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#and they are both so soft with each other
notjustjavierpena · 3 days
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(Mid)summer Loving
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Main Masterpost
A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 
Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 
Word count: 3.1k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128
(Mid)summer Loving
It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 
You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 
The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.
His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 
Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 
Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 
You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”
“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”
“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.
However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 
‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 
“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 
“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.
“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”
You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 
Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.
Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 
When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.
“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 
“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”
“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 
“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 
“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 
You. 
He wants you. 
That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 
“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”
And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 
You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 
His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.
“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”
“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 
Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 
The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 
You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 
Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 
“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 
“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 
You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 
“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 
“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”
“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.
“I’m—“ you sob.
“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 
You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 
He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 
Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 
“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.
You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”
He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 
“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 
“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 
“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”
“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 
He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”
You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.
“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 
While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 
He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 
The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.
.
.
.
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faetreides · 3 days
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pwetty please more dom art, switch patrick, sub reader. that blurb was so so good i think “Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” may be the hottest thing anyone has ever said ever actually
# 🫀HONEST HEARTS 🪤 !!
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cw: WEIRD VIBES, dom art switch patrick sub reader coded, heavy on the art x patrick, breeding kink/pregnancy/ambiguous baby trapping (???), art’s lowkey mean, daddy kink (referring to patrick), patrick calls you a slut, oral (afab reader receiving), patrick’s sandwiched in between you & art, anal sex (m receiving), summer heat will have you displaying behaviors and acting in ways, ambiguous era, feminization (one use of “mama” not in a mommy kink way), stream of consciousness style writing, they’re gross but so are you, reader having a hamlet holding up the skull moment
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Art fucks Patrick like a bat out of hell, you lie beneath them wet and wanting as you watch patrick’s sweaty body flail around like a ragdoll. Art squishes your bodies together, pressing his weight against Patrick's back. There’s so much pressure on your lungs, you’re scared you’ll pop. The humid July air is so thick around you that the plush bedding feels swathed in a soft old film yellow tint, you and Patrick swap glassy eyes when his tip finally sinks into your tight ass. No lube in sight, you want pain that only skinny dipping in a private river after dark will fix. Reminders of youth, the sting from the current as it travels through the indents of teeth.
You would think Art had become a ferocious shark, inky pupils dripping onto Patrick's shoulder blades and toothy grins, feral and lead only by his cock at the first scent of blood he could catch. yours, Patrick’s, his. Patrick fucks your ass to the point of no return, his pace never ceasing until all you is the word “Daddy” howled out over and over. Every thrust earns art deeper inside of him, Patrick greedily rolls his hips back. In appreciation Art leans down and watches his spit highlight how cock drunk the two of you are, a see through trail trickling down both of your faces onto the pillow.
It’s like Art doesn’t have any worth until he’s fucking you and Patrick out of your minds at the same time. He hooks his chin in Patrick’s shoulder, winking down at you as he ramps up the speed of his thrusts. Patrick’s eyes tighten in pleasure-pain but any sounds he has to offer are muffled in the seams of your slick lips, you open your mouth to catch them and hoard them all. Breathy pants and whines and growls becuase Patrick may be the one getting fucked the most, but you should never forget who’s next in line to benefit from this little symbiotic expression of your relationship. You’re the atlar, solid foundation and the center of life’s devotion. Art and Patrick are the attendants, bringing you animal sacrifices in the form of their flesh and soul and hearts. In their bones and in the nerves connecting to their brain, where you all exist in an undefiled state even as fluids are spilt in between the cracks in the marble. A poor man’s kintsugi.
Patrick begs Art to cum, but you defer to Patrick when it’s your time to be a babbling brook around his thick length. Art always says yes when the other man’s balls deep in you, plus he has dibs on your pussy this week. It’s in their nature, to desire each other carnally and still keep each other entangled in steep competition even when those desires are fulfilled in excess. Art really wants a baby, you’ve been too gung ho to bounce all over the world as if it were your very own tennis court. Explaining it by using their busy careers as an opportunity, you must not know that you’re best when you’re right where they can see you. Even if they’re not there, jerking each other off to grainy security cam footage is their own bonding time. Sometimes you put on shows for them, modeling expensive lingerie that you think is going to be a surprise for their welcome home. Art always has an eye and a hold on Patrick, they both want that with you too.
“Go on,” He whispers for only Patrick’s uniquely shaped ears to hear, sorry angel. “The sooner you give our baby that nice big tangy load I know you’ve got for us, the sooner I can get their tummy swollen.”
Daddy gets his favorite kind of kisses when he floods your ass with cum, and he licks the remaining drops off your stretched rim with Art’s hand heavy on his head. You get your kisses too, from each of them until you’re sinking so far into that dreamy kind of headspace that affection from you means you lazily smack your lips together and call it a job well done. Fuzzy voices coo at you that it was indeed a job well done, squelching noises accompany Patrick reluctantly pulling out. You both whine the exact same way, Art beams and shushes you, using Patrick’s bruised ass to get rock hard and wet again for your puffy pussy.
“Just like that, fuck! Should have taken a picture, don’t you think? Make it last longer, keep you useful.”
All talk, as long as he’s alive he’ll have use. Existence breeds obsession, split three ways, the way some god intended. Like calls to like, moths to flame, water to silent desert rock, bleeding knuckles to piping hot iron, copper to silver, bones to soil, ball to grass-clay-concrete court.
Patrick hates it when you and art fight, turning him into a scared puppy. He doesn’t say to your face that he agrees with Art, that you shouldn’t leave the house amidst all the stress that a possible pregnancy can bring. Stress that’s easily worked off under their touch, stuffed full of so much cum that it might as well replace your gray matter. You can’t run laps around the house despite it being what your anxiety is telling you to do. You have to wait there on the toilet, holding each of their hands as you wait for the test results. Once the necessary time has passed, you can’t overcome your nervousness and instead wait for Art to look at one of the sticks.
You barely catch a glimpse of the test result when you’re tackled. Patrick’s on you first, sucking your tongue into his mouth while cradling your head in his hands so you don’t feel it when you bump into the wall. Art chastises him of course, pulling him back by his ear to give you some space. They’re both smiling, wide and blinding white grins so dazzling that you’re worried you’ll go blind. Their reactions alone tell you more than you could ever need to know, the monarch butterflies scurry from stomach to stomach. Those teeming with life and those forever starving. Art gives you a slow kiss and hums into you, the vibrations travel down to your flexing toes. Bubbly laughter drowns out the cracks of lightning outside, baby blanket blue on fire white.
You want to be loved in a way that’s wrong and out of sorts, your arousal is heightened by what your paranoia tells you will be someone’s undoing. Yours or theirs. Both. No one really needs pure intentions to love or be loved at the end of the day, and maybe that’s something to be grateful for. There are people who can love the sin as well as the sinner. Your hormones are doing a number on you, that much is clear, if you’re philosophizing about the morals of being in love when there more than likely are none. There’s just that so much time to think, that initial fear of being left when you yourself would be too overencumbered to. Art picks up on these kinds of thoughts more often than Patrick, who’s just happy to belong somewhere and to someone. The former busies himself with the heft of your tits. Sucks the life out of your hard nipples and then some, he adores when you come begging with a dripping cunt after a late afternoon nap because you had a very good dream.
“Lie back angel, working so hard right now… you need a break, mama.” Art giggles, engaging in a riveting one on one conversation with your throbbing clit, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as he locks clear eyes with your sleepy blinks. “Pussy’s gushing like a fountain now, ‘s so chubby too, I hope you never fucking work off the baby weight.”
Later they’ll wipe you down from the shower with their tongues, slurping up the water droplets like they’re bugs hovering around an in bloom blush pink flower because they’re freaks like that. Patrick’s out on the now usual run to the nearest convenience store for your latest cravings, he’ll try it with you too no matter what it is. Art does his best, but you’re too sensitive to others being nauseous to handle seeing his skin almost cartoonishly flood with a light mossy green undertone. Fall brings a whole new array of food combinations and flavors of snack cakes just waiting for you to inhale them worryingly quickly. Art brings your focus back to him with a teasing nip to your bud, closing his lips around it and giving it a firm suck as the front door unlatches. The crinkling of plastic grocery bags reach your ears before Patrick’s corny “Honey, I’m home!” does. More single minded than a dog with his bone, the bags clatter to the floor and his shoes pound the floor on the way to where you’re cumming on Art’s face in a flash of white.
Patrick frowns, “You know I don't like you being a slut when I'm not there, now you owe me two rounds.”
Art reminds the other man that you might not have the energy for the two rounds he’s imagining, full of slapping skin and ghoulish howls, Patrick simply says that you can drift off while he ruts away. Into you or on you, so long as his puffy tip is touching some sort of skin, makes him wish he could burrow and dig a tunnel inside you. Live in one of the chambers in your heart, Art in the other, your kids in the next, a no vacancy sign boarding the last of them shut. You tilt your head to the side so he runs his nose along the faint line of your pulse. He should record the echoing rhythmic thumps for when they’re traveling and can’t sleep without their missing piece. His chest burns when the words well up and won’t come out how he needs them too, how can you express that you need to live in someone’s very dna without letting your huge dick do the talking for you? He’ll quite possibly never know, maybe a rare showing of Art riding Patrick into the center of the earth as he gasps for life saving breath will be enough for you.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Questions
Aitana Bonmatí x Codina!Reader
Summary: You vs Carla the social media manager
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You see her coming, eyes wide in fear.
Your teammates haven't seen her yet, wrapped up in their own conversations.
You turn to go but Lucy's got an arm thrown over your shoulder, wrapped tightly around you like an iron bar.
You try to wiggle out of it but you can't.
"Girls," Carla says as she approaches, phone already out to capture content," What's your phone lockscreen?"
You breath a sigh of relief that it's a tame question.
You never quite knew what Carla wanted from you so you thought it best to just ignore her sometimes.
"Me and my sisters," You say plainly.
"Can we see it?"
You think for a moment. "No."
You walk off.
"Oh! Come on, y/n!"
You laugh as you go, waving teasingly as Lucy's caught showing her own lockscreen to the camera.
Carla is your frenemy. You're not the happiest on camera. You don't really enjoy being put on camera and asked silly questions. You're never quite sure how to respond or what kind of response she wants from you.
Carla knows this and you both like to make it a game to see how many times she can catch you out each week.
You're winning at the moment, escaping from her nine times out of ten this week including a fairly daring escape where you leapt over the barriers and climbed the fence to get away from her.
She filmed that too and it circulated through the staff and team groupchat. Someone even sent it to Laia in England so she called you just two nights ago to laugh at you.
But, still, she kind of caught you this time and you're not going to be happy about it.
"Carla get you?" Aitana laughs as you enter the locker room with a frown on your face.
You huff. "I don't want to talk about it."
It's a little embarrassing to talk about it with Aitana. You've been crushing on her for years at this point and you know it's mutual too.
Just neither of you has made the first move yet. This dancing around each other is so you and Aitana that you're not too sure why you would change it.
Aitana can be the one to make the first move.
"You know," She says," You can just admit defeat."
You scoff. "It's almost like you don't know me at all. The day Carla gets me to admit defeat is the day that you finally go on a date with me."
Aitana laughs, winking. "Maybe you should hurry up and admit defeat then."
Your mouth falls open. "Wait, are you being serious?"
Aitana grins, a soft kiss being pressed to your cheek as she disappears out of the room. "Am I?"
You don't have much time to dwell on Aitana's words because training starts and by the time you get home, you've all but forgotten about them.
Your life is blissfully Carla free in the coming days and she doesn't resurface again until Thursday, when you're walking in with Aitana talking to you, one hand around your arm as the other is used to gesture about what's got her so excited.
You spot Carla make a beeline for you and you know that you can't do one of your daring escapes again unless you want to shove Aitana away and you never want to do that.
So, you stay with her and admit defeat to Carla for once in your life.
"Which team member would you not let date your daughter?" She asks and you sigh.
"Er..." Aitana says," Maybe Cata."
"And you, y/n?"
You shrug. "Aitana. Because my daughter can't date their other mother."
Carla laughs, lapping up your answers before sending you both on your way.
Aitana's frowning though and you bump her with your hip.
"Something wrong?"
"Did you mean it? About your kid not dating me?"
"Our kid," You correct with a shrug," Besides, I allowed Carla to ask me a question. I think this means you owe me a date."
Aitana rolls her eyes. "Pick me up at seven. I'd like dinner at some place fancy."
You grin. "You got it."
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hot-pota-toes · 3 days
Text
"And they were roommates" (teaser)
Eddie Munson x Onlyfans Reader
MDN1 18+
WC: 700
Summary: Eddie's crush on his roommate is constantly weighing him down to the point that he's desperate to find any content that reminds him of her so he can jerk off and go to sleep. Imagine his surprise when he finds a video of you, legs spread as you touch yourself proudly on camera
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Eddie shouldn't be doing this.
Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this.
It was an accident, a complete accident. Eddie has been secretly crushing on his roommate for a few months now but hasn't done or said anything about it yet. You weren't trying to kill him, you'd just come into the kitchen to grab a snack wearing a baggy T-shirt and some torturously small sleep shorts. You weren't even doing anything intentionally sexual to set him off, but it was enough to make Eddie excuse himself to bed early to get rid of his growing hard on.
He had touched himself to the thought of you, multiple times actually. But this was the first time he was looking up someone like you to help fuel his imagination. He was looking up your hair color, your body type stuff like that into his porn searches but wasn't actually expecting to find you. He must've been seeing things there was no way that it was actually you. The thumbnail had you in nothing but your bra, legs spread, hand in between your thighs as you touched yourself, proudly smiling into the camera.
Holy shit, He tapped on the video to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't help it. He didn't even bother loosening his jeans before shoving his hand into his underwear. The woman that he's been pining after for months is right there, on his phone screen, getting herself off in her room. Her room. Which shared a wall to his room in their cramped apartment. Eddie has had heart eyes for you the second you moved in. His friends knew about this, saying that his crush on you was painfully obvious. He just hoped that it wasn't obvious to you.
He actually struggled to speak to you for the first few days, until you and some mutual friends all went out for dinner. Steve eventually pulled him aside and threatened to embarrass him in front of you, as a way of forcing his confidence. It didn't take long to break the ice, discovering that you both had a lot of similar interests. Now, both you and Eddie feel safe to call each other pretty close friends. Watching horror movies together on the couch, smoking weed together while blasting music. You had even gone to see a few of his shows at the hideout when you weren't busy.
For now, Eddie continued pumping his leaking cock, trying to match your pacing to you through the screen of his phone. He's almost hypnotized watching your fingers disappear inside yourself wishing that it was his instead making you feel so good. He can see how wet you are from the glistening on your fingers when you pull them out, And the wet sounds it makes when you put your fingers back in. Fucking hell. The regret will sit heavy on Eddie's chest tonight, but all he can think about is how sweet you look whilst you continue sliding your fingers through your folds, whimpering softly against the pillow, trying to stay quiet. If only Eddie could be there, on his knees with his tongue between your legs whilst you slide your fingers into his curls. You probably tasted so sweet.
Eddie cums in his pants with a soft whimper. It was uncomfortable and desperate, the worst kind of dampness. He instantly cursed himself for not removing any of his clothing before wrapping his fist around his cock. In his defense, his discovery was sudden and exciting, and Eddie didn't even think about locking his bedroom door, let alone preparing himself properly. As the video continues playing he starts scrolling through your channel and is surprised not just by the amount of videos you've posted. But the views, the likes, the comments, there were just so many. Not just on this one but all of them.
You'd never really told Eddie what you do for a living, it never really came up in conversation. He only knew that you work from home, which technically isn't a lie. But this is never what he would've guessed what you meant. The video eventually ended, fading to black with some white text appearing. Eddie enlarged the video again to read it. ‘Hey Guys!!! Thank You So Much For Watching! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) To see more of me Check Out My OnlyFans!!! Link Here!’
He was fucked
A/N: this is just a little taste of the first chapter of this fic ;) rn the word count just hit 7k but didnt want to post something unfinished. I'm touching up the ending and don't know how long it will take me to complete it. Hope you enjoyed this little teaser 😋
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mina-saiyat · 3 days
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Rumors Part 1 (Jihyo)
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A/N: So the voted Rumors part 1 is out! Enjoy the gym sex with Jihyo! Honestly I love this pink tanktop so much, if the video is a bit longer, I am definitely going to fap to this outfit
On this day, Jihyo came to the gym wearing tight sportswear. Her breasts almost popped out of her bra, and her two slender legs were looming under her shorts. All eyes were on her as she walked into the dressing room.
In fact, the reason why Jihyo is keen on fitness is quite private - she has always been in love with strong and muscular men. Whenever she sees those macho men sweating profusely between the machines, her heart beats faster and her body becomes unbearably hot. She believes that with her plump and proud figure, she can easily seduce any man who is exercising and bring him into the locker room to enjoy some intense sex.
"Hello, everyone~ I'm Jihyo!" She smiled sweetly and greeted everyone. Several muscular men immediately gathered around to chat.
"Jihyo, are you here to work out? We happen to be doing bench presses. Do you want to give it a try?" a strong man invited.
Jihyo blinked her eyes, with a playful smile on her lips: "Okay, I haven't tried this equipment yet. But I need you to teach me, Oppa~"
The man readily agreed and couldn't wait to take her to the bench press. The two began to rub together ambiguously, and Jihyo deliberately released a seductive aura. Not long after, the man's breathing became heavier, and his lower body became obviously erect...
Jihyo looked at the almost naked strong man in front of him with satisfaction and licked his lips gently. She knew that her charm was unstoppable and that she could easily make any man fall for her with just a little hint.
"Oppa, am I doing right?" Jihyo lowered her body, deliberately exposing her deep cleavage. As she asked, she kneaded the hard member with her hands.
The man had already lost his mind and could only make an indistinct sound: "Well...it feels so comfortable...push harder..."
Jihyo smiled charmingly, then put his palm on the thick cock and stroked it up and down. She felt her lower body becoming wet and slippery, eager to be filled by this hot giant.
