes peek around before you could even react, a quick subtle peek.

You flick over the crowd of different people, trying to find the guy your best friend was talking about, until your eyes finally land on who you were looking for.

She wasn't lying.

He was *chefs kiss*

And he was already looking at you.

You couldn't see his eyes since they were hiding behind a pair of low sunglasses. His hair was almost pure white, reflecting off the neon lights that scattered around the room.

A white button up shirt with the a few of the buttons undone, sleeves pushed up to his elbows; drink resting in his longer slender fingers.

Your eyes widen as he tipped his glass at you, a devilish grin resting on his lips.

You quickly faced your best friend returning to raised eyebrows and a cheeky smirk.

"Don't even say anything." You growled, feeling almost foolish that a man of that pristine stature could be even interested in something like you.

Zariah held her hands up in defence "I wasn't gonna but he is fine." She took a slow gulp from her drink, eyes avoiding my glaze.

"You have a boyfriend." You watched her roll her eyes at you, placing her cup back down on the harden wood. "I can still appreciate a good looking guy or a girl for that matter." Her eyebrows wiggled aggressively causing you to sigh dramatically, resting your elbow on the bar; chin resting in the palm of your hand.

Just as you were about to take another sip of your drink, Zariah's eyes widen slightly before spinning around in her chair facing away from you; back in full view.

Before you could even ask what her problem was, you felt a presence appear behind you; them looming over you.

"What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?" You stifled a chuckle that tried to escape your throat as you turned to face the new comer, realising it was the guy you were previously checking out. Allegedly.

He leant against the bar, resting on his elbow, his full attention and glaze set on your form. That devilish grin still resting on his lips. Making you feel almost uneasy. Under pressure almost.

"Wow. How many girls have you used that one liner on?"

He tilted his head slightly, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, his eyes peering from behind them. They were stunning. The brightest blue you had ever seen. It was reflecting an ocean. Unnaturally glistening, the specks of colour flowing like a river. Maybe it was just the lightning or maybe you are already tipsy from one drink.

"Was waiting to use it on the right girl." You hummed before taking a sip from your straw, fingers pressed tightly at the tip, your eyes never leaving his as you look at him with doe eyes.

"How charming of you." You smirked moving the empty glass away from you.

"I'm Satoru Gojo but you can call me Satoru. What about you gorgeous?" He pressed with a light flick of his head, his tongue wetting his lips.

"Just Y/n." You felt a slight heat starting to form within your face, this Satoru was clearly flirting with you and you had no idea how to take it. This felt a little be overwhelming for you. He was drop dead handsome and he was showing some sort of interest in you.

"Well 'Just Y/n' can I buy you another drink?" You don't say anything as you look down at your empty glass before giving a nod.

You both sit there for a couple moments more, just small talking as you take your time sipping away at your drink. A laugh here and a giggle there as Satoru throws a joke your way; slowly opening you up, allowing you to get comfortable in his presence. Completely forgetting you did not come here by yourself.

Gojo quickly downs the rest of his drink before his eyes fall on you once more "Do you wanna dance?"

Your breathing hitched slightly at the invitation, Satoru was already moving before you could even respond, pulling you by your hand through the crowds and on to the dance floor.

He placed your hand on his shoulder, placing his own large hands on your hips, guiding them to the rhythm of the music. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, chest pressing against chest.

A small sweet smile made its way to your lips as you stare up at the much taller man through your eyelashes.

You started to feel a bit exposed, your eyes moved around the room, briefly looking at all the different couples that surrounded the two of you. You caught a few glimpses of a cluster of girls that weren't that far from you, noises scrunched up at you, giggling as they spoke to each other, watching you with envy. It was frankly very uncomfortable.

Fed up with the looks, you pulled back from Satoru abruptly "I'm sorry, I can't-." You muttered more to yourself than him.

But just as turned around, back facing the towering man, he grabs you by your wrist, pulling you back kind of aggressively into his chest.

Your ass press up against him, his hands resting on your hips, digging in slightly to hold you there.

"Don't think about them. Think about me." He whispered in your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine causing goosebumps all over your skin. A quiet gasp leaves your lips at the suggesting tone.

"Think about the way I'm pressed up against you." Our hips moved in a slow dance, his hands guiding me to grind against him.

"Think about the way my hands feel." Your eyes fluttered closed as one of his hands traced your prominent curves over the fabric of your dress, pulling it up slightly when he gets to your thighs, exposing some hidden skin.

"The way my lips feeling on your skin." His teeth grazed your ear lobe, moving to your neck to leave soft burning pecks on your skin, a very small whimper comes from you from the actions.

Your head lobbed back against his shoulder, allowing more access for him. Your skin was burning from the kisses. the touches.

You continue to grind against him, feeling more turned on by the minute. Especially hearing the shutters from his throat when you rub him the right way, making you uncontrollably wet.

