#like...damning with faint praise
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wild-at-mind · 4 months ago
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Sometimes just from someone's username you know they would reblog a post that's like omg Trump will do genocide and Harris will do genocide but with emojis and memes!!
And then you see that they did in fact reblog the post and you're like ohhh can we stop pretending this is any kind of leftism.
#like- part of leftism is actually talking about things#e.g. the fact is that governments have all these complicated alliances with other countries#that each administration inherits- and in global wars this affects how they act towards each country#and yeah its fucking shitty! that all our world leaders will participate in wars! personally im anti war!#but this whole bleakism both sides are the same on foreign policy so we shouldnt fuckin bother voting#its not activism or care for human rights its nihilism#you can tell its not care for human rights because so many people like this idolise countries who#also are doing war crimes and terrorism and human rights abuse#and they dont really have a justification or argument for their admiration of these countries other than#'well this country is no different to [x western country] and you think that is ok riiight?'#i mean...if by ok you mean 'the country exists and will continue to exist and i live there and also vote there'#like...damning with faint praise#anyway look i have to admit i don't understand the social media aspect of us elections#the meme-y stuff that comes directly from the campaign trail- dont get it thats not a thing in the uk#but one thing i am absolutely certain of is that both sides do it!#anyway also dont reblog weird 'genocide- yaaas queen!' memes about kamala harris when you're white/non-black it makes you look racist.#also to continue the train of thought i abandoned (sorry)- i personally believe countries need leaders and anarchy will never happen#and the 'revolution' will not happen in our lifetime- its not a real revolution they are talking about anyway its some sort of internet one#where nothing goes awry and it all works out for the goodies (us tumblr leftists)#so given that someone is going to lead the us as president and no amount of not voting will change that- i say grow up#ur genocide memes are boring- to be quite frank on a site so focused on the day to day struggles of marginalised people#who live in western countries- no matter what the government does abroad you STILL should vote for the day to day#yeah some people online say voting makes you impure and complicit in genocide but the secret is you have to ignore thrm#youre just a fucking random you cant tell the president what to do about international conflict- give yourself a break yeesh
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deadpanwalking · 6 months ago
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what's your opinion on wolf hall?
Come on, you know me better than to ask my option of shit that's not literary fiction. I read it when it came out, enjoyed myself somewhat, and then it passed through me like cheap beer.
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mariocki · 7 months ago
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The Headless Eyes (1971)
"You've tried to alienate yourself but, Mal, I'm here, you -"
"Why? For two years I have been trying to live alone and to be able to accept this. Why are you here?"
"Because you haven't convinced me."
"Of what?"
"That you're incurable."
#the headless eyes#headless eyes#eye trauma#eye horror#horror imagery#blood tw#video nasty#1971#american cinema#kent bateman#bo brundin#ramon gordon#kelly swartz#ann wells#larry hunter#mary lamay#linda southern#known with the definite article and without as well as at one point rereleasing as#bloodthirsty butcher#a faintly dreadful exercise in exploitation horror. the passion project of one Kent Bateman‚ father of Jason‚ and latterly a respected#producer; he probably doesn't shout too loud about his directorial debut. shoddily made and written and acted‚ this is saved from true#cinematic oblivion by the spirited central performance of Brundin as the crazed artist with a taste for ocular thievery: he's ott and kind#of ridiculous but like William Metzo in spiritually similar grade z video nasty Mardis Gras Massacre‚ his bizarre commitment to the bit and#uniquely strange performance opposite a supporting cast that's largely subpar makes him the most interesting thing onscreen at any point#a few visual flourishes‚ an unexpectedly curtailed denouement and a brief attempt at drawing out the disconnect between our#protagonist's sensitive‚ artistic nature and his lust for scooping out eyes all add up to a film not quite as dogshit as it might have been#in a worst case scenario; but this is no best case scenario either‚ and frankly this is something of a tough time to get through‚ not#because of any onscreen grue but simply because it's something of a slog to sit through. belongs among the bottom dwellers of the dpp list#im sorry to say (but better than Toxic Zombies at least) (damned with faint praise)
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tweedfrog · 8 months ago
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Someone on tiktok is vigorously defending Barry Keoghan from deadbeat dad allegations by telling everyone he's an alcoholic like girl pls never become anyone's lawyer
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amandaoftherosemire · 1 year ago
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As a woman, I have always resented the gendering of scent. I do not want to smell of vanilla or flowers, of baked goods and meadows. I want what the men get. I want to smell of forests and mountain tops and abstract concepts like FREEDOM. To my delight, my spouse has no interest in these things, but their parents will not accept this. They got a big ass bar of soap for the holidays that smells of NAVAL DIPLOMACY. Someone has to use it, and I'm in. I'm expecting sea air and cannon fire. I will RULE smelling like this!
Update: I think it's bergamot, and maybe some citrus. Definitely no gunpowder or scurvy. Kinda bullshit if you ask me.
I don't know. It's fine. It smells like soap. Mens' marketing is so weird.
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mitochondriaandbunnies · 6 months ago
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A few episodes in I would describe Viper as "halfway decent," "definitely better written than The Sentinel," and "good god I have never heard worse music in a television show in my entire life"
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naamahdarling · 2 years ago
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"I love you and accept the way you are... But I'd rather you weren't."
I feel like we always see parents who are 100% super supportive allies, or parents who are horrible and cruel.  At least in media or in the most popular stories.  But I feel like that ignores just how many people have parents where you just have no idea?  And even if you think they’ll accept you on a surface level, you don’t know if they have a breaking point.  Especially if you need to go on hrt, or request they change the way they think about and refer to you.  Sure they’re liberal and all, or centrists, or “tolerant”, but how far does that stretch?
I think most closeted LGBT+ kids live like this, wading around in the grey area.  I’d like it of more of us knew that was normal, I’d like if we talked about it more.
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hoseoksluna · 1 month ago
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LITTLE JUICE | JJK
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut, pwp
rating: 18+
summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.
luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.
luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.
𓂃 ౨ৎ
taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 
@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 
@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo
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The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 
The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 
No BS by Chris Brown.
The song that started it all.
Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.
You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 
TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 
You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 
Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 
Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 
He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 
You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 
You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 
Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 
You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 
“You scared the shit out of me.” 
Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 
Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 
Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.
It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 
You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 
Your hips. 
A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 
He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 
You’re in trouble. 
Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 
Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 
“Did you get wet for me?” 
A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 
For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 
Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 
But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 
You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”
His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 
He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 
“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 
The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 
Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 
A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 
You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 
And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 
You place your hands on top of his. 
A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 
It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 
Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 
You hump him. 
“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 
This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 
But the moment is ruined all too soon. 
A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 
You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 
Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 
A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 
“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 
You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 
Smart man. 
“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 
He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 
“They’re gone.” 
And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 
A hungry look is wrung into his features. 
The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 
He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 
Five torturous days. 
“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 
You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 
The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 
He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 
You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 
“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 
Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 
You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 
Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 
“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 
You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 
He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 
“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”
And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 
You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 
And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 
“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 
Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 
You leak for him, nonetheless. 
Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 
“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 
Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 
But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 
Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 
The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 
Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 
Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 
Not even as you come down from your high. 
Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 
Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 
“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 
Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 
“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 
You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 
Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 
“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 
In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 
There it is. 
“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 
You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 
Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 
“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 
His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 
And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 
You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 
You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 
You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 
“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 
You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 
“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 
Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 
He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 
Your life is over.
“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 
He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 
“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 
And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 
The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 
And he doesn’t pull away. 
He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 
You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 
Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 
The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.
“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 
Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 
His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.
“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 
The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 
“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 
You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 
“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 
An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 
He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 
At home, you fuck him hard for it. 
With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 
He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 
And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 
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enhard · 9 days ago
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚ ✩
sim jaeyun — “use me” (MDNI)
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(wrote this just thinking how jake has pretty veiny hands to match his big veiny cock ♡︎)
pairing: bf!s.jy x fem!reader
: you’re pissed at your boyfriend for ignoring you but luckily he knows the best way to help you calm down… using his fingers of course ! but that’s not all
cw: smut, fingering, hand kink, size kink, riding, cockwarming, creampie, squirting, lots of stretching out, pet names, praising, fucking while on call with others, jake is just packing ughh </33
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You love your boyfriend, obviously, but you started hating how he spent more time playing with his friends rather than hanging out with you.
Every time he had free time you’d ask him to sleep over at his and he accepted whenever you would ask. However… he would spend his time clicking away at his computer screen, his pretty fingers moving along the keyboard keys.
You’d sit with your arms resting on your knees, curdled up on his bed watching him.
“Hurry through here so we can corner these guys.. come on, faster, faster!” he says, speaking to Heeseung, Jungwon and Sunghoon through his headset. He’s been playing with them for hours now, and you just spend your time listening to him. The blue light from the screen emits onto his glasses, spreading on his whole face.
You scrolled your phone for a bit, but how much more could you scroll really? You desperately needed his attention, you missed his sweet words and his touch.
Without wanting to disturb him, you walk behind his gaming chair, wrapping your arms around his abdomen. He had to watch how he reacted cause the others could hear his every movement. “Oh..hey my love, what’s up?” he says, still focused on the screen. Your mood changes again, seeing how uninterested he is, not even bothering to look at you. You quickly take your hands off him and back off, that move making him look back at you for a split second.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, shooting another enemy.
“Forget it, i’m going home.” you say, the want to stay getting lesser and lesser.
“Wait.. what? what do you mean..?” he says, immediately grabbing his headset to take it off his head. He leaves the keyboard in the middle of the online game, faint sounds of the guys’ screams coming from the headphones.
“I wanna go home.” you look down.
“I’m sorry my love… I was totally ignoring you. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave the game right now.” he gently grabs your hands, looking up at you like a guilty puppy.
You stop him. “I’m just mad at you. How can you invite me over then just.. ignore me like that??” you snap.
He looks down again. “I’m acting so stupid. I’m sorry.. is there any way I can make it up to you?”
As he’s massaging your fingers with his, you look down, noticing the way his joints move. The amount of small veins he has in his hand and how easily you can trace them with your touch. You stare at his slender fingers, his perfect trimmed nails… just getting an idea.
“Jake..” you whisper, pulling him into a soft kiss. As you lean in, he grabs onto one side of your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You almost sit on his lap, before he stands up to make you walk back to his bed. You both make out for a bit, barely getting enough of each other’s lips.
He lays you on his bed, getting on top of you to continue kissing you. It’s just like he knows what you want to forgive him. “Let me make you happy… what do you think?” he smiles softly. You just nod, looking up at him with desperate but determined eyes.
His fingers slyly cross your neck, down your collarbone and down your shirt. He uses one hand to massage your whole chest through your large shirt. He slowly touches you all over, before stopping at your hips, where the shirt ends. he moves his fingers up your shirt, on your abdomen, finally sliding it off you from above your head. Your breasts now fully in his view, he smiles upon looking at them.
“You’re so damn perfect. I love you so much.” he says. his fingers cage your tits with a squeeze, trying to make the best of it with how much time he has until his members realise he’s gone.
“I love you too baby.” you say back shyly, biting your lip after watching his veiny hands touch you all over. His fingers are genuinely perfect, the way his hands are so soft on your plush skin, pretty pink knuckles and hands just a little cold to make you shiver.
He finally moves down to your pants, sliding them off in one move, making you spread your legs a bit so he can take them off. You’re just left in your underwear now, already soaked. You’re waiting for his slender fingers to welcome your pussy with a touch, but he has other plans. Instead, he picks you up in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist. Your wet underwear leaves an embarrassing stain on his plain white shirt but he doesn’t mind.
He buries his head into your neck while he walks back to the desk. “You’re so wet for me, love.” He says satisfied. “Now you better stay quiet, the mic is on you and… you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” you look at him a bit scared of the situation, but you shake your head. “Good girl, stay quiet for me then.” he reassures.
Jake sits back down on the chair, making you sit on his lap, facing him. He places the mic of the headset right close to you telling the guys that he’s finally back. He puts the headset on one of your ears, letting you hear him aswell with the other. Now his friends are just talking about random things while you hear them with one ear, and your boyfriend’s voice in the other. You stay completely quiet but he makes a move, leaning in to your face to tell his members that he’s going to be away from his keyboard for a bit again.
After he says that, he leans back into his chair and immediately rips your underwear off. He makes a big hole in them not even bothering to take them off. Jake shyly touches your sensitive clit with the bud of his thumb, tracing small circles around it. He looks at what he’s doing the entire time, admiring how wet you could’ve gotten for him in this time.
He pulls his fingers away to shove them in your mouth, making you lick and suck on his fingers for a minute or so. The fingers get coated in your saliva, and he pulls them out to continue touching your clit. You succeed staying quiet, grabbing his shoulders with both your hands. He picks up his pace, beginning to squeeze the sensible skin, pinching it and dragging it with his fingers. “So good.” He whispers. You close your mouth shut, trying your hardest not to make a sound, the guys’ voices echoing through your head.