"Jihyo...I want...I want you now..." The man grabbed her wrist and wanted to kiss it, but she cleverly avoided it.
"Oppa, don't worry. Wouldn't it be better for us to go inside and enjoy it slowly?" Jihyo stood up and teased the man's lips ambiguously with his fingers.
"Of course..." The man nodded anxiously and followed Jihyo to a private room in the corner of the locker room. This place is usually used by members to change clothes temporarily, but now it has become a venue for them to party.
As soon as the door closed, the two of them kissed each other eagerly. Jihyo deftly unzipped the man's pants, took out the cock that was ready to go, stuffed it into her mouth and swallowed. The man let out a sigh of contentment and grasped her plump buttocks with both hands, as if he wanted to melt her into his body.
Jihyo knew that her proud breasts had already firmly grabbed the man's attention. She deliberately slowed down when taking off her clothes so that the man could fully appreciate her plump breasts. When she finally unhooked her bra and her two white breasts almost jumped out, the man's breathing became heavy and he stared straight at her.
"Brother, do you like it? Do you want to try my breasts?" Jihyo caressed her breasts, squeezed and kneaded them gently, and licked her red lips ambiguously with the tip of her tongue.
The man let out a beast-like growl and nodded eagerly in agreement. Jihyo supported his hard desire and sat on the ground, then sandwiched the hot head between her soft cleavage, and began to move her body up and down, so that her plump breasts tightly wrapped the thick and long cock.
"Ah...it feels so comfortable...Jihyo's breasts are so great..." The man closed his eyes and raised his head, as if he was about to reach climax. Jihyo felt a little bit of sweet sweat oozing out from her breasts, making the clouds and rain even more moist, hot and lustful.
"As long as you like it, oppa... I will make you feel comfortable..." Jihyo sped up her pace, letting her nipples constantly rub against the sensitive coronal sulcus. At the same time, she also felt a warm current flowing out from the depths of her womb, and her lower body became even wetter...
Just when the man was about to reach his peak, Jihyo suddenly stopped and let his ready-to-go cock slide out of her breasts. The man opened his confused eyes and looked at her in confusion.
"Is Oppa coming soon? That's not possible~ I want Oppa to enjoy it for a little longer." Jihyo's eyes were as charming as silk, and she gently stroked her red breasts, "We have to take our time, not so fast. Just end it?"
Seeing the man's dissatisfied expression, Jihyo smiled with satisfaction. She knew that her method worked. This man was fascinated by her, and all he could think about was her body. Just a little more teasing can make him crazy about her and at her mercy.
"How do you want me to serve you, oppa? Tell me your little thoughts, and I will satisfy you~" Jihyo lay on the man, deliberately letting her nipples rub back and forth against his strong chest muscles. The man reacted immediately, wrapping his hands around her slim waist and pressing her into his arms.
"Jihyo...stop torturing me...I want to enter you directly..." His voice was full of desire and anxiety.
Jihyo smiled and shook her head: "It's still early now. We have a whole afternoon. Oppa let's feel my breasts first~" After that, she sandwiched the hot head between the soft cleavage and started move her body up and down...
Jihyo watched with satisfaction as the man almost lost his mind in front of her. She knew that she had completely taken control of the situation, and no matter what she did next, he would not refuse her request. This pleasure of conquest made her extremely excited, and her lower body became more and more eager...
Jihyo's breasts were held in the man's hands and kneaded into various shapes. The white breast flesh spilled out from between his fingers, and the red nipples were engorged and swollen by his sucking. But even so, Jihyo still didn't let the man get what he wanted - she always stopped when he was about to reach the top, forcing him to endure it.
"Oppa, you are too impatient. We have a whole day to play slowly, don't we?" Jihyo smiled, deliberately twisting her body and rubbing her soaked clitoris against the man's inner thigh. "Besides, if you cum now, I'm going to be angry~"
Hearing this threat, the man immediately sobered up. He knew that he had been completely bewildered by the witch in front of him, and if he really let it out, she would definitely look down on him even more. He gritted his teeth and held back the climax that was about to explode, waiting for Jihyo to wrap his desire with her proud breasts again.
"Okay, then I'll just take my time." Jihyo patted the man's face frivolously, and then sandwiched the fiery head between the plump cleavage. This time, she deliberately accelerated her speed and rocked her body up and down, causing the two soft breasts to rub against the hard-as-iron cock.
"Ah... Jihyo... your breasts are so amazing... I feel like I'm going to cum..." The man hugged Jihyo's slim waist tightly and let out a low gasp. Jihyo once again stopped at a critical moment, forcing him to readjust his breathing rhythm.
"We have just started, oppa, don't worry." Jihyo licked her lips, with a teasing light in her eyes.
The man had already lost his mind under Jihyo's teasing, and only the most primitive desires dominated his actions. Jihyo deliberately stopped every time he was about to reach climax, forcing him to endure the huge impact. This ecstasy experience drove him crazy, and his sanity was losing bit by bit.
"Jihyo...please...I really can't bear it anymore..." The man hugged Jihyo's body tightly and almost begged. Jihyo just smiled and rubbed his soft breasts against the increasingly thick cock, as if he was deliberately teasing him.
"Oppa, I'm not happy when you're like this. You said you wanted me to serve you before?" Jihyo looked at the man pretending to be aggrieved, "If you don't cooperate obediently, I might be angry~"
Seeing Jihyo's coquettish look, the man couldn't resist. He knew he couldn't bear it anymore, so he had to summon up the last bit of willpower and said: "Okay... I will be obedient... You can do whatever you want... I just ask you to let me cum." ..."
Jihyo showed a victorious smile, touched the man's cheek and kissed him softly: "I knew that oppa is the best~ So, are you ready? I'm going to make you feel so happy!"
Jihyo swallowed the ready-to-go cock into her mouth until its head was pressed deep into her throat. The man's breathing became heavy and rough in an instant, and he couldn't help but insert his hands into her hair.
Jihyo used the tip of her tongue to roam around the man's cock. Whenever she licked the sensitive coronal sulcus, the man would involuntarily push forward. But she always avoided it cleverly, refusing to let that sensitive part go deep into her mouth. This kind of distant touch made the man fall into unprecedented madness.
"Jihyo...you monster...I'm going to be tortured to death by you..." The man held Jihyo's hair tightly, as if he wanted to stuff his whole cock into her mouth. Jihyo smiled even sweeter, deliberately slowing down and tracing the shape of his cock over and over with the tip of his tongue.
"Oppa is too impatient. I have to take my time to serve you~" Jihyo looked up at the man, the mischievous meaning in hereyes was self-evident.
The man knew he could no longer resist such temptation. He let go of Jihyo's hair and let her suck between his legs. She was like a skilled musician, mastering the rhythm perfectly, sometimes deep throating, sometimes shallow swallowing, and occasionally licking and teasing key parts, causing him to reach the peak and then be pulled back to where he was.
"Jihyo...I can't do it anymore...please...please let me cum in your mouth..." The man's tone was full of pleading. Jihyo, however, seemed not to hear, still focused on her "playing", as if determined to drive him crazy.
Just when the man was about to collapse, Jihyo finally increased her speed and let the hard object thrust violently into her mouth. She felt it swelling and beating in the deepest part of her mouth, so she sucked harder...
Jihyo sucked the man's cock hard until it became thicker and harder in her mouth. The man also quickly reached the critical point under her ventriloquism. He held Jihyo's hair tightly with both hands and gasped: "Jihyo...I'm cumming...let me cum quickly..."
Jihyo raised her big watery eyes to look at him, and then worked harder to swallow the huge thing with bulging veins. The man couldn't help but thrust forward and pushed his cock into the deepest part of her mouth. The next second, streams of thick white liquid spurted out and poured into Jihyo's throat.
Jihyo swallowed all the man's semen and spit it out after the cock was slightly weakened. She wiped the white liquid from the corner of her mouth and smiled sweetly at the man: "Oppa's taste is so good~ I ate it all!"
The man lay on the bed, panting exhausted. He knew that he was so fascinated by this witch that he would reach climax in the mouth of a strange woman. But he didn't regret it, because the bliss that Jihyo gave him was something he had never experienced before. He couldn't help but stretched out his hand, wanting to touch her body again...
Jihyo grabbed the man's hand, put it on her bare shoulder and stroked it gently: "Oppa, do you want me?" Her voice was like the sound of nature, with fatal attraction. The man nodded subconsciously, and she took the initiative to sit on his crotch, using her already muddy lower body to rub against his renewed desire.
"Then let's do something more interesting, shall we?" Jihyo leaned down and stuck out the tip of his tongue to swirl around the man's ear.
Jihyo's lips and tongue wandered around the man's neck like a snake, leaving erotic marks one after another. Her slippery lower body also began to rub between his legs, as if she wanted to swallow more. The man only felt that his reason was about to collapse under her offensive.
"Oppa, what do you want me to do?" Jihyo raised her misty eyes and looked at him, "Do you want me to hold you in my mouth like before? Or do you want me to sit on you and use my pussy to love you?"
Jihyo looked at him with charming eyes and smiled softly: "Then what does Oppa want me to do?"
The man knew that he could no longer resist such temptation. He arched up under Jihyo and held her butt cheeks with both hands: "I want you...I want you to sit on top...please me with your body..."
Jihyo nodded with satisfaction, grabbed his already high-spirited clone, and sat down slowly. The man's moans immediately resounded throughout the room - he finally got his wish to possess this charming woman. Jihyo began to move her body up and down, letting the hot thing move in and out of her body.
"Ah... Jihyo... you're so tight..." The man grasped Jihyo's slender waist and lifted her waist step by step in response to her movements. Jihyo gasped softly, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being one with the man. "Do you like it, oppa? Do you like it when I use this place to please you?"
"I...like it...it feels so comfortable..." The man closed his eyes and raised his head, letting out short moans.
Jihyo rides on the man wildly, and every rise and fall will cause a more intense collision sound. Her vagina has been honed by her long-term training to be extremely tight. Whenever the man's penis penetrates deep into it, it always brings an ecstasy of pleasure. Jihyo couldn't help but twist her slender waist to allow herself to accept this fiery desire more deeply.
"Ah... oppa... so big..." Jihyo pressed her hands on the man's chest and began to move her body up and down faster. She felt like her pussy was about to be stretched open, but this feeling of fullness made her want to stop. Every time it went deep, the man's penis would hit her cervix, causing a numb shudder.
"Jihyo...slow down...you will tire us both out..." The man hugged Jihyo tightly, feeling like his strength was being drained by her. But Jihyo didn't seem to hear it and instead rode harder. Her breasts swayed with the movement, and the man couldn't help but reach out and hold them, kneading the soft breasts.
"Oppa, do you like it? Do you like me doing this to you?" Jihyo asked breathlessly, feeling that her climax was about to come. The man closed his eyes and nodded, holding Jihyo's slim waist with one hand and squeezing the two red spots on her chest with his other hand.
"Hmm... great... Jihyo is cumming..." Jihyo let out a sweet cry and collapsed into the man's arms. The man felt that his penis was being squeezed by her vagina and it became sore, knowing that she had also reached a climax.
After a while, Jihyo slowly opened her eyes. She leaned close to the man's ear and whispered softly: "Oppa, you were very comfortable just now, right? I will make you more comfortable... We still have a lot of time..."
Although Jihyo's climax gave him a certain degree of satisfaction, seeing the still longing look in her eyes, the man knew that he was not completely released. He turned Jihyo over, assumed the missionary position, and entered her deeply once again.
"Ah...brother..." Jihyo exclaimed, and she felt another hot giant thing in her body pushing into the pussy. The man began to thrust wildly, hitting the deepest point every time. He grabbed Jihyo's proud breasts with both hands and kneaded them into various shapes.
"Jihyo...your breasts are so tempting..." The man gasped, feeling like he was about to lose control. Jihyo deliberately moved her hips to meet his thrusts, as if to seduce him to treat her more roughly. The man couldn't help but increase the strength in his hands, even leaving red marks.
"Oppa... be gentle... my breasts will be damaged..." Jihyo protested with a gasp, but her body betrayed her words and instead catered to the man's movements. This aroused the man's sadistic desire even more. He lowered his head, opened his mouth wide, took one of Jihyo's breasts into his mouth, and sucked hard.
"Hmm... don't... it hurts..." Jihyo felt like her nipples were almost bitten off by him, but this mixture of pain and pleasure made her body more sensitive. She felt the man's cock getting harder and hotter inside her, and knew he was about to reach his peak.
"Oppa... cum with me..." Jihyo hugged the man's neck tightly and wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to penetrate deeper into her.
Jihyo clamped her legs tightly around the man's waist and pushed him deeper into her body again and again. She felt that his penis was getting harder and bigger, as if he was trying to fill her up. Under the leadership of Jihyo, the man continued to increase the speed and intensity. Every impact made her feel the pleasure of being hit.
"Oppa...faster...I want you..." Jihyo urged, feeling that she was on the verge of climax. The man seemed to have reached his limit. He grabbed Jihyo's buttocks with both hands and began to thrust hard like a beast.
"Jihyo...I'm cumming...You're pushing me too hard..." The man screamed, feeling that he was about to explode. Jihyo took the initiative to contract her vagina and bit his cock tightly.
"Oppar... cum inside me... I want to be with you..." Jihyo shook her butt, letting the entrance of her womb rub his manhood.
The man could no longer control himself. He grunted, his body beating violently inside Jihyo, and streams of thick white heat were continuously injected into her body. Jihyo also reached her climax. She arched her body, clutching the bed sheets with both hands, and her pussy was sucking the man's cock like spasms.
"Ah... Jihyo... you're so good at sucking..." the man growled, feeling that his semen was completely absorbed by her pussy. Jihyo lay on his chest and relaxed her legs, letting his clone stay inside her.”
It took some time for Jihyo to recover from the afterglow of orgasm. She felt that the man's clone was still buried in her body. Although it was no longer erect, it also proved how intense the stormy sex had been.
"Oppa...you are making me so tired..." Jihyo said coquettishly. She turned her head and kissed the man's cheek. The man smiled bitterly and kissed her back.
"It's because you are too tempting...I really can't resist..." the man said apologetically, and he pulled out his weak clone, which was stained with the body fluids of the two of them. Jihyo looked at the weapon that tortured her to death and couldn't help laughing.
"Oppa is so childish..." Jihyo stretched out her hand and held the man's clone. Even though it had softened, she could still feel the warmth in her palm. She worked it up and down slowly, and couldn't help but feel a little proud when she saw the penis gradually getting hard in her hands.
"Jihyo...what are you doing..." the man exclaimed, but was soon overwhelmed by the pleasure. Jihyo smiled but did not answer. She climbed on top of the man, straddled between his legs, then leaned down and swallowed the man's cock in one gulp.
"Hmm..." The man couldn't help but raised his head. He felt the pleasure of his body being wrapped in a warm mouth. Jihyo sucked for a while, then raised her head and looked at the man with a smile.
"Oppa, don't you want it...I will help you with my mouth..." Jihyo lowered her head again and concentrated on serving the man's clone. The man grabbed her hair, feeling his desire being aroused by her again.
Jihyo knelt between the man's legs, holding his waist with both hands, swallowing his cock. The tip of her tongue licked along every inch of the shaft, occasionally taking care of the sac underneath. The man felt so comfortable that he closed his eyes and allowed Jihyo to do whatever he wanted.
"Jihyo...slow down...I can't take it anymore..." the man gasped. He felt that his cock was so hard that it hurt and he might ejaculate again at any time. Jihyo sped up, her lips tightly wrapped around the clone, and every suck made the man gasp.
"Oppa... do you like this...?" Jihyo raised her head and asked with misty eyes. The man nodded and reached out to hold her head. Jihyo lowered her head again and swallowed the clone into his throat. Her skills were proficient and sophisticated, and she quickly pushed the man to the edge of climax.
"No way...I'm cumming..." The man covered Jihyo's head, involuntarily raised his waist, and inserted his penis deeply into her mouth. Jihyo sucked in cooperation until the man roared and ejaculated waves of thick semen into her mouth.
Jihyo swallowed most of the semen, but some spilled out of the corners of her lips. She looked up at the man and smiled with satisfaction. "Oppa tastes so good..." She licked the corners of her mouth, crawled to lie down next to the man, and put her arms around his waist.
"Jihyo...you are such a monster..." the man sighed, his body still sensitive to the attack of Jihyo's lips and tongue. Jihyo just smiled, knowing that she had complete control over this man, and that was exactly what she wanted.
Jihyo lay in the man's arms, feeling that her pussy was still empty. Although the sexual intercourse just now made her climax several times, her body still longed for more pleasure. Especially when she saw the man's weak clone, she was even more unable to extricate herself.
"Oppa..." Jihyo called out coquettishly, then stretched out her little hand and held the man's clone. Although he had softened, he still slowly responded to her caress.
"You little evil..." the man said helplessly, but he had no intention of refusing. On the contrary, he took the initiative to put the clone into Jihyo's hand. Jihyo smiled happily. She gently kneaded the man's balls, feeling them gradually enlarge and harden.
"Oppa, do you like me doing this?" Jihyo asked while playing with the man's clone. The man's breathing became heavier, and he closed his eyes to enjoy Jihyo's service. "Of course, I like it...your little mouth is so good at sucking..." the man gasped. He felt that his desire was ignited again, and the cock became energetic.
Jihyo saw the man's reaction and smiled with satisfaction. She let go, then turned around and knelt down facing the man's direction. She held the man's thigh with one hand, held the clone with the other, opened her red lips, and took the man's little brother into her mouth.
"Hmm..." The man moaned comfortably. He felt his body enter a hot, moist and tight place, where the soft flesh was constantly rubbing and squeezing the source of his desire. Jihyo swallowed, his tongue flexibly swirled around the tip, and he made "gurgling" sounds from time to time.
Jihyo knelt on the bed, with her back to the man, her hips raised high, forming a beautiful arc. The man's mouth went dry and his body became as hard as a rock. He stretched out his hand and patted Jihyo's snow-white buttocks, causing a tremor.