"My god. You're intoxicating." He breathed out as he held you against him, tighter. His hand moving up your body, painfully slowly before gripping gently on to your neck, using a ringed finger to push your chin in his direction.

You let out a soft noise as your lips were in proximity of each other, you could feel the essence of where his lips need to be; hovering.

"Think about how our lips feel..." he press a soft peck on your lips before capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. You couldn't help the noise that flowed out of you. This was so.. hot. He was hot. He was making you hot.

You leaned up to press your lips to his, nearly almost fed up with the teasing. Both of you move in sync with each other, Satoru's hand still holding your neck with no pressure. Keeping you aligned with him as your mouths explore each others; His rings leaving a cold sensation as they graze your skin.

"Wanna get out of here?" He mumbled against your lips, kissing you after each word. You smiled slightly as much as you could.

"Yes please Satoru." A slight groan came from the milky skinned man, pulling you even harder against him. "I'm loving hearing you say my name baby." A little giggle escaped your lips as he nuzzled his nose with yours.

As you both rushed through the bodies on bodies, you leave Satoru alone for just a minute while he ordered an Uber, leaving you to remember why you were here and who you were with.

"Damn. I mean damn. You better be coming over to tell me, you're going home with him." Zariah exclaimed already holding out your belongings as you made your way over to her with a bright smile on your face.

Without saying too much, you quickly lay a fresh kiss on her cheek "I'll see you tomorrow." Your best friend let out a squeal of excitement, watching your retreating form.

"Fucking finally. He better fuck her good." Zariah mumbled to herself before downing the rest of her drink. Accomplished her mission and ready to go home.

You and Satoru walk out of the club, fingers intertwined. Immediately spotting our ride. He leads you towards the SUV, opening the door open for you. Like a gentleman.

You express your appreciation before hoping in and moving over to the other side, mumbling a quick greeting to the driver.

Gojo closes the door behind him once he jumps in, scooting closer to you, not even bothering to put a seatbelt on; which the driver doesn't enforce either.

Frankly he wasn't all too bothered with keeping a conversation but that didn't seem to stop the man who was inviting you back to his.

"Had a busy night so far?" Gojo asked the driver as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, his other hand resting on your thigh.

You couldn't focus on both of the men conversing when Satoru hands was rubbing patterns into your skin, starting to go high and closer to where was needed to be touched. Teasing you.

You tried to control your breath, ignoring the neediness you were currently experiencing. You pressed a hand on his chest, coming to rest your head. Your eyes still stuck on his dangerous hand.

Your jaw clenched as his hand did in fact go higher, biting your lip as you feel his index finger press against the fabric of your panties; causing you to seize up.

Your eyes look to Satoru, witnessing a cheeky smirk resting on his lips as he continues to chat with the Uber driver. Feigning innocence.

Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head when he continued to rub at your clothed cunt. Your panties becoming wetter and wetter the more he pushed. You started to bite your finger knuckle to hold in any noises that might try to escape you.

You couldn't believe he would even try to do this right in the middle of this car ride, thankfully you were out of view. At least you hoped..

You started to bite harder when his finger pushed aside your panties and swiped at your slick folds, subconsciously you opened your legs wider for him. Scooting down so you were hanging off the seat.

The biting got harder when he plunged a finger past your walls, pumping in and out slowly. Curling in the right spot. His other hand was ghosting over the skin on your shoulders, causing you to shiver while being fingered in the backseat of this strangers truck.

"Ahh shit. Sorry guys. Just gotta make a quick stop. Didn't realise I was low on gas."

"No worries man. You do you." Gojo spoke up still pumping his finger into you, slightly picking up the pace but still managing to conceal you.

The very moment the man jumped out of the car, letting you guys know he'll only be a few minutes, Satoru turned to you, pushing your legs apart further "Two minutes, That's all I need."

You let out the moans you had been holding in, gripping on to his forearm as his pace became aggressive. Nothing you have felt with any man. He was hitting the right spot over and over again with his long fingers. One you honestly didn't think you had. If he kept at this, you were definitely going to cum. Which shocked you to your core.

"Who knew you were so dirty. Letting me do this to you at the chance of getting caught." He moan slightly, adding another finger to the mix. Curling up wards, pulling a quiet cry from you.

"Holy shit-" you whimpered as you felt electricity spreading throughout your body, his fingers felt so nice inside you. Gliding in and out of your wet pussy, the squelching noises were more prominent now.

"You're already so wet.. probably making a mess on these leather seats. I turn you on that much huh? God you're fucking hot." A deep growl erupted from his throat as his fingers continued to plunge deeper. Faster.

"You gonna cum? You gonna cum on these fingers? I want you too. Cum for me baby." Not only was the pleasure on a whole another level, the shock was too. How was it possible that this guy could very much bring you to the edge in five minutes? This was nothing you had ever experienced before and you are only just getting started.

