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#prompt: laced drink
bwere · 6 days
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SUKUNA R. LITTLE MISS SECRETARY
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DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT MASTERLIST
sukuna ryomen. notorious for firing his secretaries left and right—and despite the constant doting from your peers’ of this, you apply for an interview. if he wont take assurance in your words, what better way than to prove them—right?
warnings: modern!au, ceo!au, creampię, pssy eating, slight spnking, degradation, seduction, mentions of bawls, raw-doggin’, semi-exhibitionism, deęp-throating, filthy smut. not proofread entirely, may seem repetitive until updated.
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[11:00am]
Ryomen Sukuna, infamous for firing his secretaries without regard for their backgrounds or talents. Their appearance—whether pretty or plain—held no sway; if Sukuna disagreed, they were promptly shown the door. 
Gojo leaned back in his chair. Shoes kicked up on the table, rocking his weight to make the chair aloft above the floor in the slightest - before it clunks back down. "Are you sure you're up for this? You do know his secretaries don't even last a week before they're fired, right?"
"Or quit." Geto chimed in with an obnoxious slurp of his drink.
Gojo shrugged. "Exactly my point, even if he does hire you—I'd give it like a week tops."
It wasn’t as if you didn’t know–you were more than aware. And still, you chose to ignore their crude remarks. 
Shoko, who had been silently observing the interaction, finally interjected. Her voice, a soothing balm, countered the mounting concern. "Gentlemen," she asserted, "I think our friend has had her fill of the negativity you keep putting in her head." 
"Thank you, Shoko." You retorted, emphasizing her name with a sigh that mingled thankfulness with a teasing nuance.
"But I'm- you knoww, juust curious," Shoko persisted, her eyes searching yours for an answer. “What makes you want to take up the role of a secretary for him?”
Your friends' questioning looks prompted a brief moment of reflection. Why indeed? The challenge, the thrill, the chance to prove yourself? You knew the answer, but articulating it seemed more discouraging than facing the notorious Ryomen Sukuna himself.
Ryomen Sukuna, a name that sent tremors down spines, loomed large in the headlines. And here you were, recommended for a position under him. Why did you persist, knowing the outcome was likely to remain unchanged?
Your reputation as an efficient secretary preceded you, effortlessly navigating past employers. Your serious organization and unwavering commitment to schedules impressed every employer you’ve worked for. 
Much like any employer, they clung to their stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge your skills or consider promoting you. 
Why? Pure greed.
To make matters worse, you were never compensated fairly for keeping their businesses afloat. Instead, your hard work was consistently overlooked, and someone else often claimed credit for your accomplishments.
You begin to speak, recounting your past experiences, your friends gather around, hanging on every word. "Well, each of my previous bosses had their quirks. Mr. Tanaka was all about efficiency. He'd have me schedule his meetings back-to-back, with no breaks. Taught me how to manage a tight calendar."
Shoko sighed. "Sounds exhausting."
You continued, "Yup. Then there was Ms. Sato. Brilliant mind, but her focus skills were...lacking.”
Geto chuckled, “That’s a bit brutal, isn’t it? No mercy from you, I see.” 
Gojo’s infectious barks of laughter echoes through the coffee shop, turning heads as patrons look over in frowns. “Ouch!” he cries out, feigning injury as Shoko’s elbow connects with a harsh nudge.
“Welll…it’s just that, I practically ran the office for her. It's pretty much where I learned to foresee everyone's needs and you know, take initiative."
"And Oh! Let's not forget Mr. Yamada," you spoke up with a huff. 
“Uh Oh, not Mr. Yamada…” Gojo mocks teasingly, faking a dramatic gasp as he throws his hands in the air.
“Ah, yes Mr. Yamada,” you play along with Gojo’s theatrics, your voice laced with mock solemnity. “He was such a stickler for details. I’m talking—everything had to be perfect from reports to the scuffs on my shoes... So much that perfection became my middle name, if I must add.”
Gojo laughed. "He sounds more controlling than anything."
"More or less," you affirmed. "Though, each one taught me something valuable. That's why I think I can handle Mr. Ryomen. He's just another challenge to overcome." 
Your friends shared glances, their expressions a blend of respect and worry. They understood the futility of doubting your capabilities. Your reputation for transforming challenges into triumphs was well-established.
“T’ah, Indeed, it would be a poor decision on his part to let you go,” Geto concurred, not once doubting your value.
“More like he’d be a serious idiot if he did.” Gojo said, his eyes rolling comically in a show of hatred for the entire idea.
“Besides,” you added with a smirk, “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. And Mr. Ryomen? He’s the Everest of bosses. Conquering that peak would be quite the resume highlight, don’t you think?”
Shoko’s giggles joined the chorus of agreement. “Truly, if there’s someone who can manage the notorious Sukuna, it’s you.” 
Eventually, the conversation dove through a tapestry of topics, the cafe becoming a cocoon of your shared jokes and light-hearted banter. 