"Brother...what do you want to do..." Jihyo screamed in pain. She turned her head and looked at the man with a bright eyebrow. That endearing look made the man unable to hold back any longer. He rushed forward and eagerly spread her legs and aimed his penis at the already muddy little hole, insert it to the end with all his strength!
"Ah——!" Jihyo screamed. She felt that her vagina was filled to the brim with a thick and hot object. The feeling of filling made her feel so comfortable that she almost flew up. The man grabbed Jihyo's slim waist and began to thrust rapidly. Each stroke hit the deepest part of her body, bringing waves of ecstasy-inducing pleasure.
"Oppa...it's so deep...slow down..." Jihyo begged, but the man didn't slow down, and instead thrust harder and harder. Jihyo soon couldn't resist anymore. She screamed repeatedly and her whole body was trembling slightly. The man seemed to be stimulated by her reaction. He grabbed Jihyo's breasts with one hand, kneaded the sensitive nipples, and reached down with the other hand to find her engorged clitoris, rubbing it lightly and hard at times.
The triple stimulation brought Jihyo to climax quickly. She screamed and orgasmed, and her pussy was spasming and contracting continuously.
Jihyo was so fucked by the man that her reason had already left her, replaced by the most primitive instinctive desire. She just wanted more, faster, deeper thrusts. The man noticed her need. He increased his speed and fucked Jihyo's pussy with almost brutal force.
"Ah...ah...harder...deeper..." Jihyo yelled randomly, her fingers clasping the sheets tightly, and her lower abdomen involuntarily pushed up to meet the man's impact. The man grabbed her waist and pulled her back, raising her hips higher to facilitate his thrust.
"Jihyo...you are really my little whore..." the man gasped. He looked at the expression of the woman under him losing control due to his own impact, and felt a sense of accomplishment as a conqueror in his heart. But soon he discovered that his strength seemed to be gradually unable to keep up with Jihyo's needs.
"Oppa... don't stop... harder..." Jihyo urged, her waist kept twisting, hoping to get deeper and stronger stimulation. The man gritted his teeth and turned Jihyo over so that she lay flat on the bed. Then he pressed up with his whole body and buried his body deeply into her body. He thrust like crazy, hitting her sensitive spots every time.
"Ah...ah...Oppa...I'm going to die..." Jihyo screamed again and again. She felt that the pleasure in her body had reached its peak and was about to explode at any time. But the man had no intention of stopping. He fucked her harder, as if he wanted to penetrate her completely.
Jihyo was fucked so hard by the man that she lost consciousness. Her limbs were tightly wrapped around the man's body like an octopus, and her nails sank into his flesh unknowingly. The man felt that he was about to ejaculate, but he still pumped Jihyo's pussy relentlessly. He wanted her to reach the climax with him.
"Oppa... I can't do it anymore... Slow down..." Jihyo begged in tears, but the man turned a deaf ear. He just wanted to let Jihyo get the maximum pleasure. Finally, after a deep thrust, the man finally roared and released all his desires into Jihyo's body. At the same time, Jihyo also reached her climax. She screamed, her pussy convulsed, and a large amount of warm love juice moistened their joint.
After a long time, the man got up from Jihyo''s body. He saw Jihyo''s little face flushed, her eyes filled with water. The ravaged look made him feel unusually satisfied. However, at this moment, Jihyo suddenly sat up and grabbed the man's wrist.
"Brother...I still want..." Jihyo's tone was a little hoarse, but the desire in her eyes was clear. The man was stunned. He originally thought that Zhi Huo should be fucked to death by him, but he didn't expect that she still wanted it? !
"But Oppa... I still want your cock in my pussy..." Jihyo hugged the man's neck and licked his ear with the tip of her tongue. The provocative action made the man react immediately.
"You little devil..." the man said through gritted teeth. His lower body became hard again and pressed against Jihyo's soft body. "Since you want it so much, then let’s do it. But this time, I can't let you off easily."
The man pushed Jihyo down on the bed, raised her legs and opened them to the maximum angle, and then inserted his cock deeply into her in one breath. "Ah~" Jihyo couldn't help but exclaimed. She had just experienced a fierce orgasm, and now she was experiencing a new round of impact. She felt like a small boat, rising and falling on the sea with the wind and waves, which may capsize at any time.
The man didn't care about Jihyo's feelings at all, he just thrust fiercely, as if he wanted to penetrate her completely. Jihyo could only hold on to the sheets tightly and endure the violent impact. "Oppa... be gentle... I won't be able to bear it..." She begged with a tearful voice, but the man couldn't listen at all. He even started to get harder, pinching her nipples and pulling and rotating them hard.
"Ugh...no...it's very sensitive there..." Jihyo felt a burst of electricity from her chest spread throughout her body, and her pussy became tighter and moister. She knew that she could no longer control her body's reaction and could only let the man do whatever he wanted.
The man felt the change in Jihyo, and he knew that she had once again indulged in the sea of ​​sensuality. He took advantage of the situation and lowered his head to kiss her lips. His tongue penetrated her mouth and played with it wantonly. Jihyo was so ecstatic by his kiss that she kissed the man back obliviously, swallowing every inch of the sweet fluid he sent her.
Just when the two of them were immersed in the passionate kiss, the man suddenly let go of Jihyo's lips and kissed her ears, neck and shoulders. He placed frivolous kiss marks on her sensitive skin, each time eliciting unbearable moans from Jihyo.
" Jihyo..." The man whispered her name, his breathing already somewhat disordered. "You know, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I have always wanted to have you, and today I finally got my wish. I will always love you and never leave you."
Jihyo didn't react at all to the man's confession. All she could think about at the moment was how to get the man to enter her body again and bring her more pleasure. But she didn't want to ask directly, so she had to pretend to be touched, hugged the man's neck, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"Oppa... I like you too... I will always be by your side..." Jihyo said coquettishly, her hand sliding to the man's crotch and stroking his erect penis again.
The man was indeed pleased by her words. He happily picked up Jihyo, pressed her on the bed, and took possession of her again.
Jihyo soon became addicted to having sex with the man. She actively catered to his impact and moaned wildly. But she knew in her heart that she had no real feelings for the man in front of her. She only said those words deliberately to please him in order to satisfy her own desires.
But at this moment, Jihyo couldn't care less. She just wanted to enjoy this ridiculous sex feast. The man's power seemed to have no end. He thrust in and out of her like a never-ending machine, reaching the deepest point with every thrust. Jihyo's pussy was sore and numb from his rubbing, but it was more of a pleasant pleasure.
"Oppa...you are so awesome...I love you so much..." Jihyo murmured nonsense, her hands caressing the man's back and arms. The man looked at her intoxicated expression, and his desire to conquer was greatly satisfied.
"Jihyo... Me too... I will always treat you like this..." The man increased his speed and hit Jihyo's sensitive spots hard. Jihyo couldn't hold it back any longer, she screamed loudly and reached her climax, her core tightening around the man's cock.
After a long time, the two finally ended the intense sexual intercourse. Jihyo was lying on the bed, dripping with sweat all over her body, looking at the ceiling absentmindedly. She knew that such a relationship was destined to not last long, but she didn't care at the moment, she just wanted to chase a moment of happiness.
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Cocky - Gojo Satoru
cw: smut
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You hated cocky men, usually because their sense of self confidence or misguided arrogance always left more to be perceived. But when you meet Satoru, that perspective shifts. He was cocky in his own right. He was perfect to the naked eye but, you could never let him know because surely it would go to his head. You didn’t need to tell him though, as he owns the thin line where charisma and cockiness meet. 
Your eyes speak enough words when you meet for a kiss. Firm and assertive, the way his strong arms envelope you. Lips soft against each other, moving in a rhythm that felt natural but still hungry. Both of you, competing for dominance as your tongues dance in unison. His hands explore every dip and crevice of your body, studying it, learning everything that makes you tingle and writhe beneath his touch and he in fact is a fast learner.
As much as you didn’t want to give in to him. He was good, maybe even too good. Kisses against your collarbone leading up into the crook of your neck had you like putty in his hands. An adorable smirk against his red flushed lips, uttering soft whispers of praises into your ear. He was irresistible. Before you realize, he had you between him and his sheets. Limbs wrapped around him as your hands made their way to his hair with the urge to remove the blindfold he always wore. One swift motion and you are met with his crystal eyes. You were doomed. 
You weren’t the only one falling though. To him you were irresistible, he could barely contain himself. Your scent, the way you moaned, the looks you gave him were all driving him insane. He removes your bra with ease, cold hands sliding up your bare body, he cups your breasts. Thumbs brushing over the already stiff buds, a shiver taking over your body. He leans his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth with a soft moan, his other hand coming to massage the other. 
Your back arches at the sudden contact, eyes shut closed as he continues to suck and nibble at your nipples. Hands still kneading at the soft flesh. The delicious contrast of sensations forces you to moan his name. He hums in appreciation as you feel a smirk forming against your hot skin. “You like that don’t you?” he teases, his mouth coming off your nipple. His voice is like silk, smooth and sultry. “Just wait until I go lower…” he whispers once again. 
“Toru…s’ toru..”
His name was like a chant escaping your lips as his face was buried between your velvety thighs. The way he dropped to his knees to please you, eager to taste you, you didn’t know you could get even more aroused than you already were. Satoru could’ve sworn you had him under some type of incantation the way he was lapping at your cunt. Skilled tongue flicking over your clit, long fingers sliding in and out of you. 
A whine escapes from his mouth as you tug on his soft white locks. The vibrations of his moans send jolts of pleasure throughout your body. You didn’t know someone could derive this much pleasure for himself from pleasing you. His arousal was evident as he pressed himself against the bed, in dire need of some friction. To relieve the ache in his cock, that you caused. He was impatient. His free hand coming up to unbutton his jeans, he tugged down his boxers finally releasing his hard on. It took you a moment to realize what he was doing. Stroking himself as he continued to eat you out. The sight was lude but so hot. Your back arched again and you knew you were so close. 
He knew you were close too. He knew from the way your cunt throbbed, the way he had to use his free hand to hold your legs open so they wouldn’t close around his head, the way your hands gripped the soft sheets under you. Whine after whine, moan after moan, both of you reach the epitome of pleasure. Satoru continues to lick and tease you as you ride out your high, savoring every drop that you give him. 
“You taste like heaven..”
A grin appears on his lips as he praises you. He comes to meet your lips again, pressing himself on top of you. 
“What else do you want me to do?” 
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Note
What if Art donaldson wouldn't let reader break up with him and he just started to overly affectionate begging them to stay.
pls he's such a loser. need him like yesterday.
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"Art, please."
Your plea fell on deaf ears as Art's lips continued trailing kisses up the expanse of your arm. The feeling of his lips so softly meeting your skin nearly made you sob. His mouth was on the inside of your elbow when you placed your right hand on the side of his face, trying to get him to atleast look at you.
Instead, he kissed your open palm, taking your wrist in his hand before detouring, now trailing kisses up your right arm. You sighed, defeated and growing frustrated. His arms wrapped around your body as his mouth moved up your arm, placing a kiss to your shoulder before his head dipped down to the dip between your neck and your shoulder.
"Please, Art," you half whined, placing your hands on his shoulders to try and pull him away, but your arms just couldn't find the strength to do so. He pulled away from your neck abruptly, making you jump a little. "You're crazy If you think I'll just throw everything away," he said, voice so soft you almost missed the anger laced in his words.
Your hands moved up from his shoulders to the sides of his face, keening at the look on his face. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you felt like the worse person on earth.
"We're drifting apart," you reasoned, your thumbs softly rubbing over the apples of his cheeks. His hands gripped both your wrists, preventing you from moving away as his face nuzzled into your left palm, kissing the skin. "We can find each other again," he countered, words muffled in your palm. You sighed at his stubbornness, pulling your hands from his face. You didn't get far, the grip he still had on your wrists tightening slightly as he brought your hands to his mouth, kissing over the knuckles of your balled fists.
"It's a dead end," you whispered, the words physically hurting your chest as you tried, and failed to keep your tears at bay. They now sat shallow in your eyes, waiting for your next cruel statement to break the dam. "You can't say that," he said, "please don't say that."
"Art—"
"I'm begging you," he interrupted you. His hands dropping yours in favor of holding your face the same way you had held his not too long ago. "I need you," he said with a kiss to your forehead. "I can't do any of this without you," he spoke against your forehead, voice breaking as he felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks. The thought of you leaving alone made his heart and chest clench painfully.
"I know we can find each other again," he said, pulling away to look you in the eyes. "Can we try," he asked, "please?"
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joostcafe · 2 days
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So kiss me. | joost klein x fem!reader
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Summary: Getting ready for a Halloween party with Joost is not easy, especially when he can’t stop kissing you.
Warnings: Pure fluff, kissing, a couple swear words.
A/N: I just really miss Halloween… requests are very much open!!!!
— now playing! ♫ kiss me | sixpence none the richer —
“Stop fussing.” You said, spreading white face paint onto joost’s cheeks.
His eyes squeezed shut, as he held onto your thighs for dear life. “It’s cold.”
“I’m almost done, promise.” You reassure him, gently patting his chest with your other hand.
His mouth drops before letting out a soft laugh, “You just started, leugenaar!” — and liar you were.
He attempted to lay down onto his bed before you snatched him back up, giving him a peck on the lips.
The smug look on his face made you believe it would make him sit still.
He smiled once more, the smile you loved so dearly. The way his eyes disappeared beneath his cheeks, showing all of his teeth.
You continued, carefully applying the paint to the rest of his face as he sat there, staring up at you with gleaming puppy eyes.
“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled.
You can’t help but look away after locking eyes with him. He still made you nervous, even after sitting on his lap for a while.
He hugged your waist, now pulling you towards him. You grabbed his face with one hand and made your way up to his hair.
Not even a second later he leaned to kiss you once more, and you could feel him smile once again.
“We’re going to be late Joost.” You said, pulling away and fixing his hair — which you previously ruined.
He sighed and wiped some white paint off from your face. “I can’t kiss my beautiful girlfriend? You know, we can just stay home and watch scary movies.”
You and him loved home dates better than going out to parties, since you both got overwhelmed very fast in big crowds. So that actually sounded pretty fucking amazing.
You lingered for a moment before grabbing another color beside you. “Your friends will get mad, you know how they are.”
“Fuck my friends.” He replied, which he didn’t actually mean of course. “They can survive the night without us.”
You smiled and kissed him yet again, this time a little deeper.
“Sweetheart.” He managed to get out, “I don’t want your talents to go to waste.”
You laughed, grabbing the nearest makeup brush. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
Holding onto his neck, you painted the remaining clown features onto his face.
Your focus and determination was cute to him, the way you would slightly stick out your tongue when it came to drawing a sharp line. When you would stop to admire him and plant a few kisses on his neck to avoid making a mess. It was too much for him in fact, he was so in love with you.
“I think i’m done.” You said, giving him a small hand mirror.
“Wowww.” He dragged on with an exaggerated voice, “I really love it.”
You try to fix his hair once more as he grabbed a red lipstick from your bag, “May I?”
You grin slightly, getting closer to him.
He opens the tube before inspecting it. Then he swipes it gently on your lips, making sure he’s not messing it up.
“There.” He whispered.
You carefully rub your lips together before looking at yourself. “I’m impressed.”
He then points to his cheek, asking for a kiss.
You obviously weren’t gonna deny him, even if you thought he had enough for tonight — he never had enough of your kisses.
You kissed him once.
Then twice on the other cheek.
One on his forehead just because.
And a million more all around his face.
“You’re too good to me my love.” He replied.
You wrapped your arms around him, “Hey, i’m the lucky one here.”
— And after many long kisses, you spent the rest of the night cuddled up with each other, watching horror movies and eating halloween candy.
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44st4rs · 3 days
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SORCERER DRIVE!
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༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ PAIRINGSؘ: Pervert Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WORD COUNT: 12.2k
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ CW: dubcon, noncon voyeurism, perverted themes, teasing, exhibtionism, groping, male masturbation, use of sex toy, talks of wet dreams, phone sex, implied voice kink, oral(f & m receiving) fingering, heavy clit play, slight themes of possessiveness (gojo just really wants you) public sex, multiple orgasms, begging, pussydrunk!Gojo, couch sex, pussywhipped!Gojo, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄XOXO, CHRIS: It’s finally here :))) Literally so proud of this fic. I put aside all my other wips for this and God, I’m just so excited to share it with you guys :P
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WANT MORE?ؘ 
pt. 2 ft. Toji (TBD)
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Sorcerer Drive.
It’s a quiet neighborhood away from the buzz of the city, casted away by freshly cut grass, swaying trees, and a piece of mind. The suburban street holds twelve pristine homes—no more and no less. Some of these homes hold couples, families, and even singles; all escaping from the hectic life of the city. Its occupants aren’t what many would call typical however, each life sharing in its vibrancy.
Sorcerer Drive is also home to one Gojo Satoru, the twenty-eight-year-old man of unhinged transparency. He’s kind, open with his home, his heart—and his intentions. He’s persistent, a little too persistent to get exactly what he wants. His signature ruse of soft words and sly manners are all cause for harm, stringing along one too many housewives during the days he had off.
He knows it’s wrong to invade but it’s the attention he seeks, longing to fill some hole in his iron-clad heart. Every woman he sets his eyes on can never really commit to Gojo, some wary of his hidden natures. His sought-out success is usually foiled by the first date, ruined by a degrading facet he can’t repress all that well. It’s unfitting for a man like him to act in such a way, unable to subdue his perverse ways.
As far as Gojo’s aware, he’s always been like this, falling apart in the presence of women. He can’t help it, the desire that sits deep within his belly. There’s something about a woman that throws all of Gojo’s coherency out the window and pulls his insatiability to mind. He’s dangerously in love with every quality of those who tease his eye. He can’t go without wondering how his latest muse would look beneath him.