You couldn't even form words, that's how bad the effect was, they only came out in moans and whines. You were nearly over the edge, stars were appearing in your vision. You squeezed harder on his forearm, nails digging deeper as you started your ascent.

"Oh fuck- I'm gonna- shit." You babbled out, your legs started to quiver as you felt yourself approaching the high, Satoru had brought you too only using his fingers.

"That's it baby. Cum all over these fingers, all over the seats." His words quite literally brought you to the edge, you felt your walls clenched around his fingers, starting to flail against him. He let out a low groan feeling you tighten around his fingers, his cock was becoming uncomfortable hard through his pants; just at the sight of you alone. The thought of you cumming on his cock. Squeezing him so nicely. Gojo was excited.

Excited to fuck the shit out of you.

Your mouth formed an O as you felt the orgasm wash over, leaving you a panting mess. You were left with no words. Completely and utterly stunned. You've never came so fast or so hard in your life, not even by your fingers and certainly not by a man.

Satoru pressed a sweet kiss on your temple before pulling his fingers out, a small sob leaving your mouth at the bareness. He lifted his fingers to his mouth before eagerly sucking your juices off.

"Mmm. So sweet." You honestly thought you would cum again. This was so embarrassing to you. You were so hot and turned on. You honestly just wanted to fuck him right here and now, not even caring if the driver came back or not. You were becoming inpatient.

It seemed Satoru felt the same way, once he caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils, your face covered in need, he knew he was in for a long night. Satoru smirked dangerous before pressing his fingers up to your lips, not needing to wait too long when you didn't even hesitate to open, sucking contentedly on his fingers. Loving the feeling as your tongue twirled around them.

"Oh fuck-" Satoru shuttered with a slight roll of his eyes, you were something else.

Thank goodness for blacked out windows..

The driver came back, finally for what felt like hours to you, returning on the path to the destination in question.

You sat there completely dazed, thinking of what had just transpired. Trying to ignore your juices that were oozing out of you. While Satoru was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his hand was lying in your lap and you were just playing with his fingers, his rings. The fingers that just made you have possibly the best orgasm of your life but you definitely knew that was going to change. Real quick.

But a thought couldn't help but sneak in and ruin your buzzed feeling.

How many girls has he made cum with these hands. Said the same shit too. You weren't special. You were just that, another girl to get his dick wet.

But you shouldn't care, this was only fun. This is only suppose to be a hook up. No matter if he made you feel like the only girl in the world for the night. He was good at was he does. He was good at making you feel good in more ways than physical.

The drive felt like hours, you felt like you were losing your mind as Satoru's hands were exploring your body. Trying to push aside the unsettling feeling when he brushed over your extra layers.

From the outside it seemed he didn't even care that you were a larger woman but what worried you was what he was thinking. Your head was full of intrusive thoughts.

Did he really find you attractive?

When he looked at you did he see something more?

Was he disgusted?

Was he regretting this and just being nice?

Far far out of your league.

Little did you know, Gojo Satoru found you absolutely beautiful. All six of his eyes spotted you as soon as you stepped foot in the establishment.

You were positively delicious.

He just had to have you.

And now he does. He couldn't be more happy.

"I can hear those cogs turning in that pretty head of yours." You looked towards Satoru, forcing a smile as he gently brushed his knuckle across your jaw. A small sweet smile resting on his lips; his face close to yours.

"You're really attractive." You simply said, taking in his features properly, getting a clearer picture. Away from all of bright and flashing lights.

His eyes were more sparkling than before, you found yourself looking away every now again, afraid you'd be put under a spell. Not that you'd would mind anyway..

His bone structure was out of this world, it's like he was sculpted by a god or maybe he was just a god.

He was uncomfortably ravishing.

"Mmm I get that a lot. I'm pretty hot. But you." Your eyes widen a little at his comment, not sure how to take it. His hand cupped your cheek, his eyes peering into yours.

"You are crazy fucking hot. That curvy body is going to be the death of me. I mean.. I'd die a happy man in between those thighs." You bite your bottom lip, completely speechless. This man was turning you to putty and no matter how much your body was trying to tell you he was lying. You knew deep down he meant every word.

You were shell shocked.

And unbelievably horny.

The wait was over, you had arrived at the destination. Your eyes glazed over the very large and lavish apartment complex. A completely different place to where you resided. A decently ran down 4 bedroom home that you were pretty positive was still full of mold, no matter how hard you cleaned.

Your mind immediately went into autopilot, as Satoru lead you out of the truck, muttering a quick 'thank you' to the Uber.

Satoru pulled you with him as you both stride towards the entrance, your fingers intertwined. He lead you into the lobby, towards one of the many elevators and as soon as those doors closed. As soon as he had pressed the button, you were pressed up against the glass wall. Your leg hanging loosely over his hip, hand placed securely behind your knee.

"Satoru.. they have cameras.." you whispered as he placed sloppy kisses along your neck.