Time, on the other hand—had places to be. 
As your eyes landed on the plastic clock perched near the register. The benign ticking was a stark reminder that the afternoon’s grace period had expired, stabbing you back as remembrance of your planned afternoon kicked in.
“Oh my gosh- that clock right? Is it 11:30 already?” Your drink almost tipping over as you leaped to your feet.
Shoko’s eyes mirrored your alarm. “Isn’t your interview scheduled for 12?” 
“Yes! How could it slip my mind?” A rush of urgency overtook you as you snatched up your belongings, the voices of your friends merging into a symphony of encouragement and last-minute tips as you dashed through the door and made a beeline for your car.
“Knock em’ dead!!"
[11:35am]
The name ‘COMPANY REP’ plastered on your phone’s lock screen, peering over as your phone flashed through your peripheral view. Feeling a wave of pressure as you read the name, it was Uraume, the representative for Ryomen. 
Shit—you were still a good distance from the company’s location, about an exit to be precise. 
Grabbing your phone from the cup holder, you tapped the green icon to answer. Uraume’s voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello, I’m just checking in about your interview for the secretary role at noon.”
You rose back from the steering wheel, as if it's inscribed in your memory to adopt a more formal posture as the cacophony of honking horns invaded the air around you. “Hello,” you responded, keeping your voice cheerful and composed.
“I’m on my way right now; I got caught up in a lunch rush.” You chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “But I promise, I’ll be there.”
“Very well,” the representative said, their voice smooth. “I’ll be waiting by the elevator on the top floor when you arrive.” 
Soon after, the line went dead, leaving you with an itching sense of anxiety. 
For a moment, the thought of 'accidentally' skipping the next exit crossed your mind and boy did it sound good right about now.
But could you honestly deny the interest that lit within you? What might lay beyond those translucent doors—an opportunity for a fresh start, perhaps? Or was it the hand of destiny at play? Regardless, you stood ready for whatever awaited you.
[11:57am]
The clock in your head seemed to tick impatiently as you rushed toward the imposing glass doors of the corporation. Your interview was scheduled for noon, and you were already cutting it dangerously close.
You dashed through the revolving doors, the sound of your heels punctuating the quiet of the marble lobby. Approaching the front desk, as you requested a temporary ID pass. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the secretary position interview at 12 p.m.”
“Oh yeah! Uraume mentioned your appointment. Here’s your guest pass. The elevator to your left will take you straight to the top floor,” the receptionist replied. 
“Thank you kindly,” you responded with a gracious smile. 
“No problem, I’ll inform Uraume that you’re on your way up.” she added.
Pass in hand, you pivoted toward the elevator. The cool marble underfoot seemed to resonate with the flutter of nerves within you. The rhythmic click of your heels on the stone served as a metronome to your thoughts, each step a beat closer to a potentially life-changing interview. 
The elevator was a sleek, modern contraption, its steel doors reflecting your anxious expression. You pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, you were enclosed in a small, quiet world. The only sound was the tinny melody of the elevator, a constant drone that mirrored your heart's unkempt thump. 
As the elevator climbed, thoughts tumbled through your mind. Was stepping into this role the correct move? With the odds stacked against success, what made you different? Doubts swirled in your mind, each one more insistent than the last.
Soon, the elevator came to a lurching stop, and you were pulled from your thoughts. As doors slid open, you were greeted by the sight of Uraume, whose presence was like a beacon, cutting through the fog of your doubts. 
Well shit, no turning back now.
Emerging from the elevator your eyes met with Uraume’s. Their face gave nothing away, yet their voice carried a note of caution. "I’d advise you to mind your words with Mr. Ryomen. He has little patience for ignorance."
You hummed with a tentative nod, you seemed to be endlessly made aware of Mr. Ryomen's reputation. Especially since your friends found out you were going to this interview—not a second went by where they didn’t bring it up. You felt as if you understood more than anyone how some barely lasted a day.
With a determined pep in your step, you proceeded down the dimly lit corridor, Uraume's silent presence a step behind.
Mr. Ryomen or rather—Sukuna, was a man of striking features, no doubt. His salmon-colored hair was always impeccably styled, and his piercing eyes held an intensity that could make anyone’s heart prone to failure. His sharp jawline was accentuated by a usually neatly shaven face, and his tailored suits always seemed too tight around his muscular build. He carried an air of authority and charisma that was both intimidating and captivating.
His allure extended beyond mere aesthetics. As one of the nation's elite CEOs, his reputation was built on groundbreaking tactics and bold leadership. His guidance propelled the company to new heights of prosperity and influence, cementing its status as a powerhouse in the business world.
Sukuna’s popularity was not just about his charisma either; it was his professional acumen that had everyone vying for his attention. Aspiring candidates flocked, eager for the chance to bask in his aura and absorb his energy. Expectably, they fell short. Sukuna’s expectations seemed to soar to stratospheric levels, ones that even NASA would find daunting to align with.