Even in his neighborhood, his perverted tendencies still bled through his new persona. He’d stare at whatever crossed his way—the tops of breasts jiggling during the morning runs of the housewives, snapping pictures of the many panties slips creeping out from the shortest of dresses at cookouts, even shamelessly ogling at how the wives shower their husbands in kisses.
Block parties were his favorite, he’s cocky with the husbands but flirty with the housewives. He knows all the tricks to pull, what to say, where to touch playfully, just to simply chase some fleeting attention for those around him—solely to end with him gaining yet another enemy.
Yet, in the three years he’s lived in the quiet neighborhood, Gojo’s never known what the company of a woman can do for him. None have ever been welcoming of his antics, both bold and suggestive. He only thrives off what surrounds him, gathering his collective moments of joy.
And it’s been that tragic cycle for as long as he’s known…until fate pulled on his tattered string.
There’s a house before his own, a shade of a pretty blue with its complements of white. And for as long as Gojo’s lived on the street, it’s never known the feeling of holding life. However, it wasn’t until just a few days ago that the desperate call for company was answered, the pitted sale sign finally freed from its staked prison.
Upon sight of the sign’s removal, Gojo’s imagination hasn’t found rest. He could begin to think of who his mystery neighbor could be—though, he hoped for a beautiful woman without the strings of a relationship or a family. He hoped for someone who was free for bonds of a family, could take in him for all he was, perfections and flaws alike.
Even now, he’s found himself whisked into the fantasy world of his living room window, watching the gathering clutter of brown boxes on the lawn of the neighboring house. Why, Gojo’s bubbling with an excitement so rich, he’s abandoned the breakfast he’s worked so hard to prepare. The icy hues of his eyes linger along every corner of the opposing house’s window, desperate to gain some insight into his soon-to-be acquaintance.
It’s almost unlike Gojo to express such childish whimsy, his fair skin roused with a cherry bliss. The highs of his cheeks and ears share in the same reality, dusted in its whimsical pink glow. The trilling giggles roll from his tongue, warming the air in its purity. He’s never found himself in such a state as this one, unsure of what really brews in the back of his mind.
He knows it’s something. It could be the joy of having a new face in the neighborhood, one who has yet to learn of his true natures. It could be the mystery clouding around said face, though he prays it’s the woman of his dreams. Needless to say, his reaction is a mindless one, the spill of words riddled with the confusion of intrigue and lust.
“God, I think I’m in love!”
A strained groan cuts through the air, Gojo’s uttering met with his own resistance. He’s reluctant to give into himself but can’t find anything to do except that. There’s a chance that his inspiring thoughts could be for naught, only to be met with the harsh reality awaiting him. The thick digits of his hand strum through the pure white locks of his hair, paired with a fatal sigh breaking the air.
Whether he is right or wrong. Gojo knows he alone stands in the way of discovering the truth. It’s because of that realization that he can swallow down his nerves—and pride—to make the first move in the unofficial game of cat and mouse, peeling away from his kitchen window and slipping out through his back door.
That lone thought fuels him, knowing that has to uncover the mystery before anyone else gets their hands on his muse. Gojo simply had to make the first impression, gathering his abundance of confidence to stroll through his front door, large hands sinking deep into the pockets of his navy slacks.
Dizziness dots his sights with patchy stars and all Gojo can do is bear the grave thumps of his heart clogging his sanities. “So much for that dopey build of confidence, huh Satoru?” the sole muttering to pass through Gojo’s lips as the fog of doubt doubles in its weight.
It’s the possibility that his hopes could be shattered upon the reveal of who now dons the title of his neighbor. He knows his whims can’t manifest into the woman of his dream but maybe the universe can smile down on him just this once…right?
Gojo peels his hands from his pockets, allowing for the pad of his digit to linger over the small button of a doorbell for a moment. He’s already come so far for second thought, being overwhelmed by the sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourishing all too well in his veins. The pearly whites of his teeth sink into the plush of his lips as he takes in a final breath, his finger pressing gently against the doorbell.
In a matter of seconds, the white door rips open from its post, revealing to Gojo a sight for sore eyes. It’s a dream turned into reality as the door rips from its post, all of his whims manifesting before his blown eyes.
Gojo’s breathing it all in, the woman leaning against the door’s frame with an arm braced for balance. He can’t begin to comprehend his thoughts, the composure he’s lost within moments gone to the wind. The heavy thumps of his heart chime at his ears once more the longer Gojo stares at your disinterest, a frigid wash of nerves licking across his skin.
There’s uncaringness riddled in the hues of your eyes—— the annoyance of interruption bleeding through to your spoken words.
“Listen, for the last time, I just moved here. I don’t wanna sign up for the—oh…hello there.”
Gojo’s still stifled in his thoughts, the presence of you rendering him numb. He had yet to speak without removing his eyes from you, scanning down the luscious curves hidden beneath the silk black robe. He clings to a scene quite particular in his favor,  the supple mounds of your cleavage spilling from the robe.
“Um…,” your tone soaked in tender concern, eyelids narrowing in sight at the stricken man, “You look a little red in the face, sir. Are you okay, do you need some water or–”
The sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourish all too well in his veins as Gojo’s hand rushes to cut the air, the brash attempt to hold contact with you.
“I’m Gojo Satoru, 28 years old and I live right there, across the street…from…you!” His cherry-tipped ears are met with the delight of a giggle, your soft palm slipping into his own.
“Nice to meet you, Gojo. I’m Y/N! Call me your new neighbor!”
Gojo nods at your words, battling his snowflake-like lashes. He’s managed to pull you into a senseless conversation about the neighborhood, linked hands losing their strength. Your burning questions should matter to him, but Gojo’s too enthralled at serving his palm passing glances, the tingling warmth dancing about his skin.
“Fuck, can’t wait to see if her hand’s this soft ‘round me. S’ soft and warm, just squeezing at every inch of me,” Gojo’s unfiltered thoughts wandering to unreached highs.
It’s lewd in the way Gojo thinks, his mind far more deranged than what he’s led to believe. A switch flicks in his brain, his pervasive tendencies edging to ruin what facade he’s worked so hard to withhold. He’s seconds into a cliché trial of small talk, but can’t ignore how puffy your lips get when his words pull a giggle from your chest, or how your fingers rattled along the frame mindlessly.
It has him pondering—imagining—how puffy your lips could become against his own, smothered in a mess of spit and sparse bites. His cock thumps at the lewd thought, hoping that one day your thumb would work the same mindless pattern along his blushed head as you do to the wooden frame.
And he has yet to address the way your legs cross in your leaned stance, his thoughts hinged on the bundle of warmth residing between the chub of your inner thighs. He, your robe highlighting the little bow of your panties imprinting itself through the thin robe. One wrong move and he’ll see it all, the fat lips of your cunt just barely fitted behind pesky sheets of fabric.
Yet he’s so desperate to maintain the peace that Gojo has no choice but to shed his immoral self, his laggard breaths setting onto a steady pace. A subtle shake of his head is all it takes for what moments he can get, following his way back into the closing conversation.
“Well, I hope to see you around, Gojo.”
Maddening is the only thing fit to describe Gojo’s state, desperately searching to earn a minute more of his presence. He simply couldn’t return home, at least not yet. How could he willingly turn back knowing that you—the woman of his dreams—existed within fifteen feet of his reach? He had to find a way to entrap you, ensure that he’d be the only man to ever enter the temple of your home.
“W-Wait! If you ever—and I mean ever— need me for an extra pair of hands, I’m right here…unless your husband isn’t okay with that?”
“Oh, that’s not gonna be possible…considering that I’ve been divorced for the past two years. But since you’re offering, I’ll call on you!”
Before the moment can end, Gojo digs into his back pocket, pulling his phone out as another conversational segway.
“Can I get your number then? Makes it easier for both you and me.”
Gojo watches as you take the phone from him, thumbs typing away at the ten digits needed. He studies the focus that shrouds your features, imprinting every detail he can take. The gentle coo of your voice breaks his concentration, does eyes of a frigid blue falling in line with you.
“Here you go, hopefully, you’ll get a call soon…Gojo.”
All you do is give Gojo a giddy smile as you place the device back into his palm, before waving goodbye, bringing the door in delayed haste. You don’t know what you’ve done by revealing that detail to Gojo, the man stiff with an impressional glee.
The limited interaction plagues Gojo’s mind for the day’s remainder, the evening rolling around through his feverish daze. It’s been ensnared in his brain longer than he’s anticipated, his lewd thoughts following him into the night’s shower.
Water droplets bloom against his skin, washing away the snowy suds of soap and a sliver of his day’s sins. Gojo believed he had a handle on himself as he showered—until the white noise of silence leads his troubled mind to stray. He can’t get over how perfect you are, your smile, your voice, down to how the robe just barely protected you from him. He’d be lying if he didn’t want to see more, remembering how his digits twitch with the absurdity to strip your body down to the beauty of bare skin.
It’s such a thought that Gojo couldn’t help himself, his cock strained with a painful urge. Each droplet of the showerhead’s water struck him heavier than the last. The whimpers that rip from his chest are nothing short of chilling disgust. He didn’t want to lace his shaky hand around the thick tip, sealing the spry nerves in an etching fist.
His need for release has him so weak, his body trusting the brace of his forehead against the gray tile. He can’t ignore the ghastly sensitivity his body is forced to endure. From the building steam clouding his tiled chamber, his robust shower gel slicking him a cold sheen, he’s nearly crumbled beneath his own mundane actions.
Did you have to dress so freely, innocently provoking the hellish terror residing deep inside Gojo’s stomach. The pulling gush has yet to suspend, its heat swelling at his balls. He can feel the bloat of cum growing heavier than he’s ever bared.
That’s why Gojo brings his eyes to a close, filthy scenes obscuring his mind with images of you naked on his bed. He can see everything so clearly it’s utterly shameful—those legs of yours parted just for him, dainty fingers working hard at the cute bulb of your clit. Gentle, soft enough to coax shivering pretty moans from your chest. Gojo’s mentally noting how your touch trails between your folds to your glossy slit, two fingers barely fitting inside.
The tips of his digits tease the inflamed head of his cock with whispy swipes, foamy bubbles of pre trickling past his worked knuckles. Yet the crippling sensation isn’t enough for Gojo, bringing the full brute of his strength to strum about his cock. He doesn’t even have time to admire how his veins rise to meet his touch, the overwhelming rush of blood causing his head to spin.
“Just like that, k-keep going,—fuck, you’re so tight!”
He’s hung on the sight of you, weakened hips hoisting into the air with the swift delves of your fingers scarcely stretching your slit. There’s no comparison in his mind, knowing that your digits could never reach as deep as his cock could. You’re just barely scratching the surface of your body as far as he believes, leaving so much untouched yet so much to be discovered. He can almost hear you too, his mind conjuring the sweetest coos he has but to indulge.  
At that alone, Gojo’s body falls into a shuddering hunch, his back folding at the breathless stir in his lungs. His slender hand lays waste to his poor cock, careless strides roaming from base to tip. To Gojo’s demise, it’s all in vain. He can’t handle the recoils of his strokes, the insufferable drag towards the bed of messy white hair freeing breathless moans from his chest. Even the force he strived to maintain shattered in his hands, bare thighs bearing the rippling waves stinging at his balls.
“You’re gonna keep playing with that pretty pussy fr’ me, right? I—fuck—need you to, Baby…‘m so close!”
His precum’s sticky when it spreads further across the expanse of his cock, the vile squelches echoing in his ear. He only seems to be growing more within his hand, bigger, thicker, and farther from his envied high.
“Fuckfuckfuck, I wanna cum for you, Y/N! S’ bad! Wanna watch it drip everywhere, your tits, cute funny, all over your pussy! I j-just wann—“
The rushing spill of white rinses over Gojo’s hand, the beads of water rising away his sins. Through the huffs of his emptied lungs, he stands in dismay, watching every drop wither into the abyss of nothing. His hand softly smacks the wall of the shower, quivering lips muttering his final thoughts.
“You weren’t supposed to waste it, Princess. All my hard work…gone like that.”
Regret sets in as a sigh empties from Gojo’s chest, his weary hand turning the shiny valve. The water’s suspension seals the last of his misfortune, the man returning to reality when he steps from the glass chamber. Disgust doesn’t resonate with Gojo as he peers into his mirror, imprints of steam drifting across the glass. It’s a passing glance but one he’s dangerously proud of amidst strolling towards his dimmed bedroom.
His digits reach for the towels he’s laid across the mahogany duvets, the contrasting fibers grazing across his skin. Gojo’s inches from it before a sight like no other catches his greedy eye, eyelids parting in pure shock.
To his unfortunate luck, the windows of his bedroom peer straight into yours—one free of any coverage as of now.
It’s a sight he knows he’s too blessed for, your body sheathed in the plush towel of white. It’s clingy, hinged on every curve of your figure. A squint is forced upon Gojo as he focuses on you, watching the faint sheet of fluff unravel at a single tug. Lust consumes him, clouded hues gawking at the plump swells of your chest and the curves of your physique, all set in his untimely direction.
Gojo’s hand settles over his chest, hardened pads drifting down to his flittering abs. He can’t believe it, how dumb you could be to allow a man like him to gaze at the divine physique of your body. A feeble pry claws at Gojo’s fading will, pulling him to fall onto his bed.
He gives you one final glance before whimpering out his distressing plea.
“Look at you, so close but so far…’nd you’re so perfect.”
His hand slips into the top drawer of his bedside, the shameful shell of his beloved pocket pussy falling into his grasp. Was it wrong of Gojo to get off to his explicit thought once more? Even going as far as to use what scene he had of you for entertainment?
Why...of course not.
His digits race to greet his mouth, the makeshift cup pooling with his spit. All it takes is a single rushed stroke to coat his length in the threaded gloss, eagerly nuzzling the slit of the toy over his own.
He’s swift to feed the growing impatience, pulling the toy to loosely hang around the tip of his cock. Sensitivity aided in his hand, the stings of the recent orgasm lingering at the forefront of his brain. Everything’s still clouded to Gojo, the blinding pulls along his girth to bring him to the present.
It soon became a harsh pill to swallow, that pit in his stomach deepening. He’s studying how the toy’s lips spread around his cock, the scene shrouding a haze of disgust over him.  It’s nothing as he wishes it to be, no warmth, no gush, no heavenly moans begging for him to slow down. The feeling’s merely sinking deeper in Gojo’s mind, his body falling flat onto the bed at last.
“S-Shit…it’s not tight enough—fuck!”
His grip couldn’t afford to be any more endearing, his throbbing cock engulfed in a numbing squeeze. In truth, Gojo wasn’t sure what he was so desperate for, giving aim to an unsure goal. His hand could squeeze, swivel, and pull at his shaft all they wanted, but nothing can ever compare to the anticipation of having you clamped around him, struggling to take each fattened inch. He has yet to comprehend what has his hips jolting to meet the toy’s sad excuse for a cervix, or why his lust for you brought along gravitating rivers of sweat to lave across his scorned body.
“I-I can’t even– it’s no good, ‘m not gonna cum when the real thing is right there,” the summoning of Gojo’s desperate call to awaken. He’s aggravated with urgency, anxious to cum, but all the while, can’t commit to chasing the sweet high. The wretched pocket pussy gets paid a mere gaze, only to be ripped off his twitching cock with strings of glimmering precum in tow.
He wants to be the bigger person, to shut his own blinds out of respect...then again, Gojo isn’t that kind in both morals or character. Laying in his own misery, he stole a few gaps at you, grinning at how the night’s attire of a white tank and pink panties suited you best.
Amidst his gaudy oglings, sleep edges at his mind as heavy eyelids follow in the sun’s setting path. Gojo giggles to himself before mouthing off once more, ensuring that his mischievous dreams, and desires would soon manifest in his hands.
“Pray for the day I get my hands on you, Y/N. I swear I’m never letting go.”
Those words loom over Gojo’s head for the duration of the week, serving as a reminder to him. Why, he has to be on his best behavior for you, pitting all his perverted mannerisms to rot. During the day, he catches you on your daily expedition to the mailbox for idle chatter. It’s a fleeting few minutes but Gojo learns more and more about you. Within the days he’s caught your attention, he’s learned about your occupation, your favorite foods, and films.
He’s saving all these trivial exchanges for a certain day—like today— for when Gojo crosses your path again, a day written by the Gods themselves.
Since he had the chance to meet you, Gojo’s thoughts have revolved around you and only you. Your smile, your laugh, the way your nose scrunches while deep in thought—all of it, Gojo’s been hung up on. His days are spent on you, thoughts and imagination dedicated to you and you alone. He can’t help but reminisce on the minutes he’d spend with you, the mere trade of words igniting a hidden facet in his heart.
He’s unsure of what to call it, the very thing that hinders his day-to-day life as of late. He’s too intrigued to call it a crush but wouldn’t dare tread the lines of obsession. It’s a conflicting matter for one such as him, one that tests every fiber in Gojo’s being. 
He’s never been so attentive to someone other than himself before, his interest in you surpassing the field of lust alone. He can spend hours just thinking about you, how you smiled at him the first time with such care, how you made him melt beneath your gaze.
He isn’t one to form connections, attachment never did serve the man well. Though, at the face of your arrival to the neighborhood, Gojo’s once paraded lifestyle now hints at the inevitable downfall. He’s suddenly frantic for your attention, yet shied away from his sprouts of self-doubt. He’s afraid to admit just how much he wants you, to have you around him at every waking moment.
For now, he resorts to the method he knows best, taking to his living room window to catch every rare appearance you’d make. Whether it be you walking down to the mailbox, discarding the next round of moving boxes, or simply stepping out to watch the sunset, Gojo sought to capture it all.
But today brings its own fruits of bliss, providing Gojo with the hand-delivered game of chance. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you hoisting the next batch of trash out to the front lawn.
Yet, there’s something different in him, Gojo pinned to his favorite place amongst his living room window. Sure, he’s observing as you drag the next ensemble of boxes behind your heels, but that’s not what has his attention piqued.