"Mmm say my name again." He grumbled against your skin, having no care in the world for your protests. The only care was to hear you scream his name, no matter where you both are.

"Satoru stooop, we can't. Not here." You giggled a little as he ran his nose over your jugular. A smirk appeared on Satoru lips as he listened to your laugh.

He was compelled to hear it again and obviously since he was like the funniest person HE knew, it wouldn't be hard.

"But whyyy. You're too sweet. You taste like candy." He whined slightly pulling away to stare into your eyes, quite like staring into your soul. If it was anyone else, you probably would recoil, cringing.

Buuuut he was also kinda adorable. You thought.

You leaned forward pressing a sweet peck on his lips, Satoru dropping your leg, allowing you to correct your posture.

"I do not." You giggled yet again, pressing your hands against his chest, moving them up and down his torso.

"Do too. I can't wait to gobble you up." He pressed, your giggle pierced his ears again, causing his smile to brighten as he stared down at you, basically inhaling your beauty.

"You've got such a way with words." You sarcastically say as you give him a playful eye roll, trying to push him back slightly but to no avail, he stood strong.

"That's not the only thing, Baby." And god did you believe him.

You jump once you hear the ding of the elevator, realising you are so close to getting the life fucked out of you and that put a bounce in your step. You were nearly stepping on the backs of Satoru heels as the both of you wonder down the halls.

Your breathing started to pick up, feeling almost inpatient. You couldn't even blame it on the alcohol because realistically you only had two, you were definitely drunk on something else and you'd only experienced it briefly.

You watched as Satoru's long slender fingers, played with his keys; trying to find the right one.

And as soon as that door was opened, you couldn't even process how fast you were inside, immediately locking lips.

Satoru kicked the door shut with his foot, his hands never leaving you as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You let out a low moan as your tongues started to dance with each other.

The kiss was sloppy and ferocious. You didn't believe when people talked about sparks but in that moment, you started to believe. He left your lips tingling, nothing you've felt before. It sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your pussy aching, needing for this man.

You were nearly tripping over each other, bumping into things, lips never leaving each others as you both made your way through the apartment. Letting out a low whimper when your back hit the soft mattress, spreading your legs to allow Satoru to press himself against you.

"I'm fucking you. No more playing. I need to feel you around me." Satoru growled against your lips, before resuming sticking his tongue down your throat.

His hands left you, reaching down to work at his belt, he was quick and efficient, pushing his pants down his legs with one hand.

He broke from you, pushing up your dress past your hips and literally ripping off your panties, exposing your wet and dripping cunt. You'd worry about your panties later.

Satoru let out a low groan seeing you now bare beneath him, your pussy glistening for him. And only him.

You were his for tonight and he was going to rock you until you were cumming for him.

He didn't dare waste anymore time, aligning himself up at your entrance, his head bowed to watched himself push against your pussy, a moan leaving him when he felt how wet you really were, he could just slide in and you'd take him perfectly.

But he knew better, you'd need to adjust.

You were a moaning mess already, grabbing at him, bucking your hips against the ghosting tip of his cock, it was too dark to see have big he was but you soon found out as he pushed himself in.

"Fuck." He let out a staggering breath as he felt the beginning of your tight walls, you let out a sharp gasp as you take him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The pain was real. He was huge.

You felt the pop as he finally pushed past your boundaries, a synced moan coming from both parties. Satoru moved his hips slowly, his fingers digging into his expensive sheets; restraining himself.

You were mewing lowly as he pumped into you, grateful he was allowing you to adjust to his size.

The more he felt himself able to go further without any resistance, the more he sped up.

"You feel amazing." He huffed out, rocking his hips in a steady pace. Your eyes fluttered as moans flowed effortlessly from your mouth. His cock was rubbing against your walls in just the right way. Tickling that itch you never knew you truly needed.

But you were becoming even more impatient, you wanted him to use you. You knew he was holding back and you wanted him to show you just how much.

Your hand moved up into his hair, gripping at the roots "I want you all. Don't hold back. Please Satoru."

At just the moan of his name, sent him. Before you knew it, both of his hands gripped your hips aggressively, slamming into yours.

You cried out loudly as he repeatedly did it again and again. Fucking his cock into you, hitting right into your cervix. You gripped desperately onto his forearms as he continued to plow into you; bouncing at every thrust.

You squeezed Satoru better than he imagined, you would. He stared down at your form with hunger, watching you arch your back, your beautiful mouth letting out cries of pleasures from his cock. You were taking him so well. He wanted you to scream for him.

"God. You look so good taking my cock. Taking me so well." He purred, placing a hand on the pudge of your stomach, pressing down firmly. He wished he had taken off your dress so he could see your beautiful tits bouncing from every time he fucked his cock into you.

"Satoru! Fuck. Holy shit-" You cried out, throwing your head back against the mattress, arching your back even more.