After he’s done abusing your clit, he moves down to your folds, touching all over them with his wet fingers. He stops at your desperate hole, slowly pushing one finger inside. You close your eyes, your lips parting at the sudden feeling. Your body jerks up automatically as you let out a heavy breath.
As your eyelids connect, they crush two sweet tears in between them.
Jake reaches for the mic, holding it in his palm so the sound muffles. “I barely shoved my finger inside, princess. Stay still.” He says, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. Your juices run down his knuckles as you sit there on his lap shamefully. You grab onto his shoulder blades, trying your best to stay quiet.
He takes his hand away from the mic, placing it on your thigh instead. He sneaks another finger in, making you leave out a small sound. He looks up at you with his glistening puppy eyes, smiling ever so slightly with the corners of his mouth. He picks up his pace significantly, the feeling of his fingers so deep inside your core making you want to scream right there. If there’s one thing you love about your boyfriend’s physical appearance it HAS to be his hands.
They’re so soft, perfect for holding or.. you know, feeling.
He takes really good care of his hands, specially for you. He makes sure he stays on the top of his hygiene mostly for moments like these. You slowly lean in to give him a quiet kiss, muffling a moan that was forming in the back of your throat. The buds of his fingers rub against the best spot as he curls them inside, making you leave out a louder sound. Luckily his members were preoccupied with the game and didn’t really pay attention to what they heard.
Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly, speeding up even more. You start shaking your head, barely being able to contain yourself anymore. Your poor underwear is stuck to your skin, almost fully wet against it. “J…Jake.. I can’t please.. i… please…” you plead in a faint whisper.
“What’s that, love? tell me clearly.” he says, clearly knowing what you’re about to say but he still loves teasing you for it.
“Gonna cum…. oh m… fucking days. Please. Let me.. cum..” you whisper so slightly again, the sound barely hitting his ears.
“Keep quiet though, i’m letting you finish don’t worry.” he keeps going, massaging your thigh with his other hand. You immediately feel the knot in your stomach unleash with a large gush that spreads down his fingers and onto his sweatpants. You cover your mouth with your hand really tightening your palm on your face.
He smiles in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out to shove them inside his mouth. He licks his fingers to be able to taste you on his tongue, and he finally grabs onto your ass. He gives it a little playful slap before grinding you on him. You manage to calm your high down just to focus on him. You look down at his bulge forming in his now wet stained pants.
Jake has always been hard to take, in other words, he’s just packing. It never demotivated you to take him whole, no matter how much he stretched you out. Even his half-hard dick is hard to grab with one hand. That’s why when you slide his sweatpants off, you smile at him before barely wrapping one hand around his cock. You lazily stroke him to get him rock hard, your wet pussy just patiently waiting right next to it.
“Are you gonna be able to take it?” he looks at you understanding, knowing how before you would end up so stretched out after. You nod your head, sure of your actions this time.
“I can.” you reply. Once he’s fully hard, you trace a finger on the veins on his dick. Each and every one. You lick your lips before letting out a string of saliva fall down his cock, lubricating it a bit before positioning his tip on your hole. You take a deep breath as you sit on him slowly. He stretches you out more and more, and he insists on slowing everything down for you but you were so desperate to have him inside you that you just didn’t care anymore.
He keeps telling you to stop for yourself, to pull out if it’s too much. Instead you shush him, leaning your head back as you let yourself down on him. When you finally take him whole, your body shakes slightly at the feeling. You feel so full right now, so stretched. But there’s no way you’re pulling away.
His members start wondering where he is, and how they keep hearing breathing as he’s not in the game and he’s been missing for so long already. You panic a little upon hearing them ask about Jake but instead you just close your eyes, feeling his tip in your deepest spot.
“Oh fucks… sake. You’re so.. damn huge.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “Let me see you move on it.” he grabs onto your waist gently.
You suck on your bottom lip as you sit back up, then back down on him. You start off with small bounces and somehow it never gets easier, no matter how many times you’ve both done this before. You do go slow for your own good, and he lets you go at your own pace.
He admires your pretty face contorting in all ways to his dick, but that just might be his favourite part. He loves how you react. You try your best picking up your pace, figuring he might’ve gotten bored already.
But it was the exact opposite, he didn’t mind, he wanted you to feel comfortable. You grind yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. sweetheart..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.
You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed bouncing on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.
He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out a moan yet.
He rests his head on the chair enjoying your every move on him. You go faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every bounce.
At this point his friends might’ve caught on, but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him and that’s it. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— again… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle.
You don’t get to say anything else because you instantly finish again, your thighs shaking on top of him. You moan ever louder than before and your squirt runs down his legs now. He bites his lower lip, making you keep going with his palms on your ass. Your tired body keeps bouncing on him, and after a few more bounces, he cums all deep inside you. His dick twitches in sync with his moans after pulling out. His cum slowly pours out of you and onto the chair. You both sit like that for a few minutes to regain your thoughts, but instead he just grabs your ass again, shoving you back onto his cock.
A bit of cum shoves back into you too, a white ring forming around his base. You wrap your arms around his neck, as well as your head buried deep into it. You give his hot skin multiple kisses with heavy breaths. You both end up sweaty, breathing your lungs out. He keeps his dick inside you, without moving you or anything. He moves his chair back to his desk, getting that headset off you. Before placing it on his head, he gives your exposed ear a kiss. “Such a good girl, you took me so well.” he says before putting his headset back on and fixing his mic to his mouth.
“Hey guys, sorry I was gone for so long. Just wanted to make my girl happy.”
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kateschi · 1 month ago
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back in action
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synopsis: being the wife of bakugou katsuki comes with multiple benefits, one of which is a front-row seat to his scrumptious back.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i know at least 2/3 of you have seen that figurine
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you swear there’s no better sight in this world than katsuki bakugou’s back.
not the view from your honeymoon suite in santorini, not the sparkling ocean from your vacation in okinawa—hell, not even the perfect strawberry shortcake you baked last weekend.
no, none of that compares to the sheer beauty that is your husband’s ridiculously broad, wonderfully sculpted, unfairly muscular back.
the way his muscles shift under his skin when he moves? art.
the ripple of strength as he stretches? divine.
the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders after an intense workout? a masterpiece.
and, as if the gods of attractiveness hadn’t blessed him enough, the scars that mark his skin only add to his allure.
each one tells a story of battles fought and won, of heroism that the world praises but he humbly shrugs off. to you, those scars aren’t just symbols of strength—they’re proof of his resilience, his dedication, his heart.
so, yes. you are absolutely obsessed with your husband’s back, and no, you don’t care how shameless that makes you.
“katsuki,” you call from the couch, chin propped up on your hands as you shamelessly watch him rummage through the fridge.
he’s in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, the waistband hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt? nowhere to be found.
a completely intentional choice on his part, because he knows exactly how weak you are for him like this. “did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the best back in the entire universe?”
he pauses, a carton of orange juice in one hand and an eyebrow raised in your direction. “you tell me that every damn day.”
“well, I mean it every damn day.”
he rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re such a weirdo.”
“damn right,” you shoot back, grinning when he snorts. “come here. let me look at it properly.”
“what, my back?” his expression is one part exasperation, two parts amusement as he shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “the hell do you need to ‘look’ at it for?”
“because it’s a work of art, obviously,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “and I haven’t had my daily dose of admiring you yet.”
he groans, dragging a hand down his face like you’re the most exhausting person on the planet, but he still walks over to you without another word. you can tell he’s secretly enjoying this, though.
“alright, idiot. knock yourself out.” he turns around, presenting you with the full, glorious view of his back.
your eyes immediately light up. “oh my god, it’s perfect.”
“it’s a back,” he deadpans.
“no, no, no. it’s the back,” you insist, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers along the curve of his shoulder blades.
he tenses slightly under your touch—his body always reacts before his mind can catch up—but quickly relaxes as you continue your impromptu “admiration session.”
“you’ve got no idea how unfair this is,” you mumble, running your hands down the defined lines of his lats. “how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like this?”
“you’re ridiculous.” he’s shaking his head, but you can hear the way his voice softens, the way the edges of his usual gruffness smooth out when he talks to you like this.
it’s a few days later, and you're lounging on the couch, flicking through your phone when you hear him coming from the hallway, the sound of his footsteps heavy and deliberate.
katuski’s been in the gym for a couple of hours, and you can already hear the deep exhale he lets out as he moves closer, his breath still heavy from the workout.
"guess who's back," you say, looking up just in time to see him walking into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist, his body glistening with sweat from his workout.
he pauses for a moment when he sees your face—wide-eyed and full of admiration, already zeroing in on that perfect, chiseled back. his muscles tense as he moves, and you feel your heart skip a beat.
"really?" he says, voice dripping with disbelief. "you still on about this?"
“can’t help it,” you say, setting your phone aside and leaning back against the cushions, fully prepared to watch him, unashamed. "I’m just amazed that someone like you exists in the world."
katuski rolls his eyes, but there's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his indifference. "yeah, well, quit starin'."
"I can’t help it," you reply, your voice a playful purr as you look him up and down. "I mean, who else looks this good after a workout?"
he tilts his head to the side, his signature scowl starting to form, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“quit actin’ like I’m some kinda showpiece, alright?” he grumbles, though you can hear the lighthearted edge to his voice.
you laugh, clearly enjoying yourself too much. "sorry, can’t help it.”
later that week, you and katuski are out on patrol, both suited up in your respective hero uniforms.
it's business as usual—rescuing civilians, stopping some petty criminals, and making sure the city is safe.
the sun’s setting, painting the skyline in beautiful oranges and purples, but you're still laser-focused on one thing: his back.
it's a total accident—really, it is—but when you're standing next to him after you’ve just subdued a villain, you can't help but sneak a glance at the broad expanse of his back.
you feel that familiar pull to reach out, to trace the powerful lines of his shoulder blades again.
“don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and gruff as he catches the glint of mischief in your eyes.
you smile innocently, taking a step closer. "what? I was just going to—"
"not here. we’re in the damn public," katuski growls, his sharp gaze snapping to yours as his fingers tighten around his gauntlet. "you really think I’m gonna let you paw at me in front of everyone?"
you laugh, unbothered by his obvious annoyance. "I’m not pawing at you, I’m admiring you. there's a difference, katsuki."
his jaw tightens as he glares at you, his usual frown deepening. "that’s the same damn thing."
you can’t help but grin, even though he’s clearly not having it.
but, deep down, you know that katuski secretly loves it. sure, he’s tough and grumpy in front of the public, but you both know how soft he gets when you're alone, how he indulges you without hesitation.
so, you take one last daring step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush along the fabric of his uniform.
he’s about to bark at you to stop, but you just flash him a quick, mischievous grin, and that’s all it takes for him to roll his eyes, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable."
and katsuki was right in his reprimand cause you were breaking the headlines the very next day.
for all the wrong reasons.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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runespoor7 · 7 months ago
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@monstersqueen's extremely correct tags
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He's fine actually. Everyone else is doing so much worse for the people around them and for themselves.
The jianghu can stop trying to murder his family whenever it wants.
Not to say he wouldn't still have issues, but those are all WWX-shaped and the only way to get rid of those would be time-travel and/or amnesia. Getting him with WWX would certainly make him feel things a lot but there's no fixing that topic.
as a jc stan it's now time for my shot at the obligatory shipping poll
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mssalo · 2 months ago
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after hours
Joel Miller has been yours for a month now, and while things between you are steady, Jackson’s demands have kept you too busy for his liking. Missing you fiercely, Joel decides to pick you up after a late night, only for his mood to sour when Paul monopolizes your time. What starts as a simple check-in turns into something much more when Joel finally gets you alone or well... the other way around.
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Sub!Joel, Dom!fem!reader, explicit sexual content, oral (m! and f! receiving), throat fucking, Joel nearly getting rimmed (not quite yet, though - we getting there), Joel kissing your feet for a sec, jealousy (hello, Paul), office sex kinda, praise kink, Joel being a desperate, needy mess, - and soft emotional moments because I'm nice
This can be read as a standalone but officially its part two of ma'am.
7k. Enjoy!
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
The sun had long since set, casting Jackson in a blanket of cool twilight. Joel sat at the small kitchen table in his house, staring down at the unlit candle sitting in front of him.
He turned it slowly between his rough fingers, the faint scent of something warm and sweet drifting up to him- something that reminded him of you.
He’d found it earlier on patrol, tucked away in an abandoned cabin, and the moment the smell hit him, you’d been all he could think about.
The softness of it, the quiet comfort - it was you to him. He wasn’t sure why he picked it up, not at first.