He should be used to it by now, all the short outfits you’ve flaunted to the outside world. But nothing could compare to the pure lamb white tank and matching skirt adorning your curves. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from the cute pout breaks across your visage. 
A furrowed brow, lips fostering a glossy pout and puffy cheeks limp with fatigue all entice Gojo to lengths even he can’t comprehend. He can tell you need some guidance, someone to tell you where to go from there.
Gojo’s more inclined to stand to his feet now, strolling to his front door once again. The sweep of deja vu settles onto him is chilling, the same cycle of steps repeating themselves. Just like the day he’d recognized your presence, Gojo can’t do anything but approach you with careful steps.
He’s brought to the scene in the lewdest of ways—you bent over the growing batch of folded cardboard. It doesn’t help that his ear picks up on every feeble whimper that escapes from your mouth, the clear frustration written in your voice. He is undoubtedly without shame as his gaze graces your body, grinning at how your panties tease past the edge of your skirt.
You’re so cute like this, too caught up in your own little world to notice Gojo’s staggering build towering behind you. He could stay like this forever, watching as you continuously shift through the clutter.
As pure as it’s intended, sin never lurks too far when it comes to Gojo. His hands slip into his pockets without delay, stretching the fabric of his navy slacks to conceal the growing bulge. It’s not his fault your skirt falls so short of you, but he isn’t one to complain either. The sight only triggers that devious side of him, firing all sorts of thoughts to cloud his tainted brain.
Gojo knows he can’t get ahead of himself, not when he still has to maintain his fragile impression around you. All it takes for a single huff of air to crowd Gojo’s lungs for him to speak at last, the spiteful smirk embedded behind his words.
“Quite the mess you’ve got here. The recycling truck only comes once every other week, y’know.”
The bit of insight he offers is enough to pull your attention elsewhere, your head whipping around to meet his lidded regards.
“Oh, hi Gojo! I know, right?! It’s even more of a mess inside too!”
Gojo takes the chance to close the distance, leaning over your hunched form gradually. His head falls into a timely tilt, allowing him to breathe in the shift in nature befalling you. Suddenly, ripples of blinks overtake your eyelids, lips faltering to hold fast to the pretty pout. He seals your brash flusters with the soft hum of his voice, the warmth of his breath fanning across the tip of your nose.
“Well…aren’t you gonna ask me for help? I do remember saying I’d be here to give you an extra pair of hands for all your…problems.”
There’s a silence falling amongst you both, the eyes of you two falling into a blurred line. Gojo’d be lying if he said he didn’t succumb to you too, the exterior of smug pride crumbling with each second. Sure, Gojo has you stifled in your steps, forced to endure the sweltering heat of his stare—but he’s the one that suffers in the end. Waves of heat strum throughout his body, laying claim to the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. His chest lags in the slightest of breaths, the uneven pace coming to light.
His ears perk at the aimless whimpers spilling from your mouth, ensuring that your body shares in the same symptoms—uneased breaths, flares of heat, and uncertainty pitted deep within your belly. He wants to reach out, hoping his hand could bring you down from the fluttering gates of nirvana. It takes for the tiny squeak of your voice’s inquiry to break the fallen silence.
“Can you…help me fix the inside…please? I’d appreciate it so much!”
“ ‘Course I will! Just lead the way, beautiful!”
You offer Gojo a pleasant nod before turning from him, dainty hands clutching at your chest. Within a matter of moments, he’d so easily brought you to your knees. From his sly grin, his overwhelming allure, down to the very way he seems to keep a specific look for you, Gojo could just as easily have you wrapped around his finger should he say the words.
“Over there, I need the most help in the kitchen,” your hand pointing in the appropriate direction as you close the door behind him.
Gojo encounters your sights for a brief moment more, a toothy grin spreading itself thin as he explores your home. Finally, he has you to himself, free from any wandering eyes to be found along the block.
“It’s nice in here, Y/N. I see you like the finer things, just something else we have in common.”
“Thanks, but wait till everything’s in place, finish cleaning and arranging…it’s gonna be great!”
You pay Gojo one final glare of amusement, the teasing stares pulling you both towards the unkempt vast of the kitchen. There’s a certain set of cabinets that call your attention, the blanched wood doors wide in welcomes your gaze. Your finger points to the plates before you, recalling the details of Gojo’s task.
“Since you’re tall, can you put the plates up in the cabinet? I’ll put the pots and pans in the lower cabinets.”
A cheeky smile is all it takes for Gojo to oblige, breaking his looming stare to tend to his assignments. Though, as much as Gojo wants to help you out, he truly can’t. Within the placement of one plate, his focus finds means elsewhere, those blue eyes hinged on you beside him.
How could he carry on such a leisure task when he has you so close to him, the curve of your ass just hugging at the thighs of his pants. There’s so much to unfold and too much for him to ignore—the bend consuming your body revealing more than he deserves. The warmth of your skin pecks at his skin, a thrill of heat surfacing to your touch. 
You’re soft against him, brushing a silky plush donning the title of your skin. He just doesn’t get it, why must your skirt be so short teasing the whims of a man like himself? He wants to look away, savor the time he’s been given with you thoughtfully…
But damn it all when you dip forward to better your reach, the silhouette of your cunt sucking through the thin inseam of your black lace panties. For a moment—just a brief moment—Gojo’s blessed with the delicate curves of your clothed pussy. 
It’s tantalizing to him, pulling his mind to an unmatched euphoria. His mind is swift to flood with his lewd thoughts, hoping that one day he hopes to endure the forbidden sight of your cunt’s lips splitting around his cock.
“Oh fuck!” his inner thoughts coming to light. He’s swift to conceal the slip of his words with a cough, the deep draw straining his throat. It’s enough for you to jolt, bouncing back onto your feet to tend to Gojo.
“Gojo! Wait, I’ll get you a cup of wat—”
Before you can even think, the brash pads of Gojo’s hand lace your dainty fingers into his own. He pulls your hand to the plush pink curves of his lips, placing a lingering peck along your laxed knuckles. His free hand slips to fill the small of your back, pulling you to crash against the chest of his black sweater.
“Well, well well, look at you, racing around to help little ole’ me…just knew you were perfect fr’ me.”
His eyes flicker over you once more, a rush of thrill licking at his skin. The question he has is heavy, sits a little too heavy on his chest. That’s why he has to say it—to free himself of his one true desire.
“Let me take you out…tonight. I can show you around town, show you all my favorite spots and more.”
“A date? Already? We just met, Gojo…I don’t…”
A cast of hesitation settles onto you both, a tension so thick that neither of you could withdraw. Gravity condemns you to his side, body falling prey to Gojo’s allure. There’s something about the man that compels you, the saccharine tone of persuasion dripping from his voice. He could put you in a trance and you’d be at his every whim, that alone serving as your conclusion.
“Okay, pick me up around seven. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by so many boxes and dust.”
Gojo presses a final kiss onto your knuckles before breaking away from you, an indescribable elation written across his features.  
“I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll make the night worth your while.”
With that, Gojo left from your side, unable to wipe the stupid grin from his face. A date with the woman of his dreams, the thought alone pulling nervous flutters from his heart.
Through a passing glance, he manages to catch a glimpse of the digital clock embedded in the stovetop: 4:30 pm.
From the moment he left your home and entered his own, ensuring your good favor was all that weighed heavy on Gojo’s mind. He simply had to win you over, knowing that you too shared some interest in him. 
It’s the first time in a long time that Gojo’s felt this way, endowed to someone other than himself. In Gojo’s eyes, to have you is to have all the riches in the world. He knows there’s something so different about you, something that sets his body aflame.
That’s why in the hours he has left to prepare for the impromptu date, he puts in all the effort to become the best version of himself. From grooming his closet for the finest outfit—stone gray slacks, a mauve silk button, and his favorite set of leather black loafers— picking up a bouquet of white roses for good measure, and rushing to arrange reservations at the nearest restaurant a few block away, Gojo knew he’d have to use all the tricks in his arsenal to eventually call you his one day.
By the time seven did set in, Gojo brought himself to stand right outside your door, wearing that stupid smile once more. The nerves have yet to settle beneath his fair skin, flairs of red ripping across his cheeks and ears alike. Before he can bring his finger to press the small button, deja vu befalls Gojo again.
He’s welcomed by the sight of you, dressed in an orange satin mini dress. His eyes hang upon every inch of you, the dress’ low cut neckline especially appealing to Gojo’s taste, coaxing the corners of his lips to tease with a smirk.
He hands you the bundle of florals carefully, allowing his fingers to graze along your own for a moment. Gojo lets his head fall into a tilt, plush lips of pink curving as he watches your expression bloom into a whimsical grim.
“Don’t you look perfect? The color suits you, Gorgeous.”
“Aw, why thank you! But first…tell me where we’re going…please?”
“Like I said, I wanna show you around. There’s a nice restaurant a few blocks from where we’re walking to, I think you’ll like it.” He lets his hand fall from the bouquet to brush along your waist, the mere weight of his touch drawing you to rest against his chest. The pinning force melds within his heart as he’s finally introduced to your body’s warmth, a subtle sigh escaping from his lungs.
“Let’s get goin’ I wanna spend as much time with you as I can…y’know, being a gentleman and all.”
The words Gojo utters aren’t so much spoken for your liking, as they are to him—a reminder of the persona he wears tonight. And for the night, he swore to maintain his composure, to keep his dangerous thoughts away in order to hit every mark with you.
A final glance of exchanges takes its place between you both before the journey begins, Gojo leading with you by his side.
“Gojo…who lives in that house?” you hand motioning towards the passing house. Gojo’s eyes fall into a squint, a scoff trailing from out his lips at the realization.
“Oh...that’s Toji Fushiguro. I heard he’s in his forties and lives alone in the house. But, he’s someone you should stay away from, especially when you’ve got me,” he teases, using all his efforts to distract you from Toji’s burning stare.
Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, such imbues of green searing into your memory. He’s not one to forget, the man lounging upon his porch with a smoke in hand. His eyes are murky with an unseen objective, the lingering leer fading away with a salacious wink doused in trouble. A gasp escapes from your lips at his notion, intrigue bubbling high among your sentiments.
“He seems interesting, though…” the last review you give Toji before he’s out of sight.
It isn’t long before you reach the restaurant, the soft twinkle of lights meeting your eye. The quaint establishment holds no more than a few, the other patrons spread thin across the restaurant floor. You and Gojo found yourselves towards the back, a table free from the immediate presence of others. 
The tension between you both is one of a thickened atmosphere, both of you itching to solve the mystery of each other. Rather than ask Gojo your burning question, you wait an assured time without interruption, the opportunity presenting itself minutes after the waiter receives the orders of dinner.
You find yourself pulled towards Gojo, his speechlessness creating an aura of enticement for your favor. Your eyes suffer the weight of intrigue, eyelids heavy with an underlying taunt of lust. Your hands fold beneath your chin for support, the gradual silence coming to an end.
“Tell me Gojo, why are you single? You’re such a handsome man with a really smooth personality, it honestly shocks me that you are.”
Gojo’s hand rises from the white tablecloth, slender rubbing at the point of his chin. It’s a question he’s addressed but has yet to confront the clauses of such an inquiry. He knows the answer through and through but knows he’ll scare you—the woman he’s been waiting for— away. But he prays you’ll understand him, understand why he is the way he is and accept all that came with him. He gives you one wavering glance before replying, a hefty sigh guiding the spill of words.
“Why am I single?...it’s more than what you’d believe, Princess. I’m not all that…accepted, to put it shortly. And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept all of me, right?”
Eager to close the distance, Gojo pits himself inches from you, a lazy stare lurking across your placid visage. You’re eager for an answer, that much is enlightened to Gojo through the thick shroud of silence. He grants your burning question with another facer to be uncovered, the question rolling off his tongue with sinful ease.
“Can you accept all of me? All it takes is a date to know if you wanna put up with someone…so does that same ideal—Oh, look at that, I dropped my fork.”
You watch as Gojo sinks beneath his seat towards the burgundy carpet. All’s quiet for the seconds your date spends hidden underneath the table…all until the vibrations of your phone earn your distant attention. Bringing the call to your ear, your voice leads the conservation with a shushed giggle, your head tilting in a blissful delight.  
“Is there a reason you’re calling me from under the table, Gojo?”
“Of course there’s a reason, I want you to hear everything I have to say…”
The tips of Gojo’s digits brush along the prominent curve of your thigh. A heft of warmth follows his breath as he inches towards you, brimming your skin with a chilling lick of desire. It’s almost embarrassing for you to admit, the swirling flame crowding at the dormant bulb of your clit. There’s a prowling heat that consumes your cunt, the plunging weight wedged between your poor walls. A bare squeak rips from your lungs, only to fade beneath the barrage of Gojo’s speech.
“You asked why I’m single, it’s true that no woman has really accepted me…but there’s more to it. I’m a mess when it comes to love, I let lust run as high as my heart and no one has really kept up with me because of that. As for you, my pretty girl…you’re so cute, so perfect for me to ruin. From the moment we met, I just knew you were the woman of my dreams. There’s something hidden deep within you—and I wanna be the one to bring it out.”
“So then, you wanna–”
“I wanna lose myself in you. Touch you, kiss you, call you mine, I just want you so bad it hurts.”
You can’t comprehend how fast Gojo’s fingers sneak beneath your dress to tug at your panties. Then again, you can’t begin to comprehend how fast you’ve fallen at his pleas, your thighs breaking from the harsh clasp for his head to fill the space. It’s the anticipation that has you this wet, what has your skin inflamed with spry nerves, the thrill of Gojo indulging in your pussy within the company just surrounding the promiscuous atmosphere.
The plea laced behind his pants brought along a course of thirst throughout your body. You can’t wait for it, the soft heat of his tongue dragging through your folds, strides of spit melting with your nectar, the moans pried from the depths of his chest. The thin cloth suddenly grows to be an annoyance, your hips bucking to wedge the cinched waistband from its post.
“Please…please, let me do it. I just wanna make you feel good, just me and me only.
“Fuck, Gojo, I–”
At the sound of your voice, Gojo finally allows himself to falter in your stead, shedding the kind persona he’d donned for the night. His fingers tug the pesky panties of yours down your legs, the limp white cotton bunched at your ankles. His touch drifts further across your body, a gentle rattle against your skin forcing your thighs apart.
Gojo can’t resist it any longer, the vast of his palm breaking from your thigh. The tips of fingers trace the curves of your cunt’s lip in tease, parting the plushy mounds to reveal the ness awaiting him. The sticky unclasp echoes in his ears, a hiss of resistance cutting through the air.
He’s met by the salacious mess of your pussy, the puffy lips breaking from the sticky hold. It’s more than he expected, the glossy strands of your essence dripping from the hood of your clit. The patterns dresses your pussy in a delicate manner, fragile strands illuminating your folds. Yet what teases at that ache deep within his stomach was your slit, soapy flutterings gasping to be filled. The threads string across the silky sheets are diamondlike, glimmering even in the dimmest of light.  
“Look at how much of a mess you made fr’ me, Baby—fuck!— clit’s so damn cute under my fingers. Bet you wanna cum real bad…but not yet. Not until I play with you, alright?”
All you can do is whimper out your transgressions to Gojo, the cry of urgency muted by your cupping hand. He’s so gentle with his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers drifting along the glistening folds to reach your clit. He’s so gentle that it’s teasing, laying a fluttering trail to swirl about the pearl. Why, he’s so gentle that it's taunting, your hips reeling from his touch. Yet, all you earn is a huff from Gojo through the phone, his sloppy grip bracing your hip.
“Don’t do that, just gonna make you cum harder now, y’know.”
You don’t know it just yet, that side of Gojo that can alone uphold his honor. The side that keeps his word, ensuring that he’ll follow through on his part. The same principle applies to you all the same. It’s why he can bring his tongue to your frail slit, dragging that slippery ingraining stride through your folds—just to strike the raw bulb of your clit. The whimpers, gasps, and moans all fill Gojo’s ear, spitefully pawing at his ego. It fuels him to pursue further endeavors to test you.
“So pretty, Baby. Gonna let me kiss that pretty clit too, aren’t you?” his voice tapering across your roused skin. “Now relax, let me suck your clit, ‘kay?”
His words pull at your body’s temperament, releasing a wave of frigid heat to shroud your pussy. The plush mounds of his lips lay soft kisses against your clit, teasingly sealing the hood between each peck. At first, it isn’t noticeable, just the puffy seal of his lips enveloping the perked bud. 
The gradual pull of your clit that alerts you, the streamlined squelching suckles pinned on the raw nerves. He’s even managed to make a mess of you, returning spools of spit dripping from his pursed hold over your clit.
The slobbering unclasp of his lips chime through the call, the lewd symphony strumming through your lips. His fingers cup at your cunt, parted digits placing gentle pulsing squeezes along your clit. Gojo pulls back for a moment, hungered eyes taking in the beautiful fixture he’d made out of your pussy.
“Mhm, that’s it, good girl, relax fr’ me. I think I’m falling in love with your pussy—tastes so good.”
“Oh m-my God!! Fuck Gojo, y-you can’t say it like that!”!  
“Aww, but it’s the truth. Your pussy s’ good and fuck… twitching against my tongue like that. You’re so needy, Angel…gonna make you cum real soon.”
Just as he promised, the final clasp of his swollen lips brings about your downfall, the mind-shattering orgasm milking at your worth. A chain reaction breaks across your body, claiming your lungs in a breathless gasp. It’s heavy, the insufferable burden pulling the hull of your chest to the surface. Your legs know no bounds either, the innermost plush threatening to smother Gojo.
He repels himself from you before harm could arise, dragging the flat of his tongue along his plump lips. Pride boils at the forefront of Gojo’s mind as he returns to his seat, wearing a nonchalant smile in your presence. He knows what’s passing through that fuzzy mind of yours, the hues of lust and curiosity melding into one. The look of widened eyes, high eyebrows, and an agape mouth tell Gojo all he needs to know as he sets his phone down onto the white tablecloth: you’re curious.