"Keep saying my name baby. Just like that." He leaned down, resting on his forearm just above your head, not before using his other hand to push one of your legs up, allowing him more access to your addicting cunt.

"AAHH fuck! Satoru!" You screamed out, feeling your body start to shake from the continuous pounding. His cock deeper inside from the new position.

"Fuck yeah. Holy fuck. You're so beautifult." He groaned, your little noises were music to his ears, his fingers digging deeper into your supple skin and you knew it would definitely leave marks.

Your lips crashed against his, teeth clashing together. Satoru swallowing each cry and moan that would try to escape.

"You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum on my cock?" He moaned in your ear, followed by hallowed panting as he pounded into you. You couldn't rely on forming any words, they were just coming out as sobs and cries. You were putty underneath him, no one has EVER fucked you this good before. You were on cloud nine.

And just as you thought it couldn't get any better, you started to feel the familiar build up. You were close. You felt like you were going to explode from the pleasure as it flowed through your body, you couldn't even warn Satoru before you released around his cock, screaming out in pure bliss as you felt yourself gush over him.

Satoru quickly pulled out and watched as you released a great quantity of liquid. Your legs shaking from the overbearing orgasm that shook your core.

He let out a breathless chuckle, realising you. HE had just made you squirt, all over him.

Your hands trembled as you brought them to your mouth, trying to control your breathing.

"Oh god. I'm sorry." You were shocked that you could even squirt and this man had not only brought you to a full penetration orgasm but he made you squirt.

"Hah Sorry? No. That was fucking hot. So hot. fuck." Satoru's breathing became heavier, his pupils dilated as he watched your trembling form, without anymore words, he slammed back into you, pulling a louder cry from you. Having seen you squirt on his cock, brought him closer to his own climax.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier and more desperate as he chased his own high. You were completely dazed, stars in your vision. Being fucked harder into the mattress. An uncontrollable moaning mess.

You tugged at his hair, yanking his head back slightly "Cum in me. I want it."

He couldn't believe his ears, as if you could get anymore sexier.

"You want it. You want my hot load inside your juicy pussy?" Your hands travelled down his back, leaving long and deep scratches, marking him red.

"Satoru- please. Cum. Please. I want it. I want you." He growled from the stinging sensation and from your voice. He was so close. So close.

"Anything for you, baby." He angled his hips and thrusted harder, until he felt it. He shoved his face into the crook of your neck as he felt his own orgasm approaching, his cum shot straight into you, causing a guttural cry from your throat as you feel it coat your walls. Satoru pumped into you until he was dry, slowing to a stop. A complete panting mess above you.

You were trying hard to catch your own breath as he lowered himself onto you, carefully trying not to crush you.

Your hand brushed through his pure white strands, as you both laid there together, in pure bliss. Panting excessively.

Satoru sat up slightly to place a sweet kiss on your lips, you of course accepted happily. He hummed softly before resting his face on your tits.

"I've never squirted before." You panted out, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. You felt embarrassed, more so for the fact you had made a mess but you also felt bewildered. You didn't think you could and you didn't think that any man could pull an orgasm out of you, let alone two, It started you thinking. How many could he make you have?

Every boyfriend you've had, NEVER made you feel like how this man did here. They were all so more selfish for their own desire than satisfying you. Even getting to the point where you would just roll over and let them have their way, sucking the enjoyment out of sex completely. Making it feel like a chore, so you wouldn't have to constantly hear their whines and moans about 'why you didn't want to fuck?'

Tsk.

"Never?" You shook your head lazily, feeling an overwhelming sense of drowsiness.

You felt him vibrate from the low chuckle he let out, his head lifting up to look you in the eyes "Well. I can't wait to make you do it again and again.." his voice was mumbled against your skin as he peppered you with wet kisses.

"And again." You felt Satoru cradle your ass cheeks, his fingers massaging intensely. Hoisting you up, angling himself up with your overstimulated cunt.

And here you thought you could sleep.

Nah. You're in for a long night.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #female reader #reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojo #chubby #chubby reader

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toomuchracket · 2 months ago

Text

caffeine overload (barista matty x reader smut)

promptober. this is so soft!! i almost cried writing!! enjoy <3

you wake up to an aching body and an empty bed.

it's the latter that bugs you most, though - it's 10am on a sunday, matty's day off, you're in his bed, and he's nowhere to be found. wincing as you do, you reach towards his side of the bed, only to discover the sheets - while rumpled - are cold; he's been up for a while.

bastard. what's the point of having a boyfriend with nice arms if you can't wake up in them?

fuck it. you might as well get up and find him. plus, your throat is dry, the kind of soreness that can only be achieved by drinking copious amounts of vodka-based concoctions, the kind of soreness that can only be alleviated by drinking a pint of cold water in one go. with great effort, you pull yourself out of bed and matty's sweatshirt over your head, shuffling out of the bedroom at a snail's pace. when you reach the hallway, you speed up slightly as the smell of fresh coffee wafts its way to you from the kitchen, the promise of both caffeine and matty spurring you on.

stepping onto the tiled floor in bare feet makes you hiss, which in turn makes matty look up. he's at the breakfast bar, reading a book - one you gave to him in recommendation, actually - and he smiles softly as soon as he sees you. god, he's beautiful. “hi, baby,” his voice is even softer than his face. “y’alright?”