Gifts weren’t exactly something he knew how to give anymore, and hell, he didn’t even know if it was too early for something like this. A month together wasn’t long, but for Joel, it felt like something impossible.
You had slipped into his life like sunlight, warm and steady, breaking through cracks he didn’t know were there. In just a month, you’d pulled him out of a place he thought he’d never leave, and it scared him sometimes - how much he cared. How much he wanted to hold onto you.
But lately, Jackson had taken up so much of your time. You still saw each other - quiet dinners, soft conversations, and kisses stolen in the fading light of day but that’s all there had been.
Between long shifts, late nights, and endless meetings, you’d been stretched thin, and Joel could see it. He didn’t resent you for it - how could he? You were the heart of this place, keeping everything and everyone steady. It was just…
He missed you.
And tonight, when the clock struck well past 11, and you still hadn’t come home, something in him stirred. Joel wasn’t the type to chase someone down, but tonight, he couldn’t just sit in the quiet house anymore.
With a deep sigh, he grabbed his jacket, stuffing the candle carefully into his pocket. The cold air bit at his skin as he stepped out onto the gravel path, boots crunching softly as he made his way toward the main building where he knew you’d still be.
As he climbed the stairs and spotted the warm light glowing from beneath your office door, he felt some of the tension ease in his chest.
You were safe. Good. But then he heard it—soft voices, yours and another man’s - Paul.
Joel paused just outside, his jaw clenching. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but something about it—about how Paul’s voice carried that too-familiar tone, how your own voice stayed calm and professional - made his teeth grind.
Paul. Joel knew exactly who he was, young, good-looking, dependable. Always where you were, always taking up your time. Joel resented him for it. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was damn sure Paul wanted you - how could he not? Hell, Joel figured everyone did.
You were strong, beautiful, impossible to ignore.
And Joel? He still didn’t quite know how he’d gotten lucky enough to have you, and it ate at him, hearing Paul’s voice when he wanted to see and talk to you so badly himself.
His brow furrowed, and he stopped just outside the slightly ajar door.
“- appreciate the update, Paul,” you were saying, your voice calm and professional. “We’ll make adjustments to the roster tomorrow morning.”
“Of course,” Paul replied, his tone polite but with a hint of familiarity that set Joel’s teeth on edge.
Joel peeked through the crack in the door and felt his chest tighten.
You were leaning partially against your desk, your posture relaxed but commanding, your sleeves pushed up to your elbows as you gestured toward a stack of papers in front of you.
The soft lamplight illuminated your face, highlighting the curve of your jaw, the way your blouse clung just right.
You looked… god, you looked so fucking good.
Too good.
Joel’s jaw worked as he stepped into the doorway, his hand gripping the frame. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, his presence heavy and awkward.
You glanced up at him, your brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “Joel?”
He shifted on his feet, his gaze flicking between you and Paul, unsure of what to say. His fists clenched at his sides, and he suddenly felt out of place, like he was intruding.
Paul turned to look at him as well, his expression polite but curious. “Evening, Joel,” he said with a nod.
Joel gave a tight nod in return, his lips pressing into a thin line as he struggled to think of something to say. But his gaze kept drifting back to you - your relaxed posture, the slight smirk tugging at your lips as you studied him.
You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you read the situation.
“I think we can wrap up for tonight, Paul,” you said smoothly, your voice taking on a sharper edge. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow.”
Paul blinked, glancing between the two of you before nodding. “Sure. Have a good night.”
You waited until Paul had gathered his things and stepped out of the office before turning your full attention to Joel. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the desk, one brow arched as you studied him.
“Well?” you said, your tone light but teasing. “What’s on your mind, Miller?”
Joel shuffled his feet, his eyes darting to the floor. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “Just… you were workin’ late. Wanted to check on you.”
Your lips curved into a slow smile, and you pushed off the desk, stepping toward him. “And here I thought you were giving Paul the stink eye,” you teased, stopping just in front of him.
Joel’s ears burned, and his hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “Wasn’t givin’ him anythin’,” he mumbled, his gaze stubbornly avoiding yours.
“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head as you watched him squirm. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Joel’s voice was quiet, thick with a mix of concern and something deeper. “You shouldn’t work so late,” he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours for just a moment before darting away again. “It ain’t good for you.”
You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into a soft smile. “Baby, I’m alright,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
But Joel’s jaw tightened, and his shoulders remained stiff. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a clear sign he was holding something back.
You stepped closer, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his scruffy cheeks. “Hey,” you murmured, leaning in until your forehead almost touched his. “I mean it. I’m okay. You can breathe, you know.”
He exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into your touch. “Just… can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice rough and low. “You do too much. Somebody’s gotta make sure you take care of yourself.”
Your smile softened, and you pressed a brief, chaste kiss to his forehead. “You’re sweet,” you said, your tone teasing but warm. “But I’ve got this, Joel. I promise.”
With that, you turned back to the desk, leaning slightly as you reached for a stack of papers you’d been organizing before Joel arrived.
Your blouse shifted as you moved, the fabric pulling taut across your back and revealing a hint of the smooth skin at your waist. You pushed up your sleeves absentmindedly, as you flipped through the papers with a focused efficiency that had Joel rooted in place.
Joel tried to focus on your words, on the way you calmly explained whatever you’d been discussing with Paul before he barged in, but his mind betrayed him.
His eyes trailed over the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the way your pants hugged your hips. His pulse quickened, heat creeping up his neck as he imagined you sitting back on that desk, your legs spread as you guided his head between them.
Fuck.
Joel clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides as he tried to shove the thought away, but it was no use.
The image was too vivid—the taste of you, the sound of your breathy moans, the way you’d hold his hair as he worshipped you. He could practically feel the pressure of your thighs around his head, your voice low and commanding as you told him to keep going, good boy.
“Joel?”
Your voice jolted him from his spiraling thoughts, and his head snapped up. You were looking over your shoulder, one eyebrow raised, your lips tugged into a curious smirk. “You okay over there?”
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Just… thinkin’.”
“Uh-huh,” you replied, turning fully to face him now.
You leaned back against the desk, crossing your arms over your chest, and Joel’s eyes—completely against his will—dropped for a fraction of a second before snapping back up. Your smirk deepened, and Joel’s ears burned.
“You sure about that?” you teased, tilting your head. “Because it seems like your thoughts might be wandering.”
“I—” Joel started, but the words caught in his throat.
He looked away, his hands twitching at his sides as he fought to regain control. But the way you leaned against the desk, your confidence radiating in every movement, was doing things to him he couldn’t stop.
You watched him for a moment, your eyes narrowing slightly, your smirk softening into something more thoughtful.
Then, you straightened, uncrossing your arms and stepping closer. “Joel,” you said softly, your voice dropping just enough to make his heart skip. “What’s really on your mind?”
His breath hitched as you closed the distance between you, your fingers brushing lightly over his forearm.
He wanted to answer, but the words tangled in his throat, his mind still clouded with the image of you, the way you’d look under him—no, above him.
You tilted your head, studying him like you could see right through him, and your lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I see,” you murmured, your voice dripping with amusement.
Joel’s mouth opened, then closed again. He shook his head quickly, his ears burning, but you didn’t let him squirm away this time.
You stepped even closer, your fingers trailing up to rest lightly against his chest. “Come on, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft but teasing. “You can tell me.”
Joel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darting to yours, then away again. “It’s… I just—” He stopped, his hands clenching at his sides as he let out a frustrated sigh. “You make it impossible to think, y’know that?”
Your smile widened, your head tilting as you regarded him.
“Oh?” you said, your tone light but edged with something darker, something that made Joel’s stomach flip. “And what exactly are you thinking about?”
Joel hesitated, his gaze flicking to the desk behind you for just a second before he looked away again, his jaw tightening. But it was enough. Your eyes sparkled with realization, and you leaned in, your voice dropping to a near whisper.
“Thinking about me on that desk, baby?” you murmured, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Thinking about how good it’d feel to put that mouth of yours to work?”
Joel’s breath hitched, his entire body going taut as he stared at you, his pupils blown wide. “I—fuck,” he rasped, his voice breaking
Your smirk deepened, and you reached up to brush your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing his scalp. “Go on, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like velvet. “Say it.”
Joel’s breath hitched, his entire body going taut as he stared at you, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he was caught mid-thought.
“I—fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking under the weight of whatever was bubbling inside him.
You smirked, tilting your head, and let your fingers glide into his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp.
Joel swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.
“All day, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you—‘bout gettin’ my mouth on you. Feelin’ your thighs against my face, your taste on my tongue. Can’t stop.” His voice dropped into a low growl, his breath uneven.
“Can’t even fuckin’ think straight when you’re standin’ there lookin’ like that.”
You raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Didn’t I take care of you this morning, sweet one?”
His jaw flexed, and he groaned softly, his eyes dropping to your lips, then trailing over your body with an intensity that made your stomach clench.
“It wasn’t enough,” he muttered, voice desperate. “It’s never enough. You ruin me, darlin’. I just… I need you.”
You leaned back against the desk, arms crossed casually over your chest, and his eyes followed the movement, locking onto the subtle shift of your body.
“Take my pants off, Joel,” you said, your voice calm but firm, like it was the simplest request in the world.
Joel’s breath hitched again, his fingers already moving before he could fully process your words.
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he stepped closer. His hands were unsteady, reverent, as they found the waistband of your pants, hesitating for just a moment before undoing the button and sliding the zipper down.
The air between you crackled as he knelt in front of you, his hands gently tugging your pants down over your hips.
His lips parted, and you heard the faintest gasp as your panties came into view, a darkened spot already visible where your arousal soaked through.
“Goddamn,” Joel muttered, his voice low and wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t even know what you do to me.”
You smirked, leaning forward slightly, one hand brushing through his hair. “I know exactly what I do to you, baby,” you murmured. “That’s why you’re on your knees for me, isn’t it?”
Joel tugged the rest of your pants free, his movements quick and deliberate, pausing only to slide your shoes off and set them aside.
The moment your legs were bare, he hesitated, his eyes darting down to your feet before he leaned in suddenly, pressing his lips to the top of one foot.
The soft, warm press of his mouth sent a shiver through you, and you let out a startled laugh, tilting your head as you looked down at him. “Joel,” you said, your voice low with curiosity and amusement. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his lips traveled over the arch of your foot, slow and reverent, and when he finally spoke, his voice was thick and trembling.
“Can’t help it,” he murmured. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. Every part of you—” His tongue flicked out briefly, dragging along the delicate curve of your ankle. “—drives me fuckin’ crazy.”
Your breath caught as his hands slid up to cradle your calves, his lips brushing against the arch of your other foot.
“Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft but edged with heat. “Are you a feet-guy now?”
His head snapped up, his cheeks flushed, but his eyes were dark with pure, unfiltered want.
“I’m a you guy,” he rasped, his voice rough and uneven. “I’d worship every inch of you if you let me, ma’am.”
The sincerity and desperation in his voice made heat pool low in your belly, and you smirked, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Every inch, huh?” you teased, your tone sultry. “Guess I should let you, then.”
His lips parted as he stared up at you, his chest heaving like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Please,” he whispered, the single word dripping with need as his hands gripped your legs tighter. “Let me.”
Joel didn’t hesitate when you gave him a soft nod, your smirk still firmly in place.
His hands slid slowly down your thighs, reverent and careful, like you might vanish if he wasn’t gentle.
Joels lips parted as he lowered his head, brushing a slow, deliberate kiss against your knee before trailing lower, his breath warm and shaky against your skin.
“Go on, baby,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as you tilted your head, watching him with a lazy sort of dominance. “Show me how much you mean it.”
Joel groaned softly, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs tighter. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, the heat of his lips sending a shiver up your spine.
His nose brushed against your skin as he moved closer, inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough of you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “Smell so good. Always do.”
Your smirk deepened, and you gave his hair a soft tug, guiding him closer to where you wanted him.
“You’ve got a smart mouth when it comes to saying all the right things, Joel,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, put it to work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joel rasped, his voice trembling. He didn’t waste another second, his lips brushing against the damp fabric of your panties.
The first touch made him groan, the sound desperate and guttural as he pressed his face closer, his nose nudging against your clit.
You gasped softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. “That’s it, baby,” you whispered, your tone calm and encouraging. “Yeah, just like that.”
Joel’s tongue flicked out, dragging along the wet patch that had already formed against the thin fabric.
He moaned as the taste of you hit his tongue, and the vibrations of the sound sent a sharp jolt of heat through your core.
His lips latched onto you through your panties, sucking softly as his nose pressed harder against your clit, grinding into you with every movement.
“You’re such a good boy, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like silk. “Look at you, so desperate to please. Bet you’ve been thinking about this all day.”