The questions of what he can do to you fill up your mind, latent desires grooming at the surface of your skin. Gojo’s awakened something inside you, something that can’t quite be transcribed into words. It’s heat, a warmth so fierce that it grows with impatience. 
The longer you return his gaze, the heavier the flames weigh on your mind. It entraps your entire body in a trap of heat, the inescapable urge swirling deep within your shuddering tummy. Suddenly, a single demand falls from your lips without regret in sight.
“Gojo, I really…um…I really wanna go now.”
“Aww, but we haven’t even eaten yet. I guess we can—
“Take it to go? We can do all that at the reception table. So can we…go…now?”
Gojo falls back in his seat as he stares at you, hiding a growing grin behind with the single thought looming above.
He’s got you. Exactly where he wants you, a hot and rowdy mess falling before his very eyes.
In response to his goal being met, Gojo stands up straight from his spot on the chair. His hand falls from its hold as a makeshift shield, presenting both his beckoning call and grin to you.
“C’mon, let’s get you home. I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
Leading you back home was nothing short of thrilling to Gojo. He studies you with a watchful eye, how you dropped your walls for the likes of him. It’s not vulnerability in the slightest but a taste of a life he’s always sought for. And here you come, providing him an earnest peek at that softer, susceptible side of you. 
Your touch welcomes him, warms his heart to a point as he bears your dainty hands clinging to his sleeve. He’s exposed to this soft side of you by the soft nudge of your kisses, his cheek covered in trailing pecks as he struggles to pay for the night’s incomplete outing.
Gojo can’t help but fall prey to you, his heart set aflutter with skipping pangs. He finds himself returning your endearing favors, catching your lips in a kiss every so often. His touch vacates anything formal, fitted perfectly along your lower back to squeeze at the swell of your ass.
All the formalities Gojo should have maintained fell from his arsenal with every passing minute it takes to reach your home, the quaint house welcoming both your heavy hearts. He’s clinging to you, a hand pulsing at the plush of your waist and the other occupied with the bag of forgotten dinner.
“Do you…” Gojo begins, his smirked lips curling at the shell of your ear. “Need help with the keys?
His digits drift along the flushed skin of your forearm, lacing around your palm to aid in the envied endeavor.
“Just one last turn and…that’s the click. Now…push open that door if you don’t want the neighbors to see.”
Your body’s compelled to fall to Gojo’s words, entering through to the door with crazed haste. As the door falls shut, there’s a break in the tension, a moment for your mind to return to some state of coherency. Your first instinct is to walk, to separate for just a step. But it’s his swiftness you overlook, how quick he comes over to tower over you. 
The hull of Gojo’s chest harbors a heavy tune, scattered breaths melding through you. His arm travels across your hips, laxed fingers creating lazy pleats along the hem of your dress.
“No, no, no…I finally have you to myself, Pretty girl. Where do you think you’re goin’ ?”
Your eyes cower with obligation dotting the blurred hues of your eyes. You can’t refuse Gojo, not with the pulling attraction guiding your heart thus far. Especially when he towers above you like this, the heat of his encasing you whole. There’s almost a compelling force, something bringing you onto your toes to close the distance. Your lips just barely brush past his own, the puffy heat teasing you with an invite.
“I’m…—!”
Gojo’s lips meet your own, the intoxicating smother of heat exhausting remnants of your energy. It’s intoxicating, how fixed you’ve become to his touch. There isn’t a moment to falter. Your lips cling to his own, such supple curves desperate to match the careful weaves he guides you through.
Languid trudges usher you and Gojo to the living room, smothered bodies collapsing onto the black leather cushions. He pulls you to warm his lap, hands steady along your hips. He’s so insistent to close any distance that keeps you both apart. It’s why his hands are sent clutch at your dress, tugging at the silk to pull right over your head.
Clothes continue to sprinkle across the room, piles upon piles falling to the abyss surrounding the lucid scene. His lips return to adorn your body, mindless pecks falling into the crook of your neck. His kisses bring about a rouse beneath your skin, each press of his lips earning a rush of blood to greet him. The trails of his affections fall prey to the valley of your chest.
Truth be told, he’s been dying for this, to touch you in ways only he could. His digits cup at the delicate swells of your tits, entrapping the hardened peaks in between.
“You’re so beautiful, Baby. So fucking beautiful.”
His eyes refuse to falter from yours, clinging to the sight of ecstasy as his lips seals your nipple away with the expanse of his mouth. A moan rips from Gojo’s chest, deeming him to have a senseless sense of self. Control isn’t something attainable in his current state, the man drunk off you. 
Everything about you is heavenly, your warmth, your company, the pretty whimpers you make as Gojo’s tongue whisks around the puffy peaks lazily. He’s squeezing your tits softly, serving as his reminder of just how explicit everything’s become.
It’s not until you find yourself relaxing in his hold that you realize just how much you do to Gojo, bare lips of your cunt splitting around something hard.
“You’re so hard, ‘Toru. Does it hurt?”
“Mhm,” he hums, breaking away from the slobbering mess he’s made of your tits. “I really wanna feel those lips ‘round me, can you do that for me? Please?”
You offer him an enthusiastic nod, sinking onto your knees before his trembling thighs. The plush espresso carpet cradles the curve of your knees as you adjust, placing your lithe fingers along his abre thigh. But it’s the sight before you that stirs the brew of butterflies deep within your belly, coaxing a piercing shock to widen your hazy eyes.
Gojo’s big. Not just in his towering stature but right between his legs all the same. Your eyes are welcomed by the pretty plush of his cock, the tanned fat sitting pretty against his thigh with miserable want. The girthy shaft blooms with inflamed hues of green and blue. The thickest of veins are free from such imbues, too roused to don any single tint. Your eyes trail to the head of his cock, greeted by the bullying fury of reds. The tip weeps an uncontrolled sob of greed, the blushed adorning a smear ring of his precum.
Your lips falter at the scene, a pool of spit budding just beyond sight. Gojo’s hand cups the back of your neck, rattling a gentle pace of encouragement to soothe your nerves. It’s kind encouragement, his efforts allowing for your lips to part for his girth. A gentle kiss lays upon his slit, staining the pout in his essence. The throbbing pulse of his cock is hot against your lips, beckoning you to place yet another peck.
Your mouths with every bit to be covered, gradually slipping the fat head to sit snug between your suckling lips. It’s soft, pulling at the mere surface of the swelled tip. Your tongue even peeks for a moment, wavering along the underside all too teasingly in faint swipes. Gojo winces at the sensation, tingling with a striking thrill. His fingers find work at the nape of your neck once more, playing an uncoordinated tune upon your skin.
“You…You know what to do, take it all in your mouth fr’ me, Baby.”
Mindlessly, you lose to his imminent demand, your eyes suffering under the influencing weight. Your head strums along Gojo’s length without care, the throbbing head pecking at the back of your throat. The sensation’s nothing short of brutal, brash strikes threatening to pursue deeper lengths. Your ears help ease what coherency remains, hinged on the pretty crumbling moans ripping from his chest.
Gojo’s hot-blooded spree of lust carried you through the consistent hollows of your lungs, begging for just a lick of air. He’s desperate for it, to use your poor mouth like his favorite toy— so warm, wet and even tighter than his fist could ever begin to achieve.
But little does Gojo know, it’s more of a strain on you than him.
It’s a struggle, a harsh journey to endure to please Gojo. He’s far from the concept of silence, but there’s more dying to fly off his chest. He’s feeling it, courtesy of his jutting hips reckoning to reach the plump cling of your lips. The pitiful whimpers tell you all that’s known about his crumbling state. You want to deliver that taste of irresistible heaven to him.
Your hands migrate from the loose casing formed around his cock to his thighs, the pads of your digits settling into place. The thoughts swirl at the forefront of your mind. It had to be thoughtless, free of any worry, care, or restraint. If you faltered for even a moment, the teasing would be ripped right from the hands of Gojo.
You pull your lips to rest at the fat head of his cock, head tilting to greet his drowsy eyes. He’s high off his anticipation. Sweat works across his body, bringing the white locks of his hair to stick to his forehead. But more attaches onto Gojo’s fleeting persona, the glints of his own vulnerability coming to light. It’s present in how he looks at you, lust melded with the forbidden glints of genuine peeking through the haze. A chilling sight at first glance, a forced endeavor to endure at his whim.
His hands cup at the chub of your cheeks as an unknown comfort, his thumbs swiping at the polished highs with a look of intrigue. His tongue curls with a lax pull, putting the ramble of words to flood the air.
“W-why are you so…fucking pretty?... Hm? Can’t even look at me straight b-but you look s’ perfect just like this.”
A muffled moan vibrates about the inflamed crown from your throat, barely processing the praise to rattle off Gojo’s tongue. Your mind’s numb to it, the brisk descent of your lips down Gojo’s cock. Bubbly foams of spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth, only to be brushed away by the lewd gurgle brewing in your throat.
 It’s sloppy and messy, taking all of him in one swift notion. And you know it’s working, your eyes peering up at Gojo Through the thick gather of your lashes. He’s singing a song so passionate it simply can’t be hidden, head nicked between his shoulder blades with the ball of his adam’s apple sent awry.
Gojo doesn’t mean to be mean, ripping his cock from your jaw destructively. He’s sure you aren’t aware of all you’ve done to him in a matter of seconds, your tongue nipping at the heavy bloat of his balls. A few moments longer and he’s sure you would’ve milked him of all he’s had. He hopes you’ll appreciate it as an apology, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. 
He pulls you onto his lap, digits latching onto your chin once more. He doesn’t take a second to acknowledge your ruined state, crashing his lips against your own. It’s heavy, the press so rich it’s almost dizzying. His tongue curls along with yours, draping the flat laggardly. That’s all he does before breaking from your lips, falling back onto the couch’s plush backing.
“S-Shit…did such a good job…I want you—really fucking want you— to use me, ride me, fuck that pretty lil’ pussy on me!”
“O-Okay…just let me do it.”
A small hand disappears between the clash of bodies, in your palm holds the head of Gojo’s cock. He’s wet, slick with the fruit of your labor. It’s just enough to press the slit at your own, your hips lifting to a degree. Timing is all you need, the time to raise your hips just enough to prepare, fueling the frantic sink onto his cock.
Yet, you couldn’t have really prepared for Gojo, not with how much harder he’s become with you in his grasp. His cock’s brimmed with spry nerves, prickling with a fiery heat. It’s that same heat that keeps your walls from fluttering, sending the rich burn to nip at your poor entrance.
“OhmyGod, you’re so—”
“B-Big? I know, it’s all for you, baby…”
Your hips are caught in a bind, stubborn to move from their cocooning state. It takes for gentle rocks of Gojo’s hips to relax you, your hips rising voluntarily. He’s easing those walls of yours to a point, pushing past your sweet spot dumbly. You almost give him the full right to control in those moments, your body growing limp in his hold.
Right until you start to question it, the privilege to ruin your date by your means. He’s right there for the taking. It’s because of those very ponderings that you can sit high, swiveling about the head of Gojo’s cock before delivering a shattering pry at his building high. You can handle yourself this time, smothering your clit in the hairs surrounding his base. Your strides hold fast along his length, your pussy enveloping the entirety of his cock. Whiffs of insecurity whisk through your mind, unsure if Gojo would succumb to the lust as quickly as you did—only for you to discover the sweetest sight known to man.
Gojo’s brought himself to a whimpering shell of himself, mind numb off the slobbery squeeze of your walls. It’s so good to his poor, ruined mind, drunk off the bliss of your pussy. Spit spills from his mouth and glosses his lips, eyes glassy by the burning onslaught of tears—he’s a wreck underneath you. He’s finally got you, putting the effort to be used as some boy toy. He can’t take it, Gojo’s mind being beyond comprehension.
You take him so well, granting his sullied tip to nudge at your precious cervix. He deems himself blessed in the moment too, studying the pleasure trap itself beneath your features. Your lips fall from their pursed build, eyes rolled back into your skull, and hips set at a senseless pace. Why it’s so good, Gojo can’t believe it, freeing himself from the binds of his carnal lust.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum like that, Angel—and I don’t want that yet.”
Gojo’s brute strength comes to play as he takes hold of the reins, using her sheer force to pin you beneath his body. He settles onto his haunches, pulling you that much closer to close the distance. He doesn’t, guiding your legs to fold against your chest. He’s focused on your behalf, eyes queued on his bucking hips.
“B-But I’m gonna fuck you now, kay? Wanna make you feel good too, cover my cock with your pretty cum.”
The head of his cock pushes into you, splitting the lips of your cunt in an open kiss. He’s fitting inside you with such vivid ease, his cock almost sitting homely in your heat. The thick head kisses your leaving his shaft to curve at your sweet spot explicitly. He stretches you just right, fills you to the hilt, and the pulsing throbs that twitch inside you are nothing short of lewd.
With a few dips of his cock, Gojo could’ve made you cum just like that…but you’ve come to know that he won’t.
Gojo’s hips snap with no prevail, sending his cock to plunge so deep inside you. He’s hitting your cervix on every drive of his hips, smothering the perked nerves in a mess of fluttering pecks. He prefers it this way, pitting himself to the brim of your pussy that you have no choice but to cry out, his name falling from your lips.
He’s unforgiving when he’s like this, bringing forth the clash of skin echoing around the room. Gojo’s feverish in such nature, desperate to savory your pussy and desperate to cum. It’s more or less a reward for him, witnessing you handle all he’s giving. He can bury himself as much as you would allow, your walls sending his cock to. Each reel of his hips pulls the glossy sheens of your essence to paint his shaft
There’s much to take in but not a coherent thought in sight to do such bidding. From his chest smothered against your own, breath fanning—it’s simply too much for you to endure. The friction doesn’t offer you much either, the melds of heat running your body hot and throwing your mind into a flushed haze.
Gojo’s the one to blame, the thick of his fat cock rummaging tempered drags along your walls. It’s the hot and gummy fat bullying your walls that trap you in a trance, his cock rendering you a dumb mess of drool and spilled tears.
“G-Gojo…wait! It’s so–no, it’s too much! Jus’ slow down—”
Gojo’s hand peels from your thigh, his palm curved to the plush of your tummy. The tips of his fingers sit deep upon you, his soothing touch massaging your skin.
“It’s going too deep? Oh pretty girl, I can go, so, so much deeper than this. So deep that all you’ll know is me, baby.”
But it’s unbeknownst to Gojo how much he’s ruined you. He’s caught up in the sight of you so distraught and needy that he doesn’t know how close you are to your high. It’s hinged on so close that all it does take for you to reach that high is the pretty head of his cock to kiss at your cervix, the kiss of reassurance allowing for you to crumble.
Your spine arches from the dented cushions, hands fighting for solid grounding. Patches of stars coat your vision, courtesy of. Violent waves of exhaustion all strike your body at once, pulling what energy was left behind. You’re caught in a bind, the firm hold looming over your limp physique until it breaks at the sound of Gojo’s voice.
“That’s it, let everyone know that you’re all mine, Angel. You’re all mine, and I swear to fuck I’m not letting you go,” the oath rolling off his tongue. Gojo can’t help himself, refusing to quit amidst your high. His hips tilt to better his reach against your sweet spot, riding through the course of your orgasm.
A sharp seethe of air cuts through Gojo’s lips, pity boiling at the forefront of his mind. He knows it’s too much for you, watching your body attempt to flee. His eyes settle on your tits, bouncing with each flinch consuming you. He wants to say it, ask for your fleeting patience as his own orgasm hints at its arrival. But bless his foolish heart, he’s so drunk off your drooling pussy that words come out harsher than he means.
“Ah, don’t run from me, just take it…take every inch of me.”
A longing whimper of defeat wails off your chest. He’s fucking you to undiscovered lengths in your body, so far gone that babbles serve as your conversings. That same crowding influence seeps into your limp tongue. There’s no control in what you can say or do, your hands resting along the ridges of his flexed abs. Even your legs lose the urge to resist, lacing around Gojo’s waist to push him deeper than he’s even been.
“Please, c-cum inside me, Gojo. Please cum inside my pretty pussy, ‘Toru, please!”
“Oh Y/N, that’s so dirty of y-you…wait—fuck!—”
The threads of reality snap in Gojo’s mind at the sound of your pleading voice, a violent reckoning crashing over him. The spill of tension that sits in the fat bloat of his balls ruins you, thick ropes of a creamy white flushing your walls white.
Gojo’s lost all strength to carry on, his impoverished body collapsing onto yours. A dizzy head and heaving chest is a combination he’s used to but tonight holds a different story. Words can’t be found to describe the state he’s entered. He’s astute, taking everything in as his hands cling to your waist. His thumbs draw mindless circles into your skin, Gojo’s silent form of apology.
It’s a strange instinct for him, the sudden urge to shower you in his care. His mind’s racing with thoughts, how to show his intentions for you. It’s not in his character but god did he was To soothe you with kisses, rub all the sores and knicks he’d inflict, just to lay next to you in idle conversation was all he wanted at the moment. The effort’s worth it in his eyes.
So he decides to try his hand at it, pulling his chest from yours. His hands lay flat beside your head, closing the distance between you both with a smirk.
“Lemme clean you up.”
With a quick peck of his lips, Gojo turns his attention between his legs. His eyes fall shut as he pulls out from your cunt with a hitching breath. But it’s the sight that has him whimpering, his cock glistening with slick and spattered patterns of white.
Slotting himself between your legs, Gojo presses his cheek along your inner thigh, hands keeping your limbs apart.
His eyes return to the timeless sight of your slit, dribbling with his cum. He’s apprehensive about it for the moment, admiring the rare scene with doting hues. Yet as his tongue finally curls up against your folds, all thought suspends from him.
He can’t help but to be lazy, the flat of his tongue lapping at the puffy sheets of flesh. Each drop of your essence is caught by Gojo’s ministrations, relishing in your taste.