“no.”

“no?” he looks panicked, rushing to you and gently holding your face. “you're not feeling well?”

“no, i don't even have a headache,” you wrap your arms around his waist, smushing your face into him. “i'm not alright because you weren't in bed when i woke up,” tilting your head, you give him the sad eyes - slight overkill, maybe, but you secretly love playing into the girlfriend role like this. “wanted a cuddle.”

“oh, darling,” matty's face softens again, and he moves his arms around your shoulders to hug you properly. “m'sorry, sweet girl. i just figured you'd maybe want to sleep for a while, and i could go and make coffee for you waking up.”

you pull back slightly, brows raised in interest. “is there coffee for me?”

he kisses your nose. “coffee and a cookie in the oven.”

“you're a dream, healy.”

“i try. sit down, darling, i'll get you breakfast,” matty drops a kiss onto the top of your head as you oblige, perching yourself on a stool while he faffs about with the fancy coffee machine you think is both slightly pointless (his coffee shop is literally downstairs) and scary to use by yourself (why on earth are there so many buttons?). “so,” he slides you a big glass of water, which you gulp down eagerly. “how are you genuinely feeling this morning?”

“so, so tired,” as if to prove your point, you yawn. “but my head is fine, and i don't feel pukey. my limbs are aching, though. like, proper sore.”

“well, that's what happens when you dance for three straight hours, sweetheart.”

the smile in his voice is obvious. you glare at his (very nice-looking) back. “m'never going anywhere run by your friends ever again.”

“nah, ross said you and the girls were great fun. you're welcome back anytime, apparently.”

still, you grumble. “can't believe you didn't tell me it was his bar,” you sip your water. “or that he was so attractive. i mean, really, one friend group should not contain so many good-looking people. s'unfair.”

matty cackles. “i'm gonna tell the girls you said that.”

“no, they agreed. we had this discussion yesterday. they're all in love with ross, now.”

he winces. “i don't think any of them would be able to handle ross,” matty turns to face you. “even you might struggle, to be honest.”

your eyes widen. “oh, you mean, like…?”

“oh, yeah. he's a proper dom, that one,” matty winks. “not like either of us.”

interesting. “have the two of you ever-”

“fucked? nah.”

you roll your eyes. “i was gonna say shared someone, but alright.”

“haven't done that either,” the oven beeps, and matty carefully removes the delicious-smelling chocolate-chip treat, before smirking at you. “why? you interested?”

you shrug. “maybe. if everyone wants to. i don't mind.”

“i can ask him - careful with that, it's hot,” your boyfriend slides the cookie and a set of cutlery to you, which you excitedly thank him for before tucking in. “he thinks you're fit, so he might be up for it.”

“he does?”

“told me last night that he ‘understands why i've been spending all my time with you,’” matty smiles, pouring espresso and oat milk into a mug. “you know, when you phoned me at half 11 to come and pick you up because you missed me too much.”

“shut up,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “too many people were ordering espresso martinis. it made me miss you.”

he reaches across to caress your cheek. “oh, my sweet, clingy girl. you're so weird.”

“you literally make the cold brew that goes into them. it would be weird if i didn't think about you when someone got one,” you take the final bite of your cookie. “and don't you try to pretend you didn't absolutely love me calling you. could hear you smiling from all the way down the street.”

“yeah, i did love it. i love being your boyfriend, and getting to take care of you,” while you swoon, he places a latte in front of you, foam art designed in a heart shape. “speaking of, d'you want a shower? might help your post-dancing pains.”

“ooh, yeah,” you sip your coffee, sighing happily. “can i hop in now?”

“of course, darling,” matty smiles when you kiss his cheek; his brow furrows when you get up to leave the room, though. “you're taking the latte with you?”

“why wouldn't i?”

he shakes his head. “you really are weird, darling.”

“and you're into me regardless,” you wink, and he giggles. it's adorable. “i won't be long, babe.”

true to your word, you're out in fifteen minutes, body soothed by the combination of hot water and matty’s shower gel. once you're dry, clad in his jumper and boxers, you pad through to the living room and climb onto his lap on the sofa. “hi.”

“hi, baby,” matty kisses your head, reaching to mute the tv before wrapping his arms around you. “feeling better?”

“yeah. still a bit tired, but-”

“oh, i can help with that,” he lets go of you long enough to hand you a full, steaming mug of coffee from the little table beside you. “started making it when i heard the shower turn off.”