He whimpered, his hands sliding up to grip your hips as he buried his face deeper against you.
“Every day,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Think about it every damn day. Wanna taste you, wanna make you feel so good.”
You smiled, the sound low and indulgent as you gave his hair another tug. “Then take them off, baby,” you whispered, your tone commanding but patient. “Show me how much you want it.”
Joel’s hands shook as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, his lips brushing against your hip as he slid them down your legs.
He didn’t even bother to move them completely out of the way, his attention entirely on the sight of you bared before him. His breath hitched, and he licked his lips, his eyes dark and filled with reverence.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice wrecked.
You chuckled softly, leaning back against the desk and letting your thighs fall open a little wider.
Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs as he leaned in, his lips parting to drag his tongue slowly through your folds.
The first taste always made him moan so loudly you couldn’t help but smile, and his tongue worked with desperate precision, lapping at your entrance before moving up to flick over your clit.
“Fuck, Joel,” you breathed, your nails grazing against his scalp. “You’re so eager, baby. So good at this.”
He whimpered against you, his tongue pressing harder against your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently.
His nose brushed against you with every movement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body as he lost himself in you.
“Keep going, baby,” you whispered, your tone calm but firm.
Joel moaned again, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as his tongue worked faster, licking and sucking like a man possessed.
He was all-in, his desperation and devotion pouring into every movement, every sound, every shuddering breath.
Joel pulled back briefly, his face slick with your arousal, his breaths heavy and uneven. His thick fingers slid up your inner thighs, his touch featherlight, reverent, like he was handling something holy.
He reached your folds, his large fingers spreading your pussy lips apart, exposing your swollen, glistening clit to his dark, hungry gaze.
“Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice low and trembling as he stared.
His fingers gently held you open, and for a moment, all he could do was look - memorizing the way you glistened, the way your cunt clenched with anticipation.
His mouth opened slightly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he bit down softly on the plush skin of your inner thigh, making you jolt.
“Joel,” you warned, your voice thick with arousal. “Don’t just look.”
Slowly, he leaned in to take your throbbing clit into his mouth again. - But then, under his breath, he grumbled,"Bet that asshole Paul ain't ever seen somethin' this fuckin' pretty."
Your brows furrowed immediately, the heat between you both briefly eclipsed by confusion. "Paul?" you snapped, your grip tightening in his hair, pulling his head back roughly.
Joel winced but didn't dare meet your eyes, his cheeks flushed as his lips glistened from where he'd already tasted you.
"You're jealous?" you demanded, a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone, though there was something undeniably sultry in the way you said it.
Joel stammered, shaking his head, though his guilty expression betrayed him. "I just- he don't deserve to be 'round you like that."
You blinked, momentarily surprised by his audacity.
Then, something wicked curled in your chest, and your smirk returned as you leaned forward, your fingers threading into his hair to tug him to his feet.
Joel stumbled up, flustered, his face red as you pushed him back against the table with a force that knocked the breath out of him.
"You're jealous of Paul," you said again, quieter now, voice dripping with mock disdain as you stepped closer, your hips brushing against his.
Joel swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of the table for balance as you caged him in, your body pressing against his like he had nowhere to go.
His lips parting to reply, but no sound came out. His eyes darted to yours, wide and needy as you leaned in close, your lips ghosting over his ear.
"Would I touch Paul like this, Joel?" you murmured, your voice low and teasing as your hand slid down to press against the thick bulge straining in his pants.
Joel let out a strangled whimper, his hips jerking forward instinctively at the contact.
"Answer me," you commanded softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to make him groan. "Would he be this hard for me?"
"Fuck-no," Joel choked out, his voice wrecked and trembling. His knuckles turned white where he gripped the table, his whole body tense beneath your touch. "Ain't no one else gets this. Just me. Please - always me, ma'am."
"That's what I thought," you whispered, a smug smile curving your lips as you slowly unbuttoned his pants.
Joel's chest rose and fell in sharp, shaky breaths as he watched your every move, his gaze dark and glassy with need.
"You think Paul could ever handle me the way you do?" you continued, teasing the waistband of his boxers now, your fingers brushing the bare skin of his hips. "Think he'd know how to please me like you do, baby?"
Joel shook his head desperately, his voice barely a whisper as he rasped, "No, ma'am.Never."
"Good boy," you purred, leaning back just enough to look him in the eye.
Joel's hips bucked forward slightly, his cock throbbing beneath your touch, but you stilled him with a firm press of your hand.
"You really think l'd let anyone else have me like this?" you murmured, your tone low and commanding. "You think I'd let anyone but you eat my cunt in this office?"
Joel whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he let out a shaky, broken sound that shot straight to your core.
"Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Please— don't stop."
You smirked, leaning down to press your lips to the corner of his jaw, letting your teeth graze his skin. "You want me to prove it to you, hm, baby?"
Joel nodded frantically, his head falling back as his entire body trembled beneath you.
"Yes," he breathed, his voice raw and needy.
"Please... Show me l'm yours. I'll do anything, ma'am. Anything."
And with that, you sank back down to your knees in front of him, dragging his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, leaving him bare and vulnerable as you stared up at him, the wicked gleam in your eyes making Joel's cock throb painfully in anticipation.
"Alright, handsome," you whispered darkly, your lips brushing over the sensitive tip of him as Joel let out a desperate groan, his hips jerking forward.
"Be a good boy, and I'll make you feel like the only man in the world."
Joel's head tipped back, his hands scrambling for purchase on the edge of the table as your mouth closed around him, and the only word he could manage was a broken, worshipful, "Fuck."
You kissed along the thick length of his cock, slow and deliberate, dragging your tongue in a wet line up the underside until you reached the sensitive tip.
Joel’s body tensed, and a deep, broken groan tore from his throat as his hips jerked forward, chasing your touch.
“Ma‘am,” he choked out, his voice rough, his knuckles white where he gripped the desk behind him. His chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths, eyes blown wide with need as they met yours.
You smirked wickedly, your lips brushing over his flushed, aching head. “Yeah, baby?” you teased, your voice dripping with dark amusement as you kissed him softly, deliberately avoiding where he wanted you most.
“Looks like you’ve been neglected.” You licked up the shaft again, savoring the way he whimpered, the sound breaking into a low, strangled growl. “But that’s on me, huh? I’ve been so busy…”
Joel’s head tipped back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re—fuck, you’re what Jackson needs,” he stammered, his voice wrecked and almost pleading. “S’okay. I get it. You—you’re keepin’ us safe.”
His hands shook as he forced himself to look back at you, his eyes glassy with desperation.
“Oh, Joel,” you murmured, your voice like silk as you nipped lightly at the sensitive skin, making him jolt with a sharp inhale.
“Jackson might need me—but I got someone else at home who needs me now too, hm?” You shot him a pointed look, your tongue flicking out to swirl around the tip as Joel let out a wrecked noise that made you clench around nothing.
His breath stuttered, his entire body trembling beneath your touch. “Me,” he rasped, his voice cracking into a whimper, the word soft and desperate as it fell from his lips.
You hummed, lips curling as you dragged your tongue along the sensitive ridge beneath his head before wrapping your mouth around him completely, taking him slow and deep until the tip nudged the back of your throat.
Joel let out a loud, guttural groan, his hips jerking involuntarily as he felt the wet heat of your mouth envelop him completely.
You pulled back just enough to let him slip free, a trail of spit and pre-cum stretching between your lips and his swollen, aching cock.
It twitched violently in the cool air, slick and flushed dark at the tip, thick veins standing out along his length as it oozed a steady bead of milky pre-cum.
Your eyes trailed over it with a wicked glint, drinking in the sight of him—so messy, so utterly ruined—and your lips curled into a slow, smug smile as you lazily pumped him with your slick hand.
The noise it made was filthy, each movement a slow, deliberate glide of your palm over his slicked skin. “Look at you, Joel. You’re already such a mess for me.”
You dragged your thumb over his leaking slit, smearing the pre-cum down the length of him, and his hips bucked sharply, a strangled groan tearing from his throat.
“Christ,” he choked, his head falling back, his jaw slack as his chest heaved. “Darlin’, please - please, I- ”
“Please what?” you teased, your tone light and mocking as you leaned back in, your lips brushing over the tip again, barely there.
Joel’s whole body jolted, and he whimpered—so loudly—as your tongue darted out to swirl around him, gathering the salty slick that had gathered there.
“Wanna fuck my throat, baby?” you murmured darkly, your gaze locked on his as your lips curled into a slow smile.
“Is that what you’re so desperate for? Hm? That big cock of yours buried all the way in, feelin’ me tight around you?”
Joel let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a plea, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice raw and wrecked. “God, yes, darlin’. I—fuck—please.”
“Then go ahead,” you purred, your hand stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. “Go on, Joel. Take it.”
He froze for half a second, as if the permission short-circuited his brain, before he stepped closer, his hands finally leaving the desk to cradle your jaw.
You let your mouth fall open, your tongue teasing his tip as he slid in, slow and careful, testing the waters. Your eyes stayed locked on his, and you hummed approvingly, encouraging him to move deeper.
“Don’t hold back, baby,” you murmured between breaths, your voice thick with sin. “I can take it.”
Joel groaned, deep and guttural, as he pushed further, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
You swallowed around him, and the sound that ripped from his chest was wrecked, his hips twitching as he fought not to lose control.
Slowly, he rocked forward, fucking into your mouth with careful, shallow thrusts, each movement slick and filthy with spit and pre-cum. You could feel him throbbing, could hear the desperate, broken noises spilling from him every time he hit just right.
“Jesus,” Joel gritted out, his voice low and wrecked as his fingers threaded into your hair, guiding you gently. “Feels so fuckin’ good, ma“am. So fuckin’ perfect—goddamn.”
You let him thrust just a little deeper, taking him until your nose pressed against the dark curls at the base of his cock.
Your throat flexed around him, swallowing him whole, and the growl that tore from his chest was loud and shattered, his control slipping further.
He pulled back, your spit trailing in thick, messy strings along his length, and you let out a satisfied hum as you pulled away completely, your lips wet and slick with him.
But you weren’t done.
Your hands slid up his thighs as you leaned lower, pressing your lips to his balls. Joel’s hips jolted sharply, his legs trembling beneath him as you kissed him softly, your tongue flicking out to trace the sensitive skin.
You smirked against him, releasing him with a wet pop before flattening your tongue and dragging it slowly, teasingly, down the sensitive skin just beneath his balls.
Joel’s whole body jerked, his knees threatening to give out as he let out a choked, desperate shout, his fingers tightening painfully in your hair.
“Yes,” he gasped, the word breaking as it tumbled out of him. “Yes, fuck, yes!” His voice cracked, hoarse and wrecked, as you continued your slow, deliberate path, your tongue barely grazing where he was most sensitive.
The filthy noises spilling from him grew louder, more frantic, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you pushed him further and further over the edge.
“Like that, baby?” you purred, pulling back just enough to whisper against the trembling skin. “Want me to lick even lower, huh? Is that what you want?”
Joel let out something between a sob and a growl, his head snapping back as his mouth fell open, panting for air like a man starved.
His body shook violently, and before he could even get the words out, his release hit - a sharp, shuddering jolt that tore through him like lightning.
“Fuck- oh, ma‘am- fuck!” Joel roared, his hips surging forward as his cock throbbed and pulsed, spurting hot, thick ropes of cum across your face and blouse, the first one hitting so hard you moaned softly at the sheer force of it.
His voice echoed off the walls, a deep, primal sound that he didn’t try to be quiet - didn’t care who heard.
“Shit- oh, darlin’ - fuck, I- ” Joel was lost to it, wrecked and trembling, his hands shaking in your hair as his cock twitched again, more of his release spilling onto your tongue and chin.
You caught as much of it as you could, sucking softly at the head of him as he moaned, loud and shattered, the tension in his body finally breaking.
“Such a good boy for me, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice thick with satisfaction as you swirled your tongue lazily over his still-pulsing tip, gathering the last drops of him.
His cock was slick and messy now, glistening with cum and your spit, and the sight of him—ruined and trembling, his thighs shaking so hard he could barely stand—made you smirk with pure satisfaction.
Joel’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stared down at you, his face flushed and wrecked, his chest heaving like he’d run for miles.
“Jesus,” he rasped, his voice barely there, as if the words were dragged out of him.
You licked at your lips, smearing a streak of his release off your cheek with your thumb before sliding it into your mouth, sucking softly as you held his gaze.
Joel’s body jerked at the sight, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he couldn’t decide whether to pull you up or drop to his knees.
“Made such a mess, baby,” you teased softly, reaching up to stroke his still-twitching cock, your hand gliding easily over the slick mess coating him.
Joel groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips gave an involuntary jerk at your touch.
“Didn’t even care who heard you, huh?”