And you’d be lying if you didn’t find yourself wondering what it could be like by his side. Waking up everyday with a pool in your panties—because you’d get to see your attractive boss calling your name by his side with need. 
As Sukuna’s success and influence grew, so did his reluctance to admit the need for support. The absence of a secretary began to take its toll on the productivity of his team, especially his representative’s. 
Snapping you out of your thoughts as Uraume halted just before Sukuna’s office door. “Good luck,” they offered, before making their way back to the elevator. You adjusted your form-fitting dress, a mix of poise and nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knocked with a dense one, two - three on the door.
"You may enter."
[12:02pm]
As you step into his office, the reality of the situation settles in. 
Here was the man who had graced countless headlines, a visionary whose name was synonymous with success. Though, as terrifyingly lurking as the prospect was, you were determined to not just be another face in the crowd.
This was your chance, the moment of truth. Most of which people never got.
As your gaze met his, there was an undeniable pull towards the depth of his eyes, a fierce intensity that held a world of ambition and insight.
It's as if his gaze was trying to unravel you, like pieces of a puzzle, but you don't let it.
Sukuna sat there, the very picture of corporate elegance, his presence commanding the space around him. His scent, bespoke and expensive, filled the room with an air of dominance, while his hair, a striking shade of muted pink with whispers of black, framing his face perfectly.
Your heart races, but not out of fear – no, it's exhilaration. This is what you’ve prepared for, all those late nights, every challenging task, every impossible deadline you’ve made possible.
He caught you in the act of admiring him, a knowing smirk proud on his lips. "Enjoyin’ the view?" he tugs, before his expression shifted to one of business-like seriousness. "Uraume has mentioned your potential. It’d be best not to waste that." 
The challenge was set, and the interview began.
“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. “I’ve always believed in simplicity.”
His eyebrow arched. “Simplicity?”
“Yes,” you said, leaning forward. “Complexity often masks inefficiency. A straightforward approach can yield remarkable results.”
He leaned back, intrigued. “Most people stumble over their words when they meet me.”
“You’ll find…” you begin, holding his gaze with unwavering poise, “that I’m not one to follow the common trend.”
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “That remains to be seen.”
For the next few minutes, the interview wove through a conversation of intellect and subtlety. You navigated his inquiries with finesse, sidestepped the snares he laid, and even managed to steal a laugh from him. As time ticked on, a frisson of worry tinged your nerves, Uraume's cautionary words a distant murmur.
Sukuna's voice, a resonant timbre, stirred the air. His incisive gaze seemed to dissect your very thoughts. "Enlighten me, what makes you believe you deserve the job of working for me?"
You inhaled deeply, your reply sulking in assurance, "Mr. Ryomen, my expertise aligns perfectly with your needs. And when it comes to managing your expectations," you trailed, a sly smile plastering on your lips, "I have a knack for exceeding them in the most unexpected ways."
His eyes locked with yours, unwavering. "You're confident you're the one?"
"Without a doubt," you affirmed. "It's often the unassuming key that unlocks the door to brilliance."
He reclined, a contemplative shadow crossing his features. His stare never faltered. "You have a way with words," he observed, a trace of vindication in his voice.
"However, words alone are commonplace. Tell me, how will you demonstrate that you're more than just a woman with commendable references?"
You collected your thoughts, your confidence unshaken. "Mr. Ryomen," you began, your tone imbued with conviction, "I'm a believer in the showance of action. Grant me the chance, and I assure you, my performance will not only meet but eclipse your…high standards."
Wonder sparked in his eyes, a subtle smile embarking at the corners of his mouth. "Oh?" he intoned, the word hanging in the air, ripe with expectation. "Well then, I await the proof of your claims, Miss…?" His tone dipped, a whisper of question in the quiet space between you.
"Think of me as your right hand, Mr. Ryomen," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "I'm here to ensure that your every need is met, with precision and a personal touch."
His gaze was unyielding, tracking your every movement, a longing in the depths of his eyes. He observed you closely, a silent notice of your boldness. The air between you was charged, a palpable tension that spoke volumes more than words ever could. 
Without waiting for a response, you motion around the desk. Circling the desk with calculated steps, you maintained eye contact, now before him. Mere inches away from his face—the moment was ripe with possibility, the beginning of a partnership that could redefine the very essence of collaboration. 
And slowly, you begin to unbutton your dress, exposing a bra with lace details that drew attention to your tender breasts. 
"I'll be your right hand in the office," you murmur, letting your dress slide off your shoulders, just barely baring your smooth, supple skin. "And your left hand..." You trace his strong jawline with your fingers, savoring the slight stubble. "...whenever you crave a touch of pleasure."
Sukuna's eyes darken in covetous as he sinks in your intentions. "Impressive initiative, but it'll take more than that to convince me, beautiful. I have very specific requirements and expectations that need to be met."