He’s guided to the hood of your clit, the bud perked twitching in regards. The tip of his slicked muscles tightens upon the sticky contact , swirling around the pearl gently. Gojo’s digits gravitate to your pussy, catching the hood of your clit in a flurry of strokes. He couldn’t care less about his cum pooling from your entrance, too enthralled with the unsteady gasps trapping your lungs.
“G-Gojo, wait! It’s t-too much!”
“Told you I love this cute clit of yours. Just give me one more, please?”
Feverish nods spill from you, the heft of the impending orgasm reaching like no other. It’s passing you in waves, the tingling numbness claiming the soles of your feet. Your legs fold to meet your chest rapidly, the knot in your lower back unraveling at godforsaken heights.
Gojo’s humming a giddy tune as he presses his lips to your quivering clit. He watches as your body thrashes about the sunken cushions, a prideful glint illuminating his eyes.
“Mhm, that’s my girl. ‘M so proud of you!”
Gojo pulls from your side for the moment, leaving the couch to sort through the vast piles of discarded clothes. He returns with his briefs and wrinkled button-down in tow. The dress shirt drapes across your body as he pulls you to your feet, his arms laced around your waist.
“C’mon, let’s go get comfortable,” he coos, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. The two of you stroll up the stairs, passing through the first right door to enter the moonlit bedroom. The duvet’s tint of blue beckons you and Gojo to grow closer. He leads you to the bed, collapsing beside you with sleep itching on the brain.
As he settles at your side, Gojo’s eyes scan about your room. He’s greeted by the blanched white walls, a few paintings that hang—the bare coverings over your windows. A streak of blush surfaces at the highs of his cheeks, turning to meet your languid sights.
“Y’know, you have to buy some blinds, Princess. It’s especially dangerous at night, people can be so nosy.”
“Is that right?” you giggle, staring at Gojo through your lashes. You can’t help but admire his beauty, how the faint light of the moon kisses his fair skin and white hair. Even the way he looks at you holds radiance, his eyes of blue holding the purest glow you’ve ever seen.
Gojo doesn’t bother to keep his distance, bringing his body to cocoon your own. His hand catches yours in a hold, paired with the gentle pecks riddled across your cheeks.
“Promise to take you out on a real date tomorrow. We can do everything, walk around town, go to a different restaurant–”
“What’re you doing, Gojo?” the question calling about reflective silence.
He lets your inquiry bake on his mind for a while, keeping his fingers intertwined with your own. Gojo knows exactly what you mean. Promising another date, even just being in the same bed as you for this long was foreign. But with you—for you— he’s inclined to do anything that’ll keep you around.
He pays you one final glance before replying, a small grin teasing the corners of his lips.
“Trying something new.”
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ktgoodmorning · 2 days
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Sleepy
Claudia Pina x reader
every time you're around Claudia, you end up falling asleep on her.
Just lots of soft and fluffy :)
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Masterlist
You had only been dating Claudia for a short while, but there was something about her that made you the most comfortable you had ever been. Every time you were with her, you immediately let your guard down and finally allowed yourself to relax. It wasn’t even a conscious reaction, just something that happened, not even realizing the little habit you had fallen into until the rest of the team started to notice. 
… 
It was only a few minutes into the movie when your head leaned to rest on your girlfriend’s shoulder. You were having a movie night with a few of your closer teammates when you started to drift off. At this point, everyone else had noticed the way the two of you were constantly falling asleep every time you sat down together, but the two of you still hadn’t picked up on it. All you knew was that you loved snuggling up with your girlfriend and if that led to a short nap, then so be it. 
“Well Pina, at least we know that if football doesn’t work out you could always get a job as someone’s pillow,” Patri giggled at her best friend as she was only met with Pina’s furrowed eyebrows in return. 
“What are you talking about?” 
This time Vicky took the chance to explain it as Patri was still proud of herself for her joke and laughing too much to do it herself. “She’s literally always sleeping on you every time you get the chance, and half the time you’re asleep too!” 
Even though it was all in good fun, your girlfriend got someone defensive at all her friend’s jokes and only pulled you in tighter against her side, grumbling to herself in Spanish as she did so. When your friends noticed her immediate change in mood, they quickly tried to defend themselves from her wrath that they knew she could unleash on them if she thought they were being mean to you. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing, we’re just having fun, Clau.” Patri raised her hands as if to surrender while you continued sleeping next to her. 
“Well she’s my girlfriend so sorry if I don’t like it when you talk about her like that.” she continued grumbling in an attempt to avoid snapping at them and waking you up in the progress. 
“Pina, seriously. We’re not trying to be mean. It’s cute, okay? You two are just always snuggled up together, it’s sweet.” Patri gave her a look that made it clear how sincere she was being, a look that only her best friend understood. She was genuinely excited for Pina to finally be in a happy relationship that clearly put her at ease. 
The brunette gave her best friend a nod as everyone turned back to the movie playing in front of you, letting her annoyance with her friends disappear when she looked at your face resting peacefully against her. The look on your face instantly put her at ease, causing her to rest her head against the top of yours to keep watching. 
It had been her turn to pick the movie tonight, something that was a coveted honor within your group. Because of this, it should’ve been easy for her to pay attention and engage with it. 
It should’ve been. 
About ten minutes later, Claudia had joined you in your nap, much to the dismay of everyone else in the room as they whispered at each other. No matter how much they would tease you both, they still weren’t trying to wake you up. 
“Are you kidding me, she was the one who wanted to watch this stupid movie?!” Vicky was the first to complain, as she typically was when she got the opportunity to tease you, but Jana was quick to defend you both. 
“No, but you have to admit it’s kind of cute, the way they’re always falling asleep together. Pina never got a normal amount of sleep before she got with (y/n).”
“It’d be a lot cuter if it wasn’t during our movie nights! Especially when she’s the one who insisted on this!” 
“Hey! Will you guys be quiet, you’re gonna wake them up!” 
Cata rolled her eyes at the way Patri was sure to defend you, “They’re not gonna wake up, they slept the entire bus ride yesterday and it was only an hour. And that was with all of us yelling and dancing around the whole time, I don’t know how they do it.” 
“Patri don’t you live right by here, why don’t we just go to your place and watch something there so they can keep sleeping?” Everyone seemed to be in agreement with Jana’s voice of reason and quietly made their way out, not before cleaning up some of their snacks and pausing the movie, knowing how badly Claudia wanted to see it, even if she fell asleep so soon into it. Patri sent you both a text to let you know where they went on the off chance one of you woke up, even if the odds were low. 
… 
Neither of you woke up until hours later when your backs started to hurt from the way you were balled up on the couch. 
“Clau, what time is it?” Your voice was rough from sleep, only cracking your eyes open slightly, surprised to not see any of your friends left in her apartment. 
The brunette only responded with a groan, adjusting herself slightly but still holding tight against you. Her lack of response made you decide to check yourself, digging in the couch cushions for your phone. “Baby, it’s almost eleven, everyone went to Patri’s when we fell asleep.” 
“Don’t move, I’m comfy…” she mumbled into you, hardly coherent, only making you giggle against her. 
“If we sleep like this any longer, we both know we’re gonna regret it in the morning. It’s late, we should get you to bed, and I should head home.” When you started to move off of her, she only pulled you back. 
“Wait, don't get up… not yet. You can stay over, if you’d like?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your sleep, Clau. You need rest for training tomorrow.” You wanted nothing more than to stay over and sleep all night in your girlfriend’s arms, cuddled up in her blankets, breathing in her scent. However, the last thing you wanted to do was intrude, especially when you knew how little sleep the midfielder typically got. 
She pushed herself to sit up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to, but I sleep a lot better when you’re with me. You don’t need to worry about messing up my sleep,” she paused for a moment, unsure if she should bring it up. “And I think you feel the same, no? The girls were talking about it earlier when you first fell asleep.” 
Her last statement left you confused. Why would your friends be discussing your sleep? Or your relationship? Claudia seemed to see the confusion on your face and took the opportunity to continue on. “They were talking about how we’re always falling asleep on each other and I guess I didn’t realize it until they said it but they’re kinda right. Everytime I’m with you I’m just so comfortable and relaxed that it puts me straight to sleep and I think you do too.”
The second she said it, you thought back to all the times you used your girlfriend as a pillow. Every flight you took, you’d pass out on her shoulder before the plane even took off. The number of bus rides the two of you would curl up together, instantly tuning out all your friends being loud around you. There were a few times where one of you fell asleep in the passenger seat, holding hands as the other drove. Or on the beach, in the midst of sunbathing, pinkies linked together so you could be together without messing up your tans. You couldn’t even count the number of movies you missed, sometimes alone with Claudia, sometimes with all your friends around, annoyed that you were missing it. Anytime you were laying on the couch reading, if she sat down to join you, you’d instantly pass out next to her. There were a couple times she even fell asleep against you when you sat next to each other in the locker room after a long day of training (that one always earned you lots of teasing). She would sit down next to you in front of your locker, throw her head on a shoulder with a long sigh, and instantly fall asleep.
But nothing was better than when you got to spend an entire night together. Nothing felt more at home to you then being engulfed in Claudia’s arms, getting the best sleep of your life. You would always be sharing some form of physical contact while she muttered soft words of love to you.
 “I love the way your hand fits in mine.” That was for when you were both too warm to be cuddled up close and were only connected by your hands interlocked between you. 
Or when her head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and she would always mumble into your skin, “You smell so good, mi amor.” Usually when she did that, it’d leave you in a fit of giggles from the way her nose tickled against your skin. 
You loved when she woke up next to you and you got to tease her for the way her long hair was all over, usually in your face as well as her own. No matter how much you’d tease her for her messy hair, she’d just mumble, half asleep, “I love when your voice is the first thing I hear when I wake up.” 
Anytime you had to wake her up, you loved the way her face scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed, only holding onto you even tighter, not wanting to leave your little bubble of peace. 
You didn’t even realize that she was equally as obsessed with your time sleeping together until she said it. There was nothing Claudia cherished more than when she’d be tracing soft patterns through your hair and ask you, “do you like that?” And you always responded with “I like everything you do, Clau.” and cuddled into her side further. 
Thinking about all your naps together brought a small smile to your face. You hadn’t realized it until she said it, but she was absolutely right. Being in her presence brought you a level of comfort that you rarely experienced. Of course it put you to sleep; it was the only time you weren’t stressing about everything else going on in your life. The second you were with her, your mind was put completely at ease and all your problems melted away. It wasn’t that you were just so sleep deprived you couldn’t stay awake, it was just that you were completely at peace with everything when you were together. 
“Amor, will you please stay over?” When you snapped out of your thoughts, Claudia was looking at you with puppy dog eyes and sticking her bottom lip out at you, a face she knew you had a hard time saying no to. 
“You know I would have said yes even without the face?” her pout broke into a smile at your answer. 
“I needed the face to make sure of it! That’s the money maker here, amor.” All you could do was roll your eyes and shake your head at her as she pulled you up to lead you into her room. If the puppy dog eyes were all it took to get you to spend the night with her, she’d be using them even more often, because she couldn’t have been more excited to continue your habit of passing out in each other’s arms.
Can we tell how much I love naps? Always looking for requests!
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skyrigel · 2 days
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Tell me again [ AB ]
Pairing ~ Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Plot ~ after a long day at work, Anthony tells you how much he missed his wife <3
Warning: pregnant!reader, little teasing, shy!reader
Words : 0.8k
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" I thought you would be asleep..." Anthony murmured, words soft as melody spelled in the dark, hands crossed around his chest, his cuffs rolled up like usual after every tired night in his office, he smiled at you, a glint in his eyes.
" Why would I ? " I would wait for you at the worlds end, You turned to look at your husband, after a hard day, his eyes looked so tired and yet, they were sparkling, always when it was you.
" Oh my dearest wife." He moaned as he crossed the distance in two long strides, wrapping his hands around your waist all the while dropping to his knees,
"I missed you so much baby." He said, kissing your baby bump gently as he looked up with stars in his eyes.
" You didn't miss me Anthony ?! " You fake gasped, watching the slow chuckle make its way through the rings of his cartilage as he plucked the book you were holding.
" Oh you have no idea ! " He growled, taking both your hands in his and guiding them to his face, his eyes shutting as your fingers traced the face you adored so much, he hummed in response, kissing the soft skin of your wrist as watched you, one knuckle at a time, eyes never leaving yours.
" you think I haven't missed you ? " His asked, almost blazing, " you? " He said again, " There wasn't a moment when my soul didn't want to crawl and come to you, not a moment when i wanted to be anywhere but in your arms love." He squeezed your hand gently as you smiled, because you knew, knew how much he loved you.
" Have i told you how much I love your hands ? " He traced the lightening like green nerves that made it ways across your skin, he loved every bit of you, body, soul, mind and heart.
" You haven't," you replied, feeling your breath knocked out, heart punching against your ribs.
Anthony's lip quirked at your dazed eyes, he loved every and each version of you but he so much adored when you made your needs known, how much Anthony loved giving you what you wanted, you just have to say it for me, my sweet love, he had told you.
" This," Anthony said, his lips grazing at the slight raise of vein of your wrist, following it upto the crook of your arm, smiling in triumph as a strangled noise made it's way out of your throat.
" You like it ? " He tilted his head, brows raised in question, " mmm" you hummed softly but being the Viscount and smug bastard lord bridgerton was, he smirked.
" Say it in words my lady." He gazed up, you gave him one eye roll but opened your mouth anyway, " I do." You said ans Anthony resumed his venturing.
" And I have told you how much I love your collarbones ? " He hummed, planting open mouthed kisses all way to to dip of your neck, his breath lingered like a tattooed kiss, you dropped your head back on the couch as Anthony nipped at the raw skin of your neck.
You felt his smile the way his teeth tore into your flesh, his hand soothing your belly in circular patterns, the other cupping your breast and kneading it with all the time in the world, " You aren't telling me." He complaint, mouth fixed several inches away from yours as he looked deeply into yours eyes, your breath were uneven as you whined at the lack of lips on you, he understood and caressed your cheeks, leaning until a thread of wind was between you, you waited for touch to burn you, waited for his lips to crash into yours but alas!
" An..thony " you whimpered and he shaked his head, mouthing a small, No.
" You haven't " you whispered, closing the inches as his mouth pressed against yours in warm fuzzy music, like everything the poets talked about, Anthony smiled as pulled for a second away, his eyes peicring yours, mischief dangling through the corners and oh, how much your loved this man.
" I think I have..." He trailed, nose nuzzling at the dark reds and blues of your neck, he loved his little vicious games, loved to tease you, loved to drive you crazy.
" You have." You told him, " Tell me again."
That was all Anthony needed to you tell you again, and again and again, how much he loved you.
Rigel's note🪩: This has been in my drafts for so long<3
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frost-queen · 2 days
Text
Prospects for better fortune (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)
Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic   , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22  , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers   , @merlieve   , @queen-of-books  , @glimmering-darling-dolly  ,@denkisclown   , @wildieflower  ,@meyocoko   , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr  , @swampthing07  , @melsunshine   , @panhoeofmanyfandoms  , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury  ,  @imagines-by-her  ,  @evilcr0ne  , @vviolynn   , @niktwazny303  ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187  , @markive-m , @lovesanimals0000
Summary: Colin's misfortune in trusting your uncle's lies leads to a forced engagement on an economic base. Only Colin and you are each other's worst enemy. A huge argument lowers the tempers as it leaves room for acceptance. Colin's dedication to you truly gets tested when a lord flirts just a little too much with you, his wife.
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Colin was pacing around, scratching the back of his head. – “She will be here.” – Violet reassured him. Colin stopped to face his mother. – “I’d rather she would not, it’s just… the damn Queen.” – he told her gesturing at the grand doors where they were waiting behind. – “Watch your mouth boy!” – Violet called out with a motherly scowl, not liking one bit her son was insulting the queen. Colin sighed deep running his hands down his face.
“I still can’t phantom why you decided for this to happen.” – Colin accused his mother. Violet set her hands on her hip. – “How about prospects?” – Violet explained making her son sigh loud. Violet and Colin looked alarmed at the hearing of hastened heels click on the floor. Colin sighed loud once more, letting his head fall back. Portia was hastening herself, dragging you along by your wrist.
“We better be on time!” – she hissed at you, making you roll your eyes at her. Portia joined them, out of breath. – “I see you’ve made it Portia.” – Violet said with a gentle smile. – “Indeed.” – Portia answered, tugging at you to move in front of her. She did the final checks on your hair and dress. – “Mama.” – you groaned out wanting to slap her hand away. One scaring scowl of her was enough to stop your complaining.
The doors opened as Brimsley appeared in the entrance. He opened his mouth to speak, staring at the display before him. All of you had frozen at the hearing of the door opening. Portia’s hand lingering in the air by your hair. Violet trying to straighten Colin’s tie as his hand hovered above hers ready to slap it away. Brimsley cleared his throat as it made you all stand presentable.
“The queen is ready.” – he said before turning round. – “Alright this is it.” – Violet spoke plucking at Colin’s puffy hair for it to be perfect. – “Smile sweetheart.” – Portia let out. Colin moved closer to the door as did you. He held his hand out to you. With a roll of your eyes, you placed your fingers sloppy on his palm. Brimsley entered more, bowing to her majesty the queen. – “Colin Bridgerton and Y/n Featherington.” – he presented. Brimsley stepped aside, revealing the two of you to the queen.
Both of you forced out a smile, walking up to her. The queen narrowing her eyes. Colin and you dropped to one knee in front of her throne. – “So you two are engaged to be married?” – the queen asked, petting her dog on her lap. – “Yes, your majesty.” – Colin answered, keeping his head down. The queen hummed intrigued.
You exhaled soft, feeling your hand started to get sweaty in his hand. – “I give you both my blessing.” – she called out as it made you swallow nervously. Colin and you rose, meeting up with the queen’s gaze. – “Be off my little love birds.” – she chuckled, sending Colin and you off with her blessing. Colin and you spun, heading back for the door. Your smiled immediately dropped once the queen wasn’t looking.