Joel let out a low, wrecked sound, his face buried in his arm as he leaned heavily against the desk for support. “Don’t fuckin’ care,” he muttered, his voice muffled and rough. “Let ‘em hear. Let ‘em all know I’m yours.”
You smirked, rising slowly to your feet, your body grazing his as you straightened. Joel’s hands found your waist immediately, his grip still shaky, like he needed to hold on to you or risk collapsing completely.
You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, low and sweet, “That’s right, baby. You’re mine.”
Joel groaned softly, his head tilting back to meet your gaze, those dark eyes still heavy-lidded, glassy with the remnants of his release.
There was something else there too - something softer, flickering in the depths as he stared at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Always yours,” he rasped, his voice still wrecked but thick with something deeper. “No one else, darlin’. Just you.”
Your smirk softened, your fingers sliding up to trace along the stubble of his jaw before you cupped his face gently in your hands. “Yeah?” you murmured.
Joel’s breath hitched as you tilted your head and kissed him—softly, slowly—your lips molding to his in a kiss that stripped away the desperation and left nothing but warmth.
He sighed into it, his arms wrapping fully around you now, pulling you in close until you were flush against him.
You pulled back just slightly, your forehead resting against his as you whispered, “I’m yours too. Always.”
Joel’s chest heaved, his hands tightening on your waist as his thumb traced slow, soothing circles against your skin.
“Okay, baby? No need to give Paul the stinky eye,” you teased softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
Joel’s brows knit together, his face shifting into something defensive but playful as he pulled back just enough to look at you.
“I wasn’t givin’ him the stinky eye,” he grumbled, though the way his jaw twitched betrayed him.
You snorted, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up. “Joel,” you teased, your grin spreading wide.
Joel’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through, and he huffed softly, shaking his head. “You’re seein’ things, darlin’,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind his words.
You laughed harder, leaning your forehead against his as his low, rough chuckle finally broke free, rumbling deep in his chest.
The sound sent warmth flooding through you, and before you could say another word, his lips found yours again.
This kiss was softer now—easy, lingering, the kind of kiss that said I’m here, and you’re mine.
Joel’s hands slid up your sides, cradling you close as you melted into him, the laughter fading into something softer, something sweeter.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, you brushed your nose against his. “You were totally giving him the stinky eye,” you murmured, grinning.
Joel chuckled again, shaking his head as he pressed another kiss to your lips—soft, deliberate, and warm. “Maybe,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and fond. “Maybe I was.”
Smiling, you brushed your fingers along his jaw, your touch gentle, grounding. “You’re the sexiest and most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on,” you murmured softly, the sincerity in your voice leaving no room for doubt.
Joel froze for just a moment, his brow furrowing slightly like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. Then, his face softened, his cheeks coloring just a little as his lips curved into a lopsided smile.
“You really think that?” he asked quietly, his voice rough, almost uncertain, as though he didn’t quite believe it.
You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “No, Joel. I know that. Don’t go gettin’ all humble on me now.”
Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, your voice a whisper. “No one else could hold a candle to you, Joel Miller. You’ve got no reason to be jealous of anyone.”
He huffed out a small laugh, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer, like he needed to feel you against him to believe it.
After a minute - you stepped back. “C’mon, handsome,” you teased, your voice soft but playful, “let’s get home, yeah?” You winked at him, your grin infectious.
Joel huffed a soft laugh, his hands still resting on your hips. “Yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, proud smile. “I got somethin’ for you at home. A little somethin’ I found today.”
Your eyes lit up, curiosity sparking as you tugged his hand gently. “Ooh, a present? You’re spoilin’ me, Miller,” you teased, grinning wide.
Joel chuckled, ears red, shaking his head as he let you pull him along.
· · ──𖥸
“A candle?” you breathed, your eyes widening as you turned it over in your hands, the label simple but faintly worn.
The smell of something warm and sweet reached your nose, and you blinked up at Joel, completely caught off guard.
Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flickering to the floor as a faint pink crept across his cheeks.
“Yeah,” he said, a little awkwardly, his voice low. “Found it while we were out on patrol. Smell reminded me of you… I don’t know, somethin’ soft and warm—real nice. Figured maybe you’d… like it.”
He shifted slightly, his hands fidgeting against his jeans as he added quickly, “I mean, it’s nothin’ fancy. If it’s too much or too soon—”
“Joel,” you interrupted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you brought the candle closer, inhaling the faint, soothing scent.
Something in your chest tightened, an unexpected warmth spreading through you that made your throat feel thick. It had been so long—years, really—since anyone had given you something just because they thought of you.
Joel paused mid-ramble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, worry lingering in his expression.
Before he could say anything else, you stepped forward and kissed him—soft, sweet, and lingering.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice shaky, tears threatening to spill as you smiled up at him. “Thank you so much, Joel. You don’t… you don’t know what this means to me.”
Joel’s brows softened, his hands reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice warm and low, “you’re welcome, darlin’. I just… I wanted you to have somethin’ nice. Somethin’ that’s yours.”
You smiled, blinking through the tears as you leaned into his touch.
“No one’s given me a gift since I was seventeen,” you admitted softly, a hint of laughter in your voice as you tried to play it off, but Joel’s expression only grew more tender.
“Well, I’m makin’ up for lost time, then,” he said, his voice steady, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smile.
You let out a soft laugh, pressing your forehead against his, your hand still clutching the candle like it was the most precious thing in the world.
“You’re somethin’ else, Joel Miller,” you whispered, your voice fond and thick with emotion.
Joel chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through your hair. “Yeah, well… you’re worth it.”
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
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nxsturn · 1 month ago
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virgin!reader x matt sturn
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warnings: suggestive (dry humping, praising, talking you through it), humiliation (if you squint).
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the room was dimly lit, a faint glow emanating from the bedside lamp. you straddled Matthew’s hips, his hands resting on your waist as he guided you through the awkward motions. the friction of your clothed bodies rubbing together sent unfamiliar tremors through you.
he whispered encouragements, his breath warm against your neck, "like this, see?" he bucked his hips slightly, showing you the rhythm he wanted you to follow. you could feel how hard he is beneath his jeans, even through the thick fabric, it was unmistakable.
as you awkwardly gyrated above him, his hands slid from your waist to your hips, gripping tighter. his guidance became more insistent, urging you to press down harder, grind faster. a low groan escaped his lips, spurring you on despite the unfamiliar sensations coursing through your inexperienced body.
his face contorted with restraint, his eyes rolling back briefly as he fought to keep his hands on your hips instead of tugging your clothes off entirely. "damn it," he hissed between clenched teeth, his hips bucking more forcefully beneath you.
his intensity both thrilled and startled you. your cheeks flushed pink, breathing becoming shallow as the new sensations overwhelmed your senses. the friction between your legs was starting to feel.. good? too good? you bit your lower lip, hands gripping his shoulders for balance, unsure whether to continue or pull away.
he could see the conflict in your eyes, the hesitation written all over your face. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your back to keep you from retreating. "keep going," he murmured, his voice hoarse, "you're doing it right,"
his praise emboldened you slightly, and you began following the rhythm he had shown you. the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against the thin fabric of your shorts sent tingles through your legs, a strange warmth building in your lower belly. "that's it, baby.. just like that," his normally calm voice was thick with desire, breath hot against your ear as he whispered instructions. one of his hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair, while the other moved around to grip your ass possessively.
you gasped as he squeezed, pressing you further against him. the new position pressed you right where you needed it, and a small, surprised sound escaped your lips. your movements grew more instinctual, less hesitant, as you chased the unfamiliar but tantalizing feeling.
his fingers curled under your shirt, clawing at your skin as he tried to pull it up, needing more contact. "lift your arms," he growled, voice muffled against your neck as he tried to tug the fabric off.
hesitantly, you complied, raising your arms. the cool air hit your bared midriff as the shirt came off, leaving you in your bra. his calloused hands immediately mapped the newly exposed skin.
he stared at you in awe, eyes trailing over your face, neck, collarbone, and the gentle swell of your breasts above the lacy cups of your bra. "you're so fucking pretty," he murmured, almost to himself.
his fingers traced patterns on your back, while his other hand moved to cup your face, tilting it towards him. "really fucking pretty," he repeated, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
you melted into the kiss, your lips parting instinctively as his tongue sought entrance. the warmth of his mouth, the taste of him, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. your hands crept up to tangle in his hair, holding him closer as if afraid he might disappear.
your manicure nails dug gently into his scalp as your hips bucked wildly against his, chasing the blissful sensation that had been building for what felt like an eternity. with a hoarse cry, you finally reached your release, your entire body convulsing in pleasure as you coated your panties with your essence.
he felt you tense and heard your cry, knowing exactly what was happening. a low groan rumbled in his chest as he watched you fall apart in his arms, your face flushed, lips parted, and eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. "fuck," he breathed.
he continued holding you close as the waves of pleasure subsided, one hand stroking through your hair while the other kept a firm grip on your waist. his heart was racing, and he was still painfully hard against you, but all he cared about was making sure you were okay.
your breath came in ragged gasps as you gradually floated back down to reality, your skin sensitive where it touched his. a mix of embarrassment and pure contentment washed over you, making your limbs feel heavy. you'd never felt anything so intense, so all-consuming.
as you looked into his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions, multiplied tenfold. his gaze was unwavering, filled with adoration and affection. suddenly, the world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you.
he whispered, "stay," as he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you like shackles. the room fell silent — except for the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your ear.
©nxsturn
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tags:
@lolastrniolo , @marrykisskilled , @emely9274 , @sophand4n4 , @fmalewokk , @pinkbunnyie .
thank you so much for 200-300 followers! (and the 1k+ notes on two of my fics, are you kidding me????)
1K notes · View notes
greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago
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Reunited— Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader
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summary— You’re reunited with your boyfriend luigi and he shows you just how much he missed you.
warnings— fingering, slight voyeurism, oral(f!receiving) praise kink, bit of crying but luigi comforts you, L bombs, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, fluff.
a/n— originally posted on my ao3, where there’s another luigi fic <3 FREE MY MF MAN!
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
Luigi Mangione was not just another face in the crowd, he was a polarizing figure. He gained national attention after allegedly carrying out a calculated act of vengeance against a corrupt CEO you couldn’t care less about. He claimed his actions were a response to widespread exploitation and inequality in the healthcare system and you were 100% on board.
After leaving behind a manifesto that exposed systemic greed and corruption, he disappeared, sparking an instant nationwide search. Supporters hailed him as a modern day vigilante, while detractors condemned him as a criminal. You were by his side through it all, not only as his girlfriend but as his confidant and staunchest ally.
You had met Luigi three years ago at a charity gala. While his presence was understated, his charisma was undeniable. You had a passion for uncovering the truth and you were drawn to his fiery intellect and his conviction to make a difference. When he confided in you about his disillusionment with the corporate world and his dream to spark real change, you stood by him, even as the risks escalated.
When the authorities finally caught him, it shattered your world. Luigi was supposed to be halfway across the country by then, safe and untouchable. But fate had other plans.
After days of navigating legal hurdles, your boyfriend was granted bail thanks to the efforts of the legal team you assembled and the donations pouring in from his legion of supporters. The day you picked him up from jail was a whirlwind of emotions. Crowds of people gathered outside the facility, holding signs and chanting his name. The media swarmed like vultures, cameras flashing as Luigi emerged, his posture unyielding despite the chaos.
The car was parked a block away, avoiding the thick of the chaos. As he stepped out, the crowd screamed. He lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his voice cutting through the noise.
“Read the manifesto,” he said, his tone commanding yet calm. “The answers you seek are in there.”
The crowd erupted, some cheering, others debating. But Luigi didn’t linger. He moved toward you, his gaze softening the moment he saw you waiting.
The lawyer drove the two of you to a safe house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the faint bruising along his jawline.
“Baby, did they hurt you?” you asked, your voice trembling.
He exhaled, brushing your concern aside. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m just angry they didn’t let me speak.”
You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “They’ll hear you soon enough. You’ve already started something they can’t ignore.”
His eyes softened as he turned to you. “I missed you,” he murmured, his hand finding your thigh. “Every damn second I was in that shithole.”
You smiled, leaning closer. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
He kissed you deeply, his hand tightening its grip. “You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The car ride felt impossibly long as the reality of the situation weighed down on you. You kept glancing at Luigi, his sharp profile shown by the fleeting city lights. Despite the calm mask he wore, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
You reached over, your fingers brushing his arm. “I was so scared for you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Tears began to spill before you could stop them.
Luigi turned to you immediately, his expression softening. “Don’t cry, amore. I’m here now,” he murmured, pulling you closer. He pressed a series of tender kisses to your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.
“It’s just so unfair,” you choked out. “The media, the critics—they don’t know you like I do. You’re not some monster. You’re brave, kind, and caring. You only wanted to help people.”