Unpersuaded, you choose to escalate your lure on him. Feeling the firmness of his growing erection pressing against your thighs, you straddle his lap. Your grin - sluggish, your folds damp with elation in your panties as you hush, "I plan to take care of all of your needs, Mr. Ryomen. Actually—I intend to surpass them."
[12:30pm]
His breath retracted, as you pressed your soft breasts against his pecs and began to undo his suit jacket, exposing his toned, muscular chest. 
Your fingers trailed down his warm skin, sending goosebumps through his body as you explicitly avoided the growing bulge in his slacks.
“Mmm, Mr. Ryomenn—I know you’re aching," you murmur, your fingertips tantalizingly weaving over his torso. "And I have just the perfect remedy to alleviate that stress. Shall I show you?"
Sukuna nods in agreement, his eyes broadening, feeling a surge of lust that leaves him thirsty. The curiosity about your limits conquering over his mind.
You slip off his lap, your body slithering to the floor on your knees, your lips forming up into an enticing grin. With slow, careful manuvers, you undo his belt and unzip his fly, peeling the material back to release his thick, hard cock. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in the sight of his length, throbbing with urgent need.
You take the tip into your comforting, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, tasting the sweet dribbles of pre-cum. Humming with delight, sending vibrations through his core as you take in more of him, sucking gently.
Sukuna's eyes just want to roll back in pure pleasure—a deep groan escaping his lips. "Mnh, is that tha’ best you can do?" His right hand rests atop your head, ghostingly guiding you as to respect your pace.
It’s all just motivation, as you suck harder, taking him deeper until your eyes start to water from the intensity. You hollow your cheeks; as you take him the deepest you can go with a gag. Your head bobs up and down, your hands gently cupping his heavy balls.
"That's ittt—suck me, show me how bad y’wanna be m’ lil secretary," he grunts, his hips thrusting in rhythm with your mouth. "That fuckin’ mouth s’gon’ be the death of me."
Your actions are fueled by his words, whining in return as your thighs rub together nothing but static—yearning for some attention. You slip a hand through your panties, slipping a finger in your aching cunt, feening for your own release.
He observes the scene below him, almost studying as you multitask your way through the pleasure. Ensuring not a single strand of his clothing gets into contact with the filthy mix of your saliva and his pre-cum. Admiring the way you finger your dependent pussy, all the while taking him so deep down your throat, managing to slobber down to the base of his cock and swallow everything back up like it never existed. 
You take pride in your work, and he was now experiencing it. In fact, if anything it turned him on more. He might even have to make you his toy if you kept on. 
Sensing you're close to the edge, Sukuna suddenly pulls his cock out of your throat with a disgusting pop. His cock now drenched in fluids from your lovely torment. “Aht aht, Strip.”
You obey his orders without hesitation, his eyes roaming your body as you strip. Visibly tracing every curve in your silhouette. Fantasizing the things you might have in store for him, his dick twitches against his skin, swelling more and more each second. 
“There y’go, stick that ass out f’me.” He stares at you - appetizingly, becoming ravenous at the way you're already hunched over his handcrafted mahogany desk. 
In a matter of seconds, purely to provide him a better view.
You braced your weight on the edges of the cold surface. Pressed palms onto the glossy wood—hypnotizing him as you began to squirm your ass in his direction. 
"Like this, Mr. Ryomen?" you spoke as if you were completely innocent, your lashes moving in a way that made it appear like you weren't attempting to play coy.
Maybe in another universe he’d fall for it—but not in this one. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that only makes your pussy wetter. "You jus’ keep gettin’ sluttier and sluttier, huh?" 
He snakes his veiny hand between your legs, thanks to the pad of his thumb, he prods at your delicate clit, reaching a soft whimper out of your throat. You attempt to clamp your legs together, but his big hands keep them apart as he proceeds to drive two of his fingers deep in you—instantaneously, without any delay.
"You’r so fuckin’ wet f’me." He taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "You like that, don' you?" His fingers slide in and out, his thumb continuously twisting at your burning clit.
"Y-Yes Sir…" you cry out, your body becoming weaker under his touch. 
"Sukuna." He cuts off with a sinister chuckle, "Call me Sukuna."
You nod frantically, your hips doing all the talking as you mindlessly drag onto the lengths of his fingers. Grinning wolfishly, he moves his thumb in slow circles, working your clit. "Well, aren't you just a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes?"
"Oh my fuck- it feels so good nmmh!" you breathe out, panting heavily.
“Yeah? I bet.” he laughs, adding a third finger, stretching you out deliciously.
He drove his fingers sickeningly deep into you, your pussy canal squeezing around them, seeking for more.
His persistent botherence made you gasp for air as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna leaned in, his lips coming into contact with your neck, delivering a forceful bite.
“Mngh–Kuna’ ts’ hurts! P-please I wan’uh cuhm..!-” You cried out, arching your back—grinding your ass further against him in advance.