“you're so sweet, matthew,” you coo, taking a long drink of the coffee before kissing your boyfriend on the cheek. “making me coffee, putting the fire on, buying me cleanser and moisturiser to keep here - that was really thoughtful, by the way, angel. thank you.”

he giggles, hiding his face in your neck. “i just like making you happy.”

“you're really good at it,” once you've laid the coffee back on the table, your hands find their way onto matty's face. “and you're so pretty!”

“oh, shush,” he rolls his eyes, cheeks warming under your hands. “you're the pretty one, we both know this.”

“mmmm, no.”

“mmmm, yeah.”

“no, you're-”

“cookie, my darling, you're not winning this argument. trust me, babe,” matty leans back, eyes raking up and down your body in a not-particularly-PG-but-very-sexy manner. “especially not when you're wearing my clothes.”

“you like it when i do that?”

“fuck, yeah,” he grins, cheeky. “s'my favourite look of yours. well,” he corrects himself. “second favourite.”

“the first's when i'm naked, isn't it?”

“is it creepy if i say yes?”

“matty, you're my boyfriend,” you roll your eyes. “i want you to like it when i'm naked.”

he presses his forehead to yours. “i love it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” his lips meet your forehead, your nose, your lips - the kiss is quick, but as good as ever. “you're fucking gorgeous. like, sex thoughts aside… you just look so beautiful when you're not wearing anything. i mean, you're always beautiful, but,” he smiles against your lips. “i think you're really stunning when you're at your barest like that. dunno if it's a trust thing, or just to do with how deeply i feel for you anyway, but… yeah.”

jesus. you're not a believer in the concept of absolute perfection, but matty definitely comes pretty bloody close; you'd give him that accolade for the way he kisses you back alone. detaching your lips when you risk getting too lightheaded, you giggle softly into him, a sound he copies. “you're my favourite, you know,” you kiss him again, smiling against him when he moans into your mouth. “and if you wanted to see me naked right now… i'd be quite up for that.”

matty smiles. “thought you were tired, darling?”

“nuh-uh,” you shake your head. “the caffeine's done its job. maybe a little bit too well, actually,” another kiss. “i want you, matty.”

he groans, burrowing his head into your neck; you join in with the chorus when his lips meet the soft skin there. “how do you want it, cookie?”

“i want - oh, fuck,” you whimper, hand coming up to clutch your boyfriend's hair as he nips at your neck. “want it on the floor…”

“dirty girl.”

“... in front of the fire,” the words come out as a strangled groan, matty sucking marks onto your body sending heat flooding within it. “want you deep, and slow, and filling me up. yes,” you cut him off, noticing his mouth opening as if to talk. “i want you to cum inside me.”

“i thought you didn't like that?”

“no, i didn't like it with anyone else,” you bite your lip, well aware of what you're about to say. “but you… i think you should mark what's yours.”

“god,” matty's voice is shaky, more breath than sound. his forehead meets your shoulder, and you smile as you caress the back of his head while he inhales deeply. sweet boy.

the sweetness doesn't last long, though - he hooks his hands under your arse and lifts you, still biting at your neck as he carries you to the soft rug in front of the fire. you've been obsessed with matty's fireplace since the first time you saw it, fascinated by the crackling flames illuminating and warming up the room; they're very reminiscent of how matty lights you up, and manages to send heat coursing through your body. like now, for instance, as he kneels to carefully lay you down on the fabric and his thumbs find the waistband on your shorts on their way back round to the front of your body… yeah, you're turned on.

and he knows it, the little shit, grinning stupidly when you bite your lip. “alright, cookie?”

you pout. “matty…”

“yeah, darling?” he kisses your nose, and a fresh set of butterflies take off within you. “what d'you want?”

“please take my clothes off,” you roll your hips up into his, biting your lip when he groans softly. “and yours. wanna see you.”

matty coos, leaning back to pull his t-shirt over his head. the fabric is thrown onto the sofa, closely followed by your (well, his) sweatshirt, and he beams at the sight of your bare chest. “perfect girl.”

“pretty boy,” you rake your nails down matty's chest, just hard enough to make him moan, hooking them into the waistband of his sweatpants. “can i?”

“please, yeah.”

“mmmkay,” you slide the grey fabric down, beaming when matty moves to kick it off his legs and you see what's underneath - which is, to say, absolutely nothing. “matthew, you little slut.”

“says the woman begging me to get her naked,” he retorts, pulling your shorts off and pushing your legs back; his pupils dilate at the sight of your glistening core. “fuck, cookie, is this all for me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “all of it,” your voice is breathy with desperation, words turning to a wanton moan as you watch matty stroke himself while he looks at you. “take what's yours, please. put it in, baby, ple- oh, just like that.”