He cupped your face, his gaze locking with yours. “Let them say what they want. I don’t need their approval. I have you, and that’s all I care about.”
You leaned into him, his words wrapping around your heart like a balm. “I just don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t,” he promised, his voice low and steady. “No one can keep me from you.”
As the car drove deeper into the night, Luigi’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm against your skin. He glanced down at your dress, his lips curving into a sly smile.
“You look so sexy in this,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “Did you wear it for me?”
“Yes,” you admitted, heat rushing to your face.
He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh. “Good. Because it’s driving me crazy.”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your neck. You shivered as he placed a trail of slow kisses along your skin. “You smell amazing,” he murmured against you.
His hand slid higher, and when his fingers brushed your bare pussy, he froze for a moment before letting out a low, appreciative moan. “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” he asked.
You shook your head, your breath hitching.
“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his voice laced with both amusement and desire. His fingers trailed to your clit, the heat of his touch making you bite your lip to keep from making a sound.
“Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and the need for discretion.
“Shh, amore,” he said, his lips still pressed to your neck. “Be good for me. Stay quiet.”
His fingers moved with purpose, his slow circles on your clit sending your nerves into a frenzy. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I missed this, missed you.”
The car hit a bump, jolting you both, and you bit back a gasp as he slipped a finger into you immediately, your hand gripping his arm tightly.
Up front, the lawyer cleared his throat, oblivious. “Almost there,” he said.
Luigi smirked, his fingers still working their magic. “Good. But not soon enough,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he praised you softly.
His touch became more deliberate, his fingers moving in a way that left you struggling to suppress your reactions. His gaze flicked up to yours, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
“You’re doing so well for me, amore,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I can feel how much you missed me from how wet you are.”
Your breath hitched as he praised you, his movements precise and slow, building that feeling inside. He kissed the side of your neck again, murmuring against your skin, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, biting to suppress your moans as his fingers curled inside you with his thumb rubbing your clit.
“I can’t—” you breathed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as your orgasm built.
“Cum for me, beautiful,” he whispered, speeding up his movements.
You bit onto his shoulder, using your other hand to pull him onto you as your orgasm ripped through you like a knife. You really hoped the seats weren’t messy.
The car slowed as it neared the safe house, and Luigi reluctantly withdrew his hand, his eyes dark with unspoken promises. “Just wait til’ we’re inside,” he said softly, his fingers brushing your chin as he gave you a quick, knowing smile.
His lawyer parked the car in front of the nondescript safe house, stepping out to hold the door for both of you. Luigi exited first, straightening his suit jacket before reaching for your hand. “Thank you,” he said curtly to the lawyer, who nodded and drove off into the night.
The moment you were inside, Luigi shut the door, locking it and turned to you, his expression filled with an intensity that took your breath away.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice rough as he pulled you close. His hands framed your face as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing you back against the nearest wall.
“Lui—,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your knees weak.
“You’re mine,” he said firmly, his voice filled with both affection and possessiveness.
His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m going to remind you how much I missed you,” he said, his voice a mix of promise and passion.
Luigi carried you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping you in the warmth of safety as he navigated the unfamiliar safe house. He gently kicked open the door to what you assumed was the bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress. His touch was soft, fingers lingering on your shoulders as he slid your straps off, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he was seeing you for the first time.
“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” he murmured, his voice filled with longing.
Your response was barely a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every second.”
He tilted your chin upward, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that deepened with every passing moment. As he undid the zipper of your dress, his movements were deliberate yet gentle. The fabric pooled at your feet, and his breath hitched slightly as his gaze took your naked body in.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone awestruck. His fingers threaded through your braids, tugging softly as he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path down your jawline and neck.
Your hands instinctively found his curls, tangling in them as he lowered himself to his knees before you. “Baby,” you whispered, the emotion in your voice evident.
“Shh,” he replied softly, his lips brushing your skin. “I need to take care of you first. Tell me how much you missed me.”
“I missed you so much,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, Luigi.”
“I love you more than anything. Let me show you just how much,” he replied.
His hands caressed your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your skin. His touch was reverent, almost as if he were worshiping every inch of you, his deep brown eyes gazing up with adoration.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet full of conviction. “Every part of you.”
His lips pressed against your pelvis, leaving a trail of warmth and affection that sent a shiver through your body. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his presence grounding you even as your heartbeat quickened.
“Luigi,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion and pleasure. Your hand instinctively reached for his curls, tangling in them as he smiled against your pussy.
“Let me take care of you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me—so patient, so strong.”
Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the sensation of his devotion. His praises washed over you like a balm, soothing the ache of the days you’d spent apart.
His tongue moved with precision, licking your clit as he used his fingers to spread your juices across your hole. A gasp left your lips as he moved down, slipping his tongue inside your pussy then continuing his movements on your clit.
“You’re everything to me,” he continued, his hands gently gripping your hips as he sucked your clit. “I don’t deserve how good you’ve been throughout this, but I’ll spend my life proving how much I love you.”
His voice alone sent a rush of warmth through you, every syllable filled with sincerity. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as your emotions surged.
Luigi’s lips curved into a small smile. “You’re too good to me, but I’ll never take it for granted.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. Every touch, every flick of his tongue was a promise that he would always cherish you, protect you.
He didn’t rush a single movement, cherishing the connection between you. You cried out as you gripped his curls tighter, your orgasm threatening to spill over.
“God baby, I can feel you clamping around my tongue, it’s okay, you can cum for me,” he urged.
With his name on your lips like a prayer, you trembled as you squirted on his tongue. He slurped your juices, guiding you through your high and savoring your taste.
When he finally finished and stood up, his arms pulled you close, cradling you as if shielding you from the world. “You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to us. I promise you that.”
Your hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I believe you,” you said softly.
He smiled, brushing a strand of your braids from your face. “Good.”
Luigi’s chuckled as you gently ran your fingers along his chest, stripping him off his clothes then pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes glimmered with warmth, his hands lightly brushing against your waist.
“You’ve done so much for me,” you murmured, leaning closer, your voice low but full of intent. “Now it’s my turn to show you how much I’ve missed you.”
His gaze softened, his hands sliding to your wrists as if to stop you. “You don’t have to do anything, amore,” he said, his voice tender. “Just having you here, holding you, it’s enough.”
You pouted but decided not to be a brat this once. “Whatever you say baby, anything you want.”
Luigi sat back, his strong arms pulling you onto him as if he couldn’t bear even a second without your closeness. He settled you against his chest, your bodies perfectly aligned, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. “So obedient,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple before moving to your forehead for a lingering kiss.
He tilted your chin up gently, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “I need to hear you say it.”
You nodded, your breath catching. “I’ve been craving this—craving you—this whole time,” you whispered, your words trembling with sincerity.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, one that spoke of everything unspoken, the longing, the love, the relief of being together again. His hands caressed your ass, grounding you as he shifted beneath you.
He paused, his movements deliberate, as he guided his cock against your pussy. “Slowly, baby,” he murmured, his hands firm but gentle on your hips. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”
A gasp escaped your lips as he sank deep inside you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate rhythm he set. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with restrained need. “You’re perfect—so tight, so ready for me.”
Your nails dug lightly into his chest as the intensity built, his words spurring you on. “You can take it, baby,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. “You’re so incredible.”
Luigi's praises, whispered against your skin, grounded you in the moment. “You feel like heaven, amore,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed you again, swallowing your soft cries.
Luigi’s grip on your hips tightened, as he guided you into a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust was purposeful, his body rising to meet yours. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. “You’re so perfect. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”
You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his curls as he set a steady pace. Every thrust was measured, filling you and making your breath hitch. “You’re taking me so well,” he whispered, his voice breaking with restrained emotion. “I can feel how much you’ve missed me.”
Your head tilted back, exposing your throat as his lips pressed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that make you shiver. “Luigi,” you gasped, your voice trembling.
“Shh, amore,” he soothed, his hands running up and down your spine as he adjusted the angle slightly, his cock moving inside your wet pussy deliberate and controlled. “Let me take care of you. Just feel me.”
His thrusts deepened, his hips rolling in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours, filled with unspoken affection and need. “So perfect for me.”
“Lu— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.
“I know baby, do it for me, cum on my cock,” he muttered.
Your body convulsed on top of him, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm hit you like a truck. He continued thrusting inside you, guiding you through the intensity of the moment.
Without missing a beat, he flipped you so that he was on top of you, his cock still inside you. His soft lips came down onto your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples as soft whimpers left you. You tried to grip onto him but he pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.
He thrusted into you deeply, your body jolting upwards as you cried out.
“Oh, fuck, that feels amazing,” you moaned, feeling him continuously brush that sweet spot inside you.
He went faster at your praises, his hips snapping to meet yours. “God, you’re so wet for me, beautiful.”
His large hands gripped your waist, slamming you onto his thick cock. His hand then moved to your lower abdomen, pressing against the outline of his cock moving inside you.
“Feel me baby? Feel how deep I am inside you?” he murmured, pressing on your abdomen and slamming into you.
“S-so deep,” you whimpered.
He reached down to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him as his pace never faltered.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, I know you are too. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna breed this pretty fucking pussy,” he said.
You wrapped your legs around him, grinding against him. “That’s my good girl, trap me in baby, cum with me while I fuck a baby into you.”
His words sent you over the edge and you moaned his name as you felt his hot load spurt deep inside you. “Take it, take it, take it, beautiful,” he gasped, fucking you as ropes of his cum spurted inside you.
You babbled incoherent words, shivering under him as the intensity of the moment was almost too much.
“Now, when you get pregnant, you’ll always have a piece of me,” he cooed. He stayed buried inside you, relishing in the warmth and wetness of your pussy.
Luigi gently pulled out of you, his hands steady as he helped you shift. His concern for you was immediate, his touch soft as he carefully helped you to your feet. “Let’s take care of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with care. He guided you to the bath, his eyes never leaving you, as if making sure you were okay, every part of you.
He settled behind you in the large, warm tub, the water soothing as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest against your back. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body surround you, as he gently massaged the soap across your skin. His hands were steady and comforting, washing away the physical remnants of the day, but it was more than that—he was taking care of you in every way, his touch full of tenderness and love.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck softly. “I promise, I won’t let them take me away again. We’ll fight this, together.”
You closed your eyes, your heart swelling with emotion as you leaned back against him. His hands gently cupped your face, turning you to look at him. “I really hope so,” you whispered, the fear from earlier still lingering, but his presence grounding you. “I’ll always be by your side, Luigi. No matter what happens.”
He smiled, a soft, knowing smile that reached his eyes. “I know,” he whispered, his voice full of reassurance. “And I’ll never let you go.”
As the warm water surrounded you both, the world outside seemed so far away. All that mattered was the two of you, in that moment, connected in a way that nothing could tear apart.
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camdenleisurepirates · 14 days ago
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Oh yum. Loved this the first time it came across my dash, still love it today. And now so much better with the process stills and the references!
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A Place to Call Home --- --- ---
This piece was commissioned by my dear friend @tawnyontumblr for HER dear friend @saretton to accompany a WONDERFUL fic that Tawny wrote for Saretton's birthday!
The fic is A Place to Call Home (Explicit, on AO3), a Human AU set in the Late Victorian/1890s and featuring Portrait Painter!Aziraphale and Stage Actor!Crowley as his artistic muse. I am in love with this concept.
Crowley's voice was almost too soft to hear. It nearly faded amidst the sweep of Aziraphale’s brush over canvas, the carriage rattling past outside—another layer of stimuli amidst the light, and the smell of linseed oil and turpentine. The way the fabric Crowley wore hissed gently over his skin as he slowly, minutely shifted position and then moved back.
He half sat half reclined on a Louis XVI armchair that Aziraphale had picked up in an estate sale. His legs were crossed, and the emerald banyan, embroidered with gold, slid from one shoulder. Aziraphale had been staring at that curve of lightly freckled skin while he'd been mixing rose madder and Chinese white, letting the brush sweep over the damp canvas as he sought to give voice to the hunger he felt.
The idea here was for me to paint the portrait of Crowley that Aziraphale is painting in the story.
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Tawny asked me to paint with John Singer Sargent vibes, who is quite possibly my favorite artist of all time, and one of, if not the greatest, portrait painters of the 19th century. It's quite a tall order to try to imitate his style, so I settled for something Sargentesque! She also specified that "I want I am both painting and fucking him vibes. Intimate. That's the word." And I hope I delivered.
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@goodomensafterdark Ya'll need to go read this fic its hot af.
I post all of my work, including the really filthy shit, full-sized WIPs, tutorials, comics, exclusive pieces, and more on my on my Patreon
A print of this piece will be up in my print shop on INPRNT!