His fingers gradually came to a quit as he withdrew from your neck.
Your expression crumbling at his actions, “Please- don’ stop.” 
But Sukuna doesn't let you have it. He pulls his fingers out of you completely—just as you're prepared to dive over the edge, leaving you empty and writhing in dissatisfaction. 
He then raised them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. He savored the taste with an exaggerated moan, letting out a contented sigh.
“You’re so fucking mmhn- delicious.” he murmured.
“Please…”
Sukuna's lips formed a sadistic smile as he lowly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Please what?"
You picked at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs rubbing together like two wet sticks trying to starting a fire. Your pussy begged for more. "Please...fuck me.." you pleaded, your voice trembling.
"Not yet," Sukuna shook his head. "Get on the desk."
You hastily climb onto the desk, heeding to his instructions to avoid wasting any more unnecessary time. Relishing the brash feeling of the cold wood fatally against your back. 
You’re embarrassingly exposed now—wide open for the man in front of you. The same man who’s about to search for your soul with his mouth. The same man who doesn’t plan on quitting until your dignities on his tongue–that is, if you had any left. 
"Goood girl." He smirks, kneeling down between your legs. Forcefully restricting you from closing your legs as he peels them apart. You can feel the cool air of the room on your wet pussy. Shivering in anticipation as he darts his tongue out. Exploring every inch of your folds as he sucks them apart with hunger. 
You possess handfuls of his hair—overflowing around your fingers, moaning as you draw him in suffocatingly. Fleeing your fingers through his strands rougher—when he hits - that spot.
"Mnghm–you’re sh’o fuckin tasty aren’tcha?" he whispers against your clit.
“Hnn…!” Unable to speak or barely catch your breath, you can feel your orgasm building again so easily, except this time you're not going to let him stop you. 
He runs his tongue over your clit—your fingertips tightening in his hair as you hold him in place. 
You feel his stubble graze your inner thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds, making you needier. He provokes your desperate shouts for more - laughing at how the octaves in your voice only seem to keep raising. But you can't help the moan that escapes your lips when his tongue flicks over your clit.
"Fuck, Sukuna…s’too m-much..!" you breathe. 
He’s good—too good at this. 
He chuckles against your cunt. His fingers digging snug into your thighs, holding you down as he continues to entice you, not once letting up for air.
“Yeah? Mgnh, s’that why r’you grippin’ m’ hair so fuckin’ mmhnguh tight?—” He licks and sucks on your puffy clit—sliding two of his fingers back inside you, fucking quicker than he did before. He's devouring everything he can like a vacuum - drowning in your folds as he does so.
You're so close, so fucking close, but he still won't let you cum. You can feel the orgasm burning inside you, your whole body tensing up as you try to hold back. But it's no use, you can't fight it any longer.
Sukuna knows it too, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge. You can feel your breath shortening as you gradually get closer, until you can't take it anymore, your orgasm preparing to rip through you like a freight train. 
"Please, Suh-S-Sukuna, can’ h-hold it gon’a…cumnnh!" 
He looks up at you, a carnivorous desire in his tone. "Beg for it," he growls, his tongue melting over your clit again.
“Please, Kuna’, I'm begging you. P-Please let me cum…!”
He smirks, the taste buds on his tongue roaming faster over your cunt. "Go on baby, cuhm f’me like a lil slut," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your thighs brutally.
“Ahhnn–S’Kuna n’ cummin’..!” Your whole body quivers as you succumb to his charm, your orgasm overwhelmingly taking you. His tongue sucks on your pussy—gulping down your substances.
Descending from your euphoria, he begins to stand up. His hands, his face, his entire body—now saturated in your concoction.
[1:02PM]
Disregarding his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His pants follow quickly after, leaving him standing in front of you with nothing but his boxers. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the fabric, and you can't wait to get your hands on it.
Sukuna hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and timelessly pulled them down. You licked your lips in conviction.
He reached out and cupped your chin in his palm, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. "You want this job don't you?," he whispered, his voice clouded in vanity. 
You looked up at him, and nodded—your eyes following his lips. 
“Use your words.” 
“Yes, Mr—S-Sukuna, I do.” He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. His lips were on yours, his tongue messily racing through your mouth. 
You could feel the heaviness of his cock brushing past your leg, prompting you—of what was coming next.
“Y’gonna keep it all inside like a good girl right? Not g’nna spill any of it?.”
“Mhm! Gonna be a good girl, ‘Kuna..—” He placed his hands on the sides of your head as you laid back—the hard wooden desk becoming your only security. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and sex - becoming intoxicating. 
Sukuna moaned into your mouth as you brought a hand below you and started to stroke him, his hips thrusting forward in time with your strokes. Dissolving into your touch before he broke the kiss, he looked down at you.
"Need’ t’be inside you," he seethed.
“M’ all yours, Mr. ‘Kuna…” You wanted him inside you just as much as he wanted to be there. 