The doors opened once more as Colin and you walked through. Hearing the doors shut behind you, you immediately pulled your hand out of his. Colin rubbed his hand annoyed against his pants. – “Must you really get so sweaty.” – he called out. – “Must you really be so infuriating.” – you responded. – “Infuriating?” – Colin said loud in disbelief. – “Oh that is nice coming from you!” – he answered walking up to you.
The two of you continued to bicker while going down the corridor to leave the palace. Portia and Violet giving each other a sheepish smile. – “Children.” – Violet teased with humour to bloom the reality of it. Portia snapped her fan open, waving herself some cool. Colin and you had been bickering the entire carriage ride at how more infuriating the other one was.
The wedding was by the end of the week. Which should be a day of delight and bliss to many was not the case for you. You simply wanted this day to be over so you didn’t have to play pretend for the ton anymore. Colin’s family tried to be supportive, knowing he was doing the family a great help by marrying you. Normally they wouldn’t condone it, but faith left them otherwise. Colin had lost a great deal of money to your money seeking uncle.
His family couldn’t have prevented him from investing. Something Colin thought would bring prospects, for it did not. It turned out to be a sham. A fraud. When your mama found out, she turned him the door. Yet it was already too late. He disappeared along with some money. A bit including of the Bridgerton’s. Colin’s failed investment took a bite in their coins. The best way to ease the gap a bit was a marriage between Bridgertons and Featheringtons.
The coins from your dowry could ease the pain a bit. Smooth a bit things over with the Bridgertons. The two of you found a home in the Featherington estate further downtown. More secluded. An estate your family used to retreat to during the winters. Since you weren’t the eldest, the house would go to man married your eldest sister.
Colin and you arrived at the house. – “I’ll be upstairs and I do not wish to see you for the entirety of the evening.” – he called out already moving towards the stairs. – “Fine, for I do not wish to see you for the entirety of the evening!” – you shouted back. – “Wonderful!” – Colin said loud, throwing his hand up as he went up the spiralling stairs. – “Your quarters are at the left!” – you instructed him. Colin grunted soft disappearing upstairs.
You turned round, screaming loud to out your distress. You then went upstairs to the quarters on the right. The staff remaining quiet as it was not their place to intervene. Some shared a brief look, knowing it didn’t feel like you would legitimate the marriage soon. Not whilst you were still bickering. You let yourself fall onto the bed, screaming and punching your pillow. Angry at your uncle for ripping off the Bridgerton’s which led you into needing to marry Colin Bridgerton. 
A Bridgerton you loathed. Colin groaned loud, pacing round the room. He grabbed for a pillow, throwing it against the window out of frustration. Why did he had to invest in your uncle’s mines? His speech seemed so pleasingly. He thought for sure he’d get a fortune out of it. The only thing he got out of it was a marriage to you. Someone he loathed.
The sun rose as the staff was already buzzing about. For weeks now, you have been trying to avoid Colin for as much as you could around the house. Each doing your own things during the day, even when it bored you from time to time. There weren’t enough activities around the house to keep you company. You stumbled into the drawing room where to your misfortune Colin was too. Seeing him, made you sigh soft. Colin lifted his head up from behind his newspaper, lowering it.
“I shall leave.” – he spoke folding his newspaper to give you, your space. – “No, please do stay.” – you acted out with a curtsy. Colin slapped the newspaper annoyed on the small table. The door opened behind you, a maid entering with a tray. On the tray laid several letters neatly spread out. She moved past you to give the letters to Colin as he was man of the house now.
You snatched the letters from the tray before they could reach him. The maid looked confused at her empty tray. Bowing her head as she left the room once more. – “Y/n those are for me.” – Colin stated, holding his hand out. – “Am I not the lady of the house?” – you answered, looking through the post. Colin walked up to you in a firm pace, wanting to snatch the letters from you.
You turned away, keeping the letters out of his reach. – “Y/n!” – Colin let out loud. Colin grabbed your wrist, pulling it hard in front of him, ripping some letters from your hand. – “I loath you!” – you called out, slapping the remaining letters against his chest. – “I loath you!” – Colin repeated, slapping his letters against your chest. It made you gasp as you didn’t think he’d hit you back. – “I loathed you first!” – you made clear.
Colin and you stared intensely at each other. Glaring up in each other’s face. Colin looked away first, glancing down at the letters in his hand. He sighed loud seeing what kind of post was amongst them. He threw them frustratedly into the sofa. He then shouted loud, hands desperate in his hands.
“Colin!” – you called out wanting him to calm down. He inhaled sharp, wiping his hand over his face. – “If this wasn’t an economic proposition, I swear.” – he said loud. – “Hadn’t your family put me into debts, I wouldn’t be scrambling for coins to make a living!”
“Don’t bring my family into this!” – you replied loud, frustrated that he would blame this all on you. You had no idea and it was after all he who placed an investment with your uncle. – “Alright not your uncle who caused me to marry you!” – Colin shouted loud. – “I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance!” – you screamed out as Colin grew silent. Staring at you in shock. – “No more!” – you let out with a dismissive gesture.
Panting loud at your little outburst. Colin turned his head a bit away. – “Well that was rather direct.” – he said, taken back by the intensity of your voice. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, you let yourself fall into an armchair. Head throbbing with a headache the fight. It might have been the biggest fight Colin and you endured. Colin went over to the letters, picking them up from the ground. He then returned to you, coming to sit beside you.
He opened the first letter, reading it out loud for you. His reading made you sit more upright and lean in to read the letter along with him. Colin and you opened every letter one by one, calmly discussing what to reply or how to manage your coins. Both seemingly calmed down and too worn out from the fight to continue bickering.
It was like this outburst needed to happen for Colin and you matched on a different level of understanding after that. The marriage was necessary, the best you could do was make it is comfortable as one could. Despite growing closer to each other, there still wasn’t any physical contact.
No hugs, no kisses and certainly not legitimating the marriage. Colin and you managed to find a lifestyle suitable enough for the income you had now. There were prospects for it increasing, but that took time.
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The carriage came to a stop as Colin got out. He offered you his arm as you took it to get out. – “I cannot believe Francesca is already debuting.” – you said unable to grasp how quickly she was growing up. Colin hummed soft, keeping your hand on his arm. – “I’m sure Anthony will have his hands full with now both Eloise and Francesca this season.” – Colin replied as he guided you inside. One of the doormen took your coat.
The warmth of the estate wrapping around your skin. The doorman gestured for you to head further. Colin and you arrived at another door. – “Do I look alright?” – you asked him as it was your first time out on a ball ever since the wedding. Colin turned to you, holding your chin with his thumb. – “You look wonderful.” – he replied, with a soft smile.
The doors opened as it startled Colin and you. Everyone at the ball, stared at the display. Colin cleared his throat lowering his hand on you. He took your hand, guiding you inside. Portia nudged Violet teasingly. – “What did I say.” – she whispered to Violet. Violet smiled, hopeful her son found happiness after all.
You joined the Bridgertons, hugging Violet. – “How are you feeling Francesca?” – you questioned seeing her look frightful with big eyes around. – “Bit overwhelmed.” Francesca answered in a quiet voice. – “Colin.” – Anthony called out, motioning with his head for his brother to follow. Colin gently removed your hand from his arm, following his brother to a more secluded area.
Kate wrapped her arm around you. – “A drink Y/n?” – she proposed. – “Yes please.” – you answered. Kate led you through the crowd to the staff was walking around with drinks. – “How are Colin and you?” – she asked, watching the dancers a bit. – “Quite alright.” – you answered with a smile. – “That is wonderful to hear.” – Kate filled in as she noticed a tray with glasses. She let go of your arm, taking two glasses, handing one to you.
Both of you took a sip, watching the dancers. – “Anthony?” – Kate said confused seeing her husband appear, making his way over to her. – “I simply must dance with you.” – he said taking her hand. Kate gave you a pleasing smile, handing her drink over to you before Anthony could steal her away. – “Well where is Colin?” – you called out, yet Anthony didn’t reply. Too focused on wanting to dance with his wife.
With a soft exhale, you emptied your glass with a few breaths. Turning around you placed your empty and Kate’s still full glass back on the tray. Bouncing a bit on your feet, you looked around for any sign of your husband. – “Miss Bridgerton.” – a man’s voice spoke from behind you. It made you turn your head in surprise. A lord came standing extremely close to you, his fingers trailing inches away from your arm upwards.
“Where is your husband?” – he asked looking briefly away to the people. – “He will be here shortly.” – you lied as the lord kept gazing at you. Making you a bit nervous. – “Such a shame he left you all alone.”  - the lord began standing half in front of you. – “A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn’t be left alone.” – he added as you were stunned by his approach around you.
“My husband is looking for me.” – you said making steps to leave his side. A grip around your wrist, kept you from going any further, making you gasp. – “He’ll find you soon enough.” – he tugged at your wrist, pulling you back at him. – “Perhaps a dance while we wait?” – he proposed.
“Lord Thomas!” – the voice made you turn your head in shock. Colin approaching the man with his hands behind his back. He came by your side, taking the lord’s hand, throwing it off yours. – “Flirting with a married woman?” – Colin spoke judgingly. – “My wife for that matter.” – he added with a glare. Colin let his hand glide in yours, holding it in a firm grip. His stare stern and full of anger. – “We’re leaving.” – Colin called out, pulling you away from the lord.
“But… Co…colin your family… Francesca?” – you said between breaths while you tried to keep up with his pace. – “They need our support.” – you told him, looking over your shoulder to his family somewhere in the crowd. Colin led you outside, calling the carriage over. The carriage pulled over as he pushed you inside. It made you squeal soft, positioning yourself better before your husband joined in.
The carriage got in motion as it wobbled. – “Colin?” – you asked confused, wanting to know what overcame him to simply call it a night. – “Your brothers expect our support for your sisters.” – you reminded him. Noticing how hungrily Colin was staring at you. He groaned deep, setting himself off as he moved across. Cupping your cheeks as he forced his lips onto yours.
Eyes shot wide as his lips trailed yours. Kissing yours desperate and hungrily. Colin retrieved his lips, panting loud in your mouth. He let himself fall back across to his bench as he took you with him. Still cupping your cheeks. You dropped onto his lap as he pulled your legs open over his lap.
His eyes gazed back at you, till they went up. Taking out one of your pins so most of your hair fell down. Exhaling in your mouth, he drew you closer again. The hotness of his lips on yours. It made you grab onto his shoulders, pressing your fingers into him. With one motion of his finger, he tilted your chin up. Hands on your bottom as he pushed you slightly higher.
A soft gasp escaping your mouth as he started to kiss your neck. Trailing down to your bosom. Panting loud against your skin in between hot kisses. Colin let his hand trail up your neck, pushing your head back. Kissing your exposed neck deeper. The carriage wobbled as Colin had to push his hand out to the side, to keep his balance.
Looking down at him, you breathed out loud, curling up a smile. He did the same, grabbing you again. You leaned down, kissing him hard. With admiration he looked up to you. You kissed Colin once more as he finally claimed you as his wife. Who knew it only took one flirty lord for him to finally admit he loved you.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  
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lev1hei1chou · 2 days
Text
Photobooth Session
Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo goes into a photobooth with you Masterlist
"Come on, Y/N, let's try the photobooth!" Gojo's enthusiasm was contagious as he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you towards the colorful contraption stationed at the corner of the arcade.
You couldn't help but laugh at his excitement. "Alright, alright, let's go!"
Inside the booth, you both squeezed in, Gojo nearly knocking his head against the ceiling in his eagerness. The machine whirred to life as the countdown began, and you both prepared for your first pose.
"Ready?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.
"Born ready," Gojo replied, flashing you a grin.
"Smile!" You said, but Gojo had other plans. He pulled a ridiculous face, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.
Laughing, you playfully shoved him. "Seriously, babe?"
He shrugged, a grin on his face.
As the next photo snapped, you decided to up the ante. You pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses from your bag and donned them, striking a pose like a movie star. He followed suit, finding a pair of neon-colored shutter shades and putting them on upside down.
The subsequent photos were a blur of laughter and silliness as you both posed in increasingly ridiculous ways. From pretending to be superheroes to doing exaggerated dance moves, there was no shortage of creativity in the tiny booth.
But as the camera counted down for the next shot, something changed. Gojo's expression shifted, his eyes softening as he leaned in closer.
Before you could react, his lips met yours in a gentle kiss, the flash capturing the moment for eternity.
Surprised but pleasantly so, you melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. The booth seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of affection.
When you finally pulled apart, the booth's mechanical voice announced the end of the photo session, but neither of you moved. Lost in each other's gaze, you couldn't help but smile.
"Well, that was unexpected," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
With a playful roll of your eyes, you leaned in to kiss him again, this time initiating it yourself. The booth may have captured the moment, but it couldn't capture the warmth in your heart as you shared this intimate exchange with the person you loved.
"Best photobooth session ever," you declared, tucking the strip of photos into your wallet.
Gojo grinned, pulling you into a tight hug. "Definitely. But you know what's even better?"
"What?" you asked, already knowing the answer.
"Getting to spend moments like these with you," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
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puppy-steve · 16 hours
Text
don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up
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"steeeeeve harrington."
eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.
eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."
steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.
"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"
he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.
steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.
"i miss you so much, sweetheart."
steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.
it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.
there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.
"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."
steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.
"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.
he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.
"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."
the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.
mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.
"hey, babydoll."
at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.
"hi, baby. i got your message."
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fairy-hub · 2 days
Note
glory h0le w jjk men 🙏🏻🙏🏻
yes yes yes yes!!! 🥵🥵 To be treated and passed around like a groly hole after you lose a bet and become the house sex toy for a month. At any time of day they use your mouth, cunt or ass like a glory hole.
What a dream that would be to live with Toji, Sukuna, Suguru, Choso and Satoru with all of them coming to you to take care of their hard cocks.
Everytime you are on the sofa, their are either fondling you, resting their hand between your legs sometimes fingering you other times just letting their hand rest over your pussy. Other times one of them are pulling you on his lap
Your pussy would stay wet with them walking around half naked or naked. Since everyone knows what each other looks like after the amount of times they have run a train on you together.
Them all taking a turn cumming inside your cunt or ass, the plugging up both holes so you can keep the cum inside for a little while.
The degradation/objectification as you become a sex toy for them would be insane and then followed by such soft aftercarez. Suguru, Choso and Satoru would give the softest aftercare in the order
Giving you a mask to blindfold you with so you can guess whose cock is who since you’ve been their glory hole for so long you should be able to tell who is fucking your cunt. If you get it right you get to cum, if not they edge you till they cum inside you and switch out with the next guy
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shurisneakers · 2 days
Text
paper man
warnings: angst, no sad ending, talks of death. unedited drabble that was written in 20 minutes.
a/n: i wanted angst and couldn't find any so i did this myself. will this make it onto my masterlist? who knows. it's 11pm and i have mary by big thief playing. my cat is yelling at me and really killing the sad girl vibe i got going. why does bucky look like a used car salesman in thunderbolts. whatever. love u guys
word count: 660
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“If I die tomorrow,” he starts, eyes still staring into the TV.
Your eyebrow quirks. “You're not going to die tomorrow. We're going bowling.”
“If I die tomorrow,” Bucky repeats, and you know he's not with you. He's wandering around the morning fog and thickets of his mind, arm stuck out while he meanders inside a labyrinth.
It's late. He's right on time. You know from experience that his thoughts don't belong to him after the sun sets.
“I–” he begins, and then his mouth clamps shut again.
From across the couch, you shoot him a glance that hopefully conveys understanding. Fast food wrappers litter the worn leather, hurdles between the both of you.
“I don't have a will,” he finally manages to get out.
You let out an exhale, soft.
“Let's make one now?” you offer.
Through his mist, he looks at you. Eyes the way it would be if you tried staring into the sun. Mouth tired, shoulders so low it sinks into dirt.
“I'll write it on my phone. We can do something about it in the morning,” you continue.
Bucky turns back to the TV, and the mindless chatter of late night commercials fills in the silence you leave in your wake.
He could die tomorrow. So could you. So could everyone you knew. It was an occupational hazard you thought he'd made his peace with.
Your phone lies beside you, and you're honestly a little embarrassed that your suggestion was shot down.
Most days you don't know what he needs. Admittedly, he doesn't either. Sometimes slow kisses with his back pressed up against the headboard does the trick. Other days….well, you don't know. He never lets you see those.
You can't blame him. What you both had with each other found a description in the quiet and the twilight. You hadn't even really spent the night in his room.
“I don't have anythin’ to leave,” his voice comes out like gravel, snapping you out of the pit you wanted to dig yourself. “That's the thing. If I die tomorrow, I don't have anythin' to my name. Nothin’ that matters anyway.”
His gaze shifts downward ever so slightly. If the TV wasn't illuminating his face in a pale sickly yellow, you'd see that his cheeks were burning red. His throat feels like it's folded in on itself.
“You got people to leave things for?” you ask, watching him keenly.
He catches your eye, sending a jolt through you. You shift awkwardly on the couch.
“Think so,” he says solemnly. It reads more like a question, with the way he observes you.
“Okay.” You nod. “Then we'll find you things.”
His eyebrows knit together, deepening the crease between them.
“I don't know where to start.” His words sound raw, like a croak.
You watch his head duck again. His body is stiff, and he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.
You look around the room, but your eyes land on the paper remains of your dinner. A thought crossed your mind, and you hesitate.
Bucky is too busy trying to see through thick trees and fog. It stretches above him so tall, taking away even what little sunlight crawls through the leaves.
The couch dips next to him and he's snapped out his labyrinth for a second.
Your hand is held out for his. It comes so naturally that he doesn't even remember stretching his palm out to meet yours.
You drop a tiny paper man onto his metal hand. It's twisted together from a napkin and its mangled limbs are uneven.
“Just a place to start,” you tell him softly.
Bucky stares at it while you inch back to your place.
While you shift the channel to something less repetitive and tedious, his fingers wrap around the origami project.
The fog fades in the light of the morning. The trees look a little less daunting.
He's got people to leave things for.
And a tiny paper man.
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