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kamiversee · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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12 | and I know
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, semi-public sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, filth, praise, fluff, comfort(?), slight exhibitionism, etc.
❧ Word Count | 5.5k
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——“Uhuh, thaaat’s it. Ride that fuckin’ cock. Jus’ like that.” Gojo’s grunting out to you within the next few minutes. You knew he was a talker but fuck, it really does get significantly worse every time you engage in these sexual acts with him. “What’s my name? Say it again f’me, pretty. Sounds s’good on your tongue.”
He is so stupidly talkative that it's almost painful, mainly because you’re trying to maintain the constant bounce on his long cock. That leaked, blushing pink tip of his is just French kissing the sweetest depths of your cunt and you’re left ridiculously addicted.
“S-Satoru… hnngh-, fuck,” You babble in between the thick stretches of Gojo’s cock slotting into your greedy cunt perfectly. His dick is so mean against your soddened walls that you swear you’re cockdrunk after only the first few minutes of riding him. Not to mention the way he’s talking to you is doing wonders at making your mind go blank.
With his head all relaxed back against the seating of the car, his darkened blue eyes overly enthralled by the gorgeous display of your body over him, and his hands helping you fuck yourself on him just right—Gojo’s in heaven just as much as you are right now. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ perfect for me, shiiit.” He sleazes, moving his hands back to relax along the expanse of his car’s seating.
All he wants to do is just sit there and watch you for a bit. His eyes are everywhere on you though, dazed by each jump of your tits, the way his shaft disappears inside you over and over as you cry out his name, and the way your face dazes over in the most slutty expression he’s ever seen from you.
“Y’know how long I’ve been-, fuck… wantin’ to see you like this?” Gojo hums as he moves one hand. He can only ever keep his touch off of you for so long before that urge consumes him again. That hand of his falls on your hip and he guides you through the next roll against him, “Y’look so fuckin pretty ridin’ this cock. Like it was made f’you, ughh fuck.”
Your brows meet in pleasure and a breathy moan of his name starks past your lips. His groans are by far one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard. Each one ripples out from deep within his chest, bottom lip having this slight quiver to it each time he releases that sinful sound and his abs visibly tensing up at every clamp your pussy makes around him. 
The moonlight from outside was the only thing illuminating Gojo’s sweat-slicked body as you rode him in earnest. The windows of his car had slightly fogged within the few minutes you’ve been having sex in this position and anyone who walks by for even a fraction of a second would know what was going on in there without a doubt.
Part of the reasoning behind that being the grunts and groans from Gojo accompanied by the delicate moans of his name pouring from your mouth, and the other reason being the slight bounce of the vehicle. It’s a faint movement, sure. But anyone could gather what was taking place behind those foggy-tinted windows of Gojo’s car.
The man’s gaze soon focuses on your tits and he’s stuck in a small trance watching the consistent recoil of them as you move. So stuck that he involuntarily leans forward and wraps his fingers around your waist for a second, then his lips are cupping your right perked bud into his mouth and he’s latched onto you like a damn slug.
With an eager suck and a muffled groan, you feel that slick tongue of his whirl around your nipple—flicking it in between his teeth for a second before pulling away slightly just to spit on it. “Pretty body like this deserves worship,” Gojo rasps hotly into your skin before taking you back into his mouth. Then his eyes flick upward and he catches the way you’re whining for him.
“Satoru,” You whisper, one of your hands losing its fingers into the tangled mess of his white hair as you hold him in place. Then your hips are rutting against his in more jerky movements and you can feel his cock slap so sloppily against your syrupy clenched walls.
He angles his head a bit more so you can watch him suckle your nipple against his tongue lewdly. Humming a lazy, “Mmh?” In response to your small cry of his name. “Y’like that?”
You just nod and intimacy glosses over both of your eyes. “Uhuh, f-feels good,” You stammer, feeling him groan messily at your words.
Gojo flashes a lopsided smile before lulling his tongue out, allowing you to get the raw sight of the muscle swirling around your perked bud languidly. “Mmh, good. S’all I wanna do,” He slurs into you as one of his hands slides down along your body languidly until his thumb approaches your clit and he gives you this mean and abrupt swirl.
A gasp emits from your throat and Gojo’s smile only grows more wildly obsessed. The expression on your face, the sudden tightening of your walls around his aching cock, the changed pitch in your breathing—oh fuck, it’s intoxicating. Gojo’s thumbing at your clit faster than he realizes without second thought, infatuated by how insane he’s driving you right now.
You quickly shoot a hand down to his wrist and hunch forward, your forehead falling to his shoulder as your hips come to a jerky halt. Your lips remain parted and your legs feel like they’re turning into unmoving mush. “W-Wait,” You choke out, feeling his thumb swat left and then press. “Fuck, Satoru—“
Before you can even finish moaning his name, you’re making a filthy mess around him and your body is twitching ever so slightly.
Smiling wider, Gojo’s lips press against your ear and his voice dips into that deeply soft aroused pitch, “There she is,” He praises ever so sweetly while caressing your clit with his thumb softly and relishing in every tense grasp and spasm of your cunt.
He remains gentle with you for a little while longer, letting your high die off and being careful not to drive you straight into overstimulation. You’re busy panting heavily against his shoulder and your hips have unconsciously lifted so he’s not even fully inside you anymore.
Gojo lets off a hum and glides his hands over to hold onto those hips of yours, his touch tender. “You can give me another one, right?” He requests into your ear whilst feeling your body up again.
Your hands move to hold onto his wrists and it takes your mind a second to come almost all the way down from your high. Batting your lashes, you lean up from his shoulder and meet his eyes with a surprisingly eager nod. “Mhm,” You hum, guiding his hands downwards to remain glued to your hips, “M’not… done with you yet, ‘Toru.”
There’s an angry twitch of his cock felt inside you but what really gets you going is the crazed way in which his smile shifts, practical hearts fluttering through his gaze in reaction to your words. The confidence you had so suddenly despite the way you were just clinging onto him desperately has the man in a frenzy. “Oh?” Gojo muses, slouching back again. “Well, shit. M’all yours, sweets. Give this cowboy a nice ride, yeah?”
Rolling your eyes at his never-ending corniness, your hands leave his wrists and graze over his chest as you give him a brief feel. Gojo shudders beneath that small touch of yours, his brows just barely tensing while his eyes flick back and forth between you caressing him and your focused expression. Then, in an instant, your eyes meet his and you have this nerve to smirk.
The man doesn’t even get a chance to gather what’s about to take place before you’re retracting your touch from his anxious body and placing your hand atop the cowgirl hat you’ve got on—having remembered what kinda costume you were wearing and the way you hadn’t stripped yourself of the get-up completely. And oh, are you the most perfect woman Gojo thinks he’s ever laid his eyes on because when you tip your hat back a bit, cock your head to the side a little, and roll your hips forward perfectly, he realizes he’s about to get a slight show from you.
Damn the way your eyes stay on his too ‘cause now he can’t hide the way his eyes flicker as you grind against him sensually. Back and forth ‘n back and forth. The rhythmic rock of your body against his was driving him insane. Gojo’s jaw falls faster than he realizes at the very second that his cock delves deep inside you. Then he makes the mistake of looking down at the connection and oh god…
“Fuuck me,” Gojo pants thickly, “F-Fuck me, baby. Shit, d-don’t—oh fuck,” He sputters out, spotting that sexy bulge of his cock imprinted against your skin. He was so deep, stuffing you nice ‘n full.
You move a hand to his chin and his breath leaves his throat entirely in a faint gasp as you force his head up. Now he’s met with your face again and shit, he’s so weak. “Eyes on me, ‘Toru. C’mon,” You direct gently.
Lifting languidly, you watch him choke out moans with each time your pussy sloshes down on him, engulfing his dick in your warmth and sucking him in perfectly. Gojo doesn’t even remember what he was mad about before this. Hell, what’d you guys even come out here to his car for? Surely it wasn’t this… this is…
“Satoru,” You call you, breaking him from his daze. Then you lean forward and your thumb swipes against his bottom lip, “You’re drooling…”
At that point, he doesn’t even try to suppress the whine that leaves his throat. It’s loud and clear all for you—striking against your ears in this desperate pitch that makes your cunt throb wildly.
Your hands steadily snake around his neck and you pull yourself close to him, chest to chest, and breaths mingling with one another again. His eyes can’t leave yours now, not when you’re this close, and not when you’re gazing at him so intimately. Your pace picks up again and Gojo’s losing his everloving mind at each and every swivel and swirl of your hips. So nasty with these sloppy squelches echoing against the expanse of his car.
Now nonverbal, the vehicle feels ten times hotter than it was before. You’re so close to him that he fears for the possibility of you hearing that thrumming heart of his against his ribcage. Gojo’s nervous.
Or… He was until his plump cockhead thwacks against this spongey spot inside you and your entire body reacts with a quick lift of your hips.
It’s then that his mind seems to start working again—his hands gripping onto your skin tighter than before, “Nonono, don’t run from it, lemme feel her ‘real good,” Gojo rasps out heavily, his glassy eyes glistening over as you ease yourself back down nice and slow so that his cock can hit that spot again. “Mhm, riiide this dick, sweetheart. There you go, keep that pretty pussy on me—fuuck..”
He’s right where you need him and he knows it by your twitching expression. You’re losing your composure all over again and the confidence you had moments ago is fading into orgasmic bliss. “S-, aah… Satoru,” You gasp lightly, the words hardly leaving your throat while you try lifting yourself again to escape for a moment.
Gojo shakes his head. “That’s it, ‘Toru’s gotcha’. Hold onto me,” He instructs, still maintaining that honeyed eye contact as he feels your arms begin to lock around his neck.
He leans back even more, your body angling along with him. Then, Gojo places his large hands on the purchase of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and lifting your cunt almost all the way off of his cock slowly. Once only the tip is left kissing your pussy, you get half a second to catch your breath before he pushes you right back down on him even slower than before. Lazily letting his thick cock spread your drooling pussy open all over again.
“So fuckin’ wet,” He grunts, using his grip on your ass to slick your cunt up and down his dick messily.
It’s slow at first but with the next whine of his name you let out, Gojo gives your ass a harsh slap before keeping you in place and then thrusting his hips upward.
Your jaw falls and you start drooling, “Fuck, ah.. mnh, S-Satoru, fuck me,” Your words are just spilling out of your mouth as Gojo drowns his cock up into that filthy cavern of yours, tip gushing at the wet gurgles leaving your cunt whilst he bottoms out.
His balls smack heavy against your ass with how hard he fucking himself up into you. Eventually, he finds his mouth hanging open and his eyes rolling all the way back once he gets a nice pace going for himself. “Right here, huh?” Gojo huffs mid-thrust, just barely prodding against that sensitive spot of yours for a bit before hitting it directly and watching your eyes go wide ‘n then fall back. “Yeahh, that’s the spot, isn’t it?”
You’re clinging onto him all over again, your nails scratching over the upper skin of his back as words fail to form in your mouth. The only thing leaving your throat was wet moans before Gojo smiled again and then pressed his lips to yours.
It’s a filthy, drool-induced kiss but neither of you seems to care. Wet smacks from all over ricochet throughout his vehicle as the two of you get entirely lost in one another. From the constant thick stretch of his cock to the needy way in which his hands explored your body, you’d found yourself forgetting how you got to this point with him as well. Gojo’s hands smoothed along your tensed skin each time he guided you down on him, his lips locked with yours eagerly in contrast as he did so.
And then you weren’t fairing much better—running your nails all throughout his hair, along his shoulder and back, scraping at his skin, and hissing into his mouth when he hit too deep. Most of his vehicle was fogged with the air of sex by this point, safe for the windshield which wasn’t as fogged since it’s all the way in the front but it’s not like anyone would be looking or watching the two of you.
After all, it was dark where Gojo had his car parked so neither of you had a care in the world. Not only that but, as said before, a person would be able to tell what was taking place inside that vehicle anyway. It’d dip down and then spring back up in a rhythmic fashion that only meant one thing…
Given that, you were far too caught up in fucking Gojo to the brink of insanity that the last thought to cross your mind was the possibility of someone walking by the car and seeing what happened. Or, more specifically, someone you know walking by and spotting the two of you.
The world probably has something against this man because it’s really just his luck that when he decides to break away from the party to get some fresh air and go on a small walk, it’s Gojo’s car he’s passing by. Now, he spotted the bouncing of the vehicle long before approaching it but he had no idea whose vehicle it was and it’s not like that was his first time acknowledging some horny couple going at it in the car.
What told Choso that it was Gojo’s vehicle was the all too familiar muffled sound of your moaning along with the faintly blurred sight of your costume top. Of course Gojo has decent tint on his windows, y’know, all except for the windshield which has a lighter tint on it… That, and the fact that Choso found himself staring too hard so it wasn’t hard for him to spot you.