Sukuna grabbed your calves—hauling you towards the edge of the desk, positioning you so that his cock was aimed methodically at your oh, so—more than ready cunt. 
He made a single, resentful, forceful thrust that went deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the newfound fullness, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock surging through your walls.
“Ahnn!..f-fuck-” you hiccuped as he started to fuck you harder. Inevitably slamming himself into you while lowering down to get hold of your hips—using them as leverage. 
"Ts’like she’s made f’me," he grunted, his brows are pinched, the sight of sweat accumulating around his eyes, irritably blurring his line of sight. "Tight, wet, ‘nd fuck…perfect for my cock." 
Sukuna began to roughly pound into you, each of his thrusts making you scream his name—resembling that of a prayer. His fingers now bruising into the flesh of your hips.
He was relentless, each stroke more forceful than the last. He made your legs weaken as he fucked you soulfully, the desk beneath you visibly quaking with each impact. Creaking with complaints as the legs of the table shook violently.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust. You could feel another orgasm ready to burst through, the pleasure coiling within your belly as Sukuna's cock drilled into your guts. You pathetically clung to him, clawing at his back for some sort of stability other than the shaking table underneath you.
The sound of your bodies filled the room as the noise of his balls smashing into your ass reverberated. With every thrust that brought you closer to the brink, you could feel the heat of your own need enveloping inside of you.
"Ahn…! Don't stop, don't stop, p-please..!-" you cried out, your voice hardly audible anymore. 
So, of course Sukuna’s only response was to fuck you harder, his hips ramming into yours with a force that made you see stars. 
“F-Fuck…y’r cunts gonna squeeze me f-fuckin dry..”
“G-Give it t’me ‘K-Kunauh…!-” You chanted in desperation. His thrusts became more erratic at your vowels, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his own release. You could feel his cock cruelly plowing inside you, assaulting everything in its way, leaving no room for pity. 
“Hughn- fuck..fuck…fuck..” He reiterated, guttural moans dropping from his throat as his cock probed inside you, signaling his impending release. 
You tightened your muscles around him, you could feel his cum filling you up, each second his cock rested in you, was another second that caused your walls to pulse tight around him, confirming—he didn’t finish until the very last drop. As he subsided you into your own climax, the nubs of your feet kept him still. Milking his cock of anything he had to give as you both came.
[1:29pm]
BRRING BRRING BRRING
Being brought into consciousness, the noise of his office phone pulls you out of your lucidity—your naked bodies sweaty and worn yet, still exuding warmth from one another. 
"Fuck," he grunted, pulling away from you and reaching for the phone.
"Ryomen here," he sighs into the receiver, his expression glum as he listens to his receptionist's next words.
Whilst you hurriedly put your clothes back on, you maintain your eyes on him, your body still stiff from the unnerving orgasms he had just tore from you. Sore from the constant torment he had inflicted upon your insides like a curse. 
A curse you hoped for.
"Yes, I know, but I'm in the middle of something right now," Sukuna said, his eyes flicking over to you.
With a smile on your face, you gestured to him to continue. 
"I want it to be canceled," Sukuna kept on, his eyes never leaving yours.
The voice on the other end of the line stuttered, “But s-sir, it’s an important meet-”
Sukuna cut her off, his tone firm. “I said cancel it. I’m busy.”
“But Mr. Ryomen, the client…-”
“I don’t care.” Sukuna interrupted again, his gaze still locked with yours. His eyes were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh tone he was using on the phone. “You scheduled it, so cancel it.”
He hung up and tossed the phone back onto his desk without any thought. He smiled softly as he turned back to face you. 
“Now…where were we?” 
You couldn’t help but giggle, the tension from the phone call dissipating. “I think…we were at the part where you tell me if I got the job or not.” 
Sukuna erupted with laughter, amused. He grins "Is that right?"
“Tsk–well, in that case...” he paused, calamity radiating in his charming smile. “Better start memorizin' the way I like my tea.”
You laughed against his words, your voice resonating through his office. “And how is that?” you asked.
“Two sugars, dash of milk, brewed strong. Don’t forget.”
“Two sugars, a dash of milk, anddd brewed strong,” you repeated, a cheeky smile on your lips. “Got it.”
“Good.” 
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TAGLIST (if tag isn’t grey, i could not tag. also if you keep getting tagging notifications the taglist keeps glitching so I apologise): @jotarohat @lxchlaouch @izuuzuxuzuzu @nyamocka @deepenthevoid @shitpostathon-nbpw @yaygurist @sadityb230 @qlorin @partr1dge @mikyapixie @ventila98 @aydene @kizzyxren @tananaxx @tojideckmuncher @httpstoyosi @is-belluvism @shinrjj @sephraee @c4rm1son @theiridescentdragon @spindyl @guacam011y @brianmaysclog @sexicherri3 @kukigirli @puran-poli @ilivefortheleague @freakquencys @6demonize6me6 @mmeharuno @domainexpansionmypants @mermaidian02 @no-regrets-just-confusion @qv4nx11 @seelevoellerei @iloveboysinred @hoesbeforebros101 @glossygreene @kivrumi @distinguishedlove @ssetsuka @thisuserdrinkslavendertea @love-me-satoru @tyke2219 @paprikaquinn @skunkfeet @suguruswiifey @oidloid
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nanaslutt · 8 months
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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk
When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader
this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..
contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.
Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.
Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.
Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.
Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.
Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”
His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.
You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.
This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.
Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.
He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.
He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.
Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.
Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?
See? This was a hundred times better than the club.
But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.
When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.
Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.
“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.
“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…
“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.
“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.
“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.
He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.
“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.
“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”
Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.
You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.
Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.
He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.
The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.
Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.
After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.
He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.
You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.
Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.
Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.
One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.
Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.
Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.
He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.
But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.
He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.
Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.
His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.
Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.
“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.
Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.
“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.
Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?
Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.
“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.
“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.
“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.
“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.
He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.
You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.
It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.
Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.
Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.
He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.
He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.
He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.
“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.
Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.
“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.
The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.
You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.
“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.
“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.
“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 
“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.
“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.
“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.
“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.
“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”
You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.
Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.
“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.
“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.
“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.
You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.
"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.
Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."
"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.
"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.
"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.
"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.
He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.
Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.
"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.
He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.
The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.
When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.
Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.
You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.
He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.
Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.
He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.
"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.
The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.
You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.
Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.
Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.
"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.
"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.
Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.
"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.
"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.
You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.
Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.
"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.
Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.
Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.
"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.
His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.
"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.
Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.
Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.
Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.
"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.
"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.
You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.
"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.
"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.
"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.
Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.
“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.
“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.
Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.
Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.
He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.
The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.
His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.
Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.
Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.
“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.
“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.
“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.
“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.
Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.
“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.
“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.
“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.
You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.
His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.
Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.
After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.
He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.
As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.
You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.
“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.
You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.
You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.
Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.
“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.
“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.
Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.
You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.
Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.
He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.
“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.
“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.
You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.
“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”
“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.
“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.
Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.
“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.
“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.
“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.
“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.
You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.
“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.
Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.
“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.
Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.
Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.
“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.
You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.
The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.
“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.
Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.
Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.
His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.
“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.
“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.
“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.
“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.
He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.
You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.
“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.
Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.
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strangerstilinski · 6 months
Text
a little bit of Older!Eddie thirst on this monday night. 🥵
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+
“-and anyway, all I’m saying is, you’re gonna get a lot more years outta your car if you bring it in to get an oil change every six months or so-”
It’s not that you don’t care about what he has to say, your lack of focus on his advice has entirely more to do with the way his thick fingers are curled around the pint of beer in front of him. The metal wrapped around the base several of his fingers clink softly every time the older man nervously drums them against the glass. All you can think about is those fingers in your hair, gripping the fat of your ass or your hips, stretching out your cunt in preparation for his cock.
Your stomach flips a little at the sight of his fingernails. Scrubbed clean of any of the oil or grime that had been wedged into his nail-beds when you’d first met a week ago at the auto body shop, the little patch sewn into his coveralls had blessed you with the name that you finally utter now.
“Eddie?” You interrupt sweetly, glossed lips pursing when his eyes snap to yours.
“Shit. Am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He rambles in distress, bringing ringed fingers up to scratch at the coarse stubble lining his jaw. “It’s just- When you asked me to get a drink, at first I kinda thought you were just angling for a discount on repairs, y’know? I mean, pretty thing like you? Actually wanting go out with this old mess? It seemed ridiculous, but- Well, now we’re here and you’ve already paid off the invoice for your car and I’m a little-”
“Eddie.”
His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dimly lit bar.
“I want you,” Your hand meets where his is wrapped around the sweaty pint glass, fingers hooking underneath his own as you guide your laced hands to rest on the sticky tabletop, “I.. really want you.” You repeat with a bit more emphasis, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.
“What, like-? Like right now?” Eddie is already looking around the bar with wide eyes before his gaze flicks back to you, question swimming in their brown depths, “Here?” He murmurs in quiet disbelief.
You give him a coy smile, long lashes blinking at him longingly, “Here.”
Eddie rises to his feet a bit clumsily, like perhaps his body was trying to respond to your words before his brain, “Shit. Fuck. Okay, sweetheart. If you’re sure, I mean. Uh, we.. We could.. Um-”
You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you think that you normally would, “Eddie-”
He’s dragging you up from the other side of the booth in a flash, large hands falling to your waist as he begins to guide you through the desolate Tuesday night bar crowd with his chest pressed warmly to your spine.
“Just come with me, baby,” Eddie trips over a his own feet in his heavy boots and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling, “Shit, sorry-” He grumbles into your ear from behind, the huskiness of his voice and the warmth of his breath prompting a pleasant shiver up your spine.