“oh my god,” matty slowly pushes into you, moving to rest on his elbows at either side of your head. his forehead rests against yours, chests pressed together and breathing slowly in tandem as he finally bottoms out; it's the most intimate the two of you have been with each other so far, and - in the best possible way, of course - you're feeling a little bit overwhelmed. matty being matty, lovely and attentive, he notices, shifting his weight onto one elbow so he can softly stroke your cheek. “you alright, my girl?”

you nod. “yeah, angel. just full.”

your heart, too.

“d'you need a minute like this, darling?”

“if that's okay,” you kiss his nose. “like having you close to me.”

matty beams, and it makes your heart feel funny. “so do i. we'll stay like this as long as you want.”

“thank you,” you smile, lightly scratching his scalp the way he likes. “can i have a kiss, please?”

he doesn't answer. instead, matty presses his lips to yours, tongue languid as it traces across your cupid's bow and licks into your mouth when you open it in a soft moan. it's just as passionate as ever, but slow, drawn-out, and just completely ruinous to you; your cunt tightens around him, desperate to be even closer to your boyfriend than you already are, probably as a result of his mouth kissing away any thoughts in your head that aren't him. your hips begin to roll, matty's follow suit, and - still kissing - soon enough, he's fucking you exactly how you wanted him to, slow and deep and so fucking good.

you're not even sure you can call it fucking, actually, the sex you two are having right now; neither of you have said the important word to each other, yet, but there's really no other way to describe this activity as anything other than lovemaking. not that you've ever done that, or ever actually been in love with anyone, but the word seems like an accurate term for right now, when you feel like you'd die if matty was any further away from you than he currently is, and you’re desperate to make him happy, to make him make those gorgeous little moans that fall from his lips whenever you clench around him or roll your hips just so, to make him kiss you so hard it leaves you both breathless.

he pulls away from your lips slightly after one such kiss, just enough that he can look at you properly; when he does, his face cracks into a gorgeous smile. “hi.”

“hi,” you smile back, caressing his cheekbone. “having fun?”

“s'an understatement,” matty laughs, groaning as he fucks into you again. “only one thing that could make this better for me, actually.”

“s'that?”

he ducks his head down, licking a long stripe up your neck to your lips. “you letting me make you cum.”

fuck. “yes, please.”

another kiss, a smile against your lips. “so good for me. cum whenever you're ready, yeah?”

you smirk. “you don't want me to beg?”

matty shakes his head. “not today, cookie. want you to take what you deserve.”

“okay,” you kiss him, moaning into his open mouth when a calloused thumb finds your clit, circling with practised precision. “fuck, baby, you're so good,” the two layers of stimulation feel amazing, proven by you audibly getting wetter as matty keeps thrusting, slow and deep and sexy. “so fucking good.”

“love feeling you like this,” your boyfriend groans, burrowing his head into your neck. “could stay like this forever. and i would, if you wanted me to,” he kisses your neck, gentle, before moving to look at you again. those pretty eyes of his are hazy, his cheeks are flushed, and he's never looked more beautiful. “i'd do anything for you, darling.”

the overwhelming intimacy of the morning reaches breaking point; so do you, imminent orgasm the only thing preventing you from giving in and saying the word that's been dancing on the tip of your tongue whenever you've so much as thought about matty lately. instead, you cling to him, whispering against his lips. “m'so close.”

matty whines, hips and hand keeping up their movements, despite the fact you can feel him shaking above you. “c'mon, cookie,” his words are punctuated with kisses, desperate liplocks that you can't quite decide are meant to fuel him or tip you over the edge. both, probably. “let go for me, my darling. give in, let me give you what you deserve, perfect girl.”

that's all you need.

“fuck, matty,” you press your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, whimpering into his sweaty skin as pleasure careens through your trembling body. it's the strongest orgasm you think you've ever had, every little subsequent aftershock devastating to you; when one of them coincides with matty's orgasm, it actually sets you off fully again, moaning in harmony with him as he pulses heat deep inside you. “oh my god.”

“jesus,” matty groans into your hair, fucking shallower and shallower into you as he stops cumming. once he's done, he practically falls onto you, resting his head on your heaving chest - there's silence for a minute, aside from heavy breathing and the crackling of the fire, and then he lifts his head up to peek at you. “how you feeling, cookie?”

you nod, trying to find the words. “like i just had the best sex i've ever had.”

your boyfriend laughs, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “i'm feeling the same.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he brushes a bit of hair from your face. “that was really special, baby. meant a lot to me.”

“me too,” you reach up to touch his face, mirroring his action with you. “never felt like this before, y'know. so safe, so cared for,” you smile bashfully. “or so beautiful, actually.”

“oh, darling,” matty kisses your forehead. “m'glad i can make you feel so good. all i wanna do, to be honest.”

“sweet boy,” you smile. “can we stay like this for a while?

he smiles back, and you have to bite your lip from blurting out how you actually feel about him. “of course.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #barista matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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