Tripping over his own feet as he realizes it’s you, the man stumbles forward to quickly pass the car with a loud clearing of his throat.
And the cherry on top? The fact that the sound that leaves his throat hits your ears from inside.
Your lips messily detach from Gojo’s and both of you are panting as you turn your head to glance over to your left, watching as someone’s silhouette passes by the car rather quickly. “Shit, Satoru,” You call out breathlessly as your eyes follow the outline of someone distancing themself from the vehicle as fast as they could. Hell, it looked like they were running away.
Gojo grunts, “Huh? What’s wrong, why’d you stop?”
You look back down at the man in all his unkempt glory, watching a small bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. He was such an unfairly pretty man. “I think someone saw us,” You hush out to him before snatching your gaze away from his attentive blue eyes and glancing elsewhere in search of any other people who may be passing by.
The man beneath you releases an airy chuckle, “Oh, that’s what you’re worried about? Now?” Gojo teases. He can’t help but find it funny how you worry about the possible chance of getting caught while he’s damn near balls deep inside you. 
“Yes, ‘now’, I think I just saw someone walk by,” You tell him.
It’s silly that you’re concerning yourself with this even though no one should be able to tell who’s doing what in his car from the outside. Gojo shakes his head softly, trying not to completely dismiss your concern as his hands slide down to the underside of your thighs. His thumbs caress your skin and he leans up a bit just to angle his head into the crook of your neck. 
“So? I doubt they know or care what we’re up to in here,” He assures you, “But, hey,” Gojo leans his head over so that you can look at him again and when you do, he flashes you a small comforting smile, “Would it really be so bad if someone did see us?”
You let off a huff, “Yes!”
He laughs, “Why?”
“Because…” Okay, truth be told, you could care less if someone saw the two of you. If you were truly worried, you would’ve never gotten yourself into this position (literally) in the first place. So, when he asks you why, you’re not really sure of what to say. “I just–”
“Are you worried about someone seeing you? Is that it?” Gojo asks. As those words leave him, you feel his hands grip onto your thighs a bit tighter. “‘Cause that’s an easy fix, sweets.”
You hadn’t realized how spacious Gojo’s car was until he was flipping you over and having you lay back against the seats of the vehicle. For a small moment, his cock slips out of you while the two of you get repositioned and before you have much time to register everything, he’s on top of you and folding your legs up against your chest.
Grinning down at you now, Gojo tips his head to the side, “Is this better for you? Now if someone looks and sees anything, all they’ll see is me.”
You bat your damp lashes up at him for a moment before nodding. “Y-Yeah, this is fine…”
“Unless you wanted to stop completely?” He goes on to suggest, searching the look in your eyes carefully for a second only to watch the way you quickly shake your head.
Moving to grab a light hold onto his arm, you sigh, “Nono, this is fine. We can uhm… We can keep going.”
Gojo lets out a relieved sigh and then looks down, angling his hips and parting your legs further just so he can nudge his cock back inside you. With the first careful thrust, you’re moaning and he’s groaning already as if he wasn’t just inside you a few seconds ago.
Then he leans down to you and fuck if he wasn’t deep before then he damn sure is now with the way he presses his weight down against you and rolls his hips in.
You gasp sharply and let out a curse beneath your breath, the small sound enough to have Gojo falling right back into that addictive state of need. He drags his hips back tentatively before fucking himself into you at this perfect pace that has your mind forgetting all about the worry you’d harbored mere moments ago.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Meanwhile, now back at your shared apartment was a rather… hopeless Choso Kamo.
He doesn’t think he’s ever left a party that fast before. Sure, the thing in the kitchen had been one thing but that? Oh, his poor heart just couldn’t take it. And neither could his cock, apparently.
Yeah, by the time he makes it home, he’s slamming doors and snatching his clothes off, irritated by the mere fact that he just had to be the one person to have spotted you and Gojo having sex. What makes it so humorous is that he’s also the only person who was able to tell that was you in that car with him, anyone else would’ve just minded their business or not have been able to tell it was you.
But, y’know, when you’ve been friends with someone for over eight years and have been through all kinds of shit with them, it’s only fair for you to be able to recognize them by their blurred back profile inside a car at wee hours into the night… right?
Fuck. All Choso wanted to do was go on a walk and now he’s back home, pissed off, and… stupidly erect.
It’s shameful the effect you have on him, truly. He shouldn’t even relieve himself of his arousal right now honestly. Choso doesn’t even know why he’s in this state. His mind is annoyed but his body is on some other type of vibe entirely. It only takes one or two replays of your body bouncing up and down in a way that’s far too familiar for the man to find his hand wrapped around his dick.
“Fuck,” Choso sighs tiredly. He couldn’t even make it to his room either, spread out right on the couch in the living room, tossing his head back, thinking about you all over again, and driving himself crazy.
It’s a brief and very lazy jerk-off sesh, one that has the poor guy feeling shameful the moment he cums at the thought of you giving him that usual glare of yours. 
He’s screwed, and not in the way he’d prefer right now.
So fuckin’ screwed.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
In the midst of that, you’re busy on cloud nine as you’re getting fucked through your nth orgasm of the night. You didn’t know it was possible for you to be folded up and stuffed so dumb in such a short amount of time and yet there you were.
You’d lost count of how many times you’d cried out Gojo’s name tonight along with how many times you cum around his weighty cock. By this point, your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and he’s mid-orgasm—stuffing you overly full and causing his cum to spill out from your puffy overstimulated cunt. 
Gojo’s right in your ear again, huffing and puffing while choking out your name and babbling something about how perfect you are. His dick is inside you twitching and throbbing so aggressively with each spurt of cum that leaves him.
This was probably his second or third time finishing inside you for the night. His car will definitely need a deep clean after this but he could care less about that right now.
“F-Fuck,” He whispers to you, his hands carrying this slight tremble as he holds onto you. “Shit, I think I lo–,” He chokes on his own words, struggling not to let his high cause him to say something insane. “I’m losin’ my mind.. Sorry, ignore me…” He ends up mumbling before hiding his face in your neck out of embarrassment.
You laugh, just barely, “S’okay…”
Aside from the heavy breathing and occasional shift of bodies, tranquility now settled into the car. For quite a while, Gojo just lays on top of you, listening to your rapid pulse calm down as the two of you take your time in catching your breaths.
Even when you both get your breathing in check, neither of you makes any attempts to move. The not-so-distant sound of the party still going on is oddly comforting paired with the warmth of Gojo’s weight on top of you. You end up running your hands through his hair soothingly and you’re sure the two of you would’ve fallen asleep just like this if not for the fact that you were laid up in the car together.
Eventually, Gojo’s the first to speak up. “This is nice y’know,” He whispers. His voice is so soft and yet hoarse at the same time. It makes your heart do that weird flipping thing again.
A scoff escapes your nose, “Yeah, we should do this more often…” You utter jokingly.
You then feel his smile quirk against your skin. “Do what? Ditch parties to fuck in my car?” He taunts breathily.
Rolling your eyes at him, this time not of pleasure, “Not exactly, no. I think I was talking about this—the cuddling…” You say to clarify as your fingers come to a halt between his hair.
“Ohhhh,” Gojo hums, lifting his head slightly, “Y-Yeah, of course, I knew that!” He laughs, slightly nervous. “But, yeah. We should do this more often. You smell good.”
“Do I?” You ask, lips twitching into a soft smile.
Gojo buried his head right back into the crook of your neck, inhaling dramatically before exhaling heavily. “Mhmmm,” He mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “And you’re sooo warm… everywhere.”
It’s then that you realize he’s yet to pull out of you, softened cock resting so snuggly inside the depths of your cunt, and the mess between the two of you yet to be cleaned. There was surely a ring of filth down in between your sandwiched bodies but aside from that, you were too content in the moment to bat a single eye at it.
Your hands drift down to Gojo’s neck, thumbs grazing his jawline and signaling him to lift. To which Gojo’s head raises on que and his eyes steadily flit to yours. You don’t even have to ask for what you want because Gojo’s sighing and gradually pushing his lips onto yours.
The connection is smooth like silk, almost as if Gojo’s lips rightfully belong against yours. They then part and it’s practically loving the way your tongues intertwine in a sweet symphony as a mutual hum leaves your throats. Lust is nearly forgotten for a moment and your heart is fluttering as he shifts against you—fingertips dancing up and down your body tenderly just as he pries away from your mouth to suckle your lower lip into his mouth.
His eyes crack open only to watch the way your lip falls back into place as he releases it, a sigh falling from him and landing right against your wettened skin. 
Gojo’s pupils dilate for a moment and his breath hitches within his throat. He’s not sure what came over him but… “God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He breathes out without a second thought.
Catching you entirely off guard, your face flushes at the sudden compliment. “Thank you,” You end up fumbling out delicately. Then your hands carry over to his face and your palms meet his cheeks, “So are you, ‘Toru.” 
This is way too damn intimate for two people who have ‘no feelings’ for one another, isn’t it? Questions aside, you find your thumbs slipping against the skin below his eyes, and you grinning before you even realize it.
“Handsome too,” You utter, visibly catching him off guard.
Gojo’s lips part again and this time there’s this deep throb in his chest. His whole expression softens beyond belief and whatever confident facade he’d been putting on, cracks before your very eyes. “Oh,” He suspires in pure awe, “Warn me before you just…” His words trail and his face comes down a bit, forehead meeting yours at rest, “…Compliment me like that. But, thank you.”
The two of you shut your eyes for a while longer to let this moment truly sink in. It’s almost like you were high on something—everything felt… like bliss.
You weren’t complaining or anything but fuck this was weird. You didn’t feel this after you slept with Choso. Maybe your best friend had a point, maybe you do have deeper feelings for Gojo than you realized. And hey, you know you had a crush on the guy but damn, do all crushes feel like this??
If liking Gojo makes you feel like you’re high then you don’t think you ever wanna come down. And to top that off, you’re pretty sure he feels the same. Or, he’s feeling the same thing you are right now, anyway. 
You’re too scared to ask that though, it’d probably ruin the moment entirely. Especially if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings and this whole thing turns out to be some weird post-orgasm thing…
All that completely aside, you definitely want more. Unlike your time spent with Choso, you don’t regret or feel guilt at all right now. You’d repeat the day you’ve had over and over again if it meant Gojo would be in your arms like this by the end of it. 
Your grin stretches into a smile and you unexpectedly chuckle at yourself, causing Gojo to open his eyes and look at you. “What?” He hushes out in a curious tone.
You shake your head, “Nothing, I just… It’s like you said, this is nice.”
He lets out this small grumble before moving to kiss your cheek. “I warned you I’m a clingy drunk…” 
This time you giggle, “Oh please, you sobered up a while ago.”
You got him there… “Whatever, that’s still what brought us to this point,” He huffs off.
“It’s okay to admit you’re a clingy person in general.” As you say that, Gojo grimaces at the truth behind such a statement. He was hoping he’d go a little while longer without you realizing.
But, since you’ve caught him red-handed, he’s got no choice other than to shrug and accept defeat. “Fine, fine. I’m a bit of a clingy person. But… That doesn’t bother you, does it?” He asks with a faint tilt of his head.
Now you lean up and peck his lips, whispering a glacé, “Not at all.”
Again, this is really fuckin’ intimate for two people who have ‘no feelings’ for one another—this being a thought shared subconsciously between the both of you as he snickers and you smile. 
Breaking all that sappy shit for a moment, you end up yawning almost obnoxiously. Which leads Gojo to a laugh. “You tired?” He asks.
“Clearly,” You reply in between another yawn.
“Want me to drop you off at your place or…” Hesitating, Gojo has to trail his gaze elsewhere to finish the rest of his statement. “Or uhm, do you wanna spend the night at my place?”
You’re taken by slight surprise by his sudden offer and although you’re fatigued, your eyes light up a little. “Your place sounds fun.”
“Yeah?” He beams, leaning up from you slowly.
The last thing he received from you was a sleepy nod of your head. After which, Gojo rushed around his car to get the two of you all cleaned up and somewhat decent. He’d tried to get you to put some of your clothes back on but you complained about it being too tight and ended up wearing nothing but the hoodie you’d worn earlier that day before you’d gone costume shopping.
After that, it didn’t take long for you to find yourself deep in your slumber while seated in the passenger seat & Gojo was quick to get everything else situated.
Just before he pulled off, he’d given your resting expression a long stare and his mouth moved to say something but even he was unsure of what. Once his senses returned to him, he redirected his focus onto getting the two of you to his home safely.
It’d be your first time spending the night there so he was admittedly a little nervous. But, what really struck his heart was how much you trusted him. He’d make note to value that from you, deeply.
That day was something to remember.
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