Once the two of you have stumbled your way down the dark hallway at the back, you spin around to let your arms snake around his waist from behind. Eddie is fumbling with the sticky knob of the bathroom door, the hairs at the base of his tummy soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip your hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.
“Shit-” Eddie fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze the base of his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your small hand around him, “Oh, you're a f-fucking.. menace, aren’t you? N-not so sweet after all.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.
Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat beneath his wild mane of curls, snapping a small nip of your teeth against the curve of his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow on his cock.
Distracted by your touch, Eddie swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with the dirty porcelain sink on the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.
As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him. Your mouth finds the soft pudge of his tummy, and metal and leather clink and slap beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, half hard already and bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. His cock is gorgeous — average length but thick and beautifully curved just a bit to the right.
You hungrily eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling just the tiniest bit already, shining in the hazy light coming from the exposed lightbulb in the ceiling.
Eddie lets out a groan as you take him in your hand again and lick at his tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately. He doesn’t pull, he doesn’t push, his hands are entirely too gentle. His fingertips pet soft at your head like he’s praising you already and you’ve hardly even started, “You.. Baby girl, you don't have to-”
You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, “Mm, and maybe I want to. You ever think of that?”
He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”
“Maybe I’m a young, confident woman who knows what she wants. And maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Hm? That maybe I might like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.
A soft gasp turned groan falls from the older man’s lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.
“Do you?” Eddie can’t help but ask, the question coming out a quiet groan, “Like it?”
“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it.”
“I just thought- Pretty thing like your shouldn’t have t- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You’re certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he’s huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.
“Good..?” You repeat in question.
“Wh- Huh?”
Eddie is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly sexy.
“I’m on my knees for you in a dirty bar restroom and I’m ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip teasingly. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.
“Shit, sweetheart. Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing fuck-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.
You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.
“Fuck. You- You’re perfect, baby girl. You have to know that. An angel. Gotta know how much you’re- Ohh-”
The surprised groan that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.
“-How much you’re rockin’ my world right now.” He finishes weakly.
You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh, old man?” You tease.
“God damn it,” Eddie breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you’re standing in front of him again, “You really are a little brat, aren’t you?”
But his mouth is on yours before you can respond, beer coated tongue breaking through the seam of your lips, a wide palm and fingers covered in cool rings encasing the back of your neck as he leads you just a few steps backward, until your spine is hitting the door.
Your keening moan is lost in the kiss, and as life-changing as his cock and fingers and mouth prove to be that evening, it’s his whispered words of praise and the sweet kisses he presses to your hair as he catches his breath at the end of it all that truly ruin you for anyone else.
As it turns out, the older mechanic who fixed up your car? Eddie? He’s kinda it for you.
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
Text
window shopping • connie springer + ryomen sukuna x black fem reader
your two favorite fellow mall employees have a bit of a competition to see who can bag you first. Little did they know, you don’t want to choose.
word count: 3.7K
content + themes: crossover au, jeweler connie, foot locker manager sukuna (they’re both afro-latino coded in this idc), threesome tings (too many smutty things to list) car sex, heavy squirting, oral to name a few (.2 seconds of rimming), lots of humor, weed mentions, they call reader mami, miss and baby, she calls them both papi, crack ass post if I’ve ever written one.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰───────✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
interesting. The one word you’d use to describe your work days at Center Pointe Mall. Although a gross understatement, it was still interesting..mainly due in part to what and who, rather..you encountered on a daily basis. Sure, the influx of customers and unfamiliar faces you saw during your employment at Sephora were most certainly wild cards. From the college girls who always mismatched their foundation to the business woman who needed that perfect skin care package to get rid of her crow’s feet..neither of them held a candle to those two..
“Good morning, miss. You look good today..like that hair on you.”
“Aye, good morning, ma. What’s that perfume you got on..’smell real good.”
it was like clockwork. Every day, as you entered for your shift, there they were. Stationed in front of their respective stores, ready to greet you. Flashing those beaming smiles, oftentimes with gold slugs in their mouth and with the same, sweet charm lacing their words. Ryomen Sukuna, who headed up the Foot Locker and Connie Springer, managing the jewelry shop which both just so happened to be conveniently placed on either side of your store. It made for fun times, for sure! When you’d have a slow day and you’d stand outside the doorway, vibing to the music they’d play because the top forty’s pop crap they recycled on repeat was driving you insane. Connie would talk to you from across the way as he waited for potential customers. Ryo, who was the manager, had other employees manning the store. He would come and interrupt the party none other than for the reason of chatting you up and getting on Connie’s nerves. Which made for quite the entertainment.
“Aw, hell. Here he go..Ryo, ain’t nobody talking to you, bruh. Gon’ somewhere.”
“Stay out of grown folks' business, Mr. Clean. I came to see my girl. What’s up with you, miss?”
which was so much more hilarious, considering the fact that the two of them? They were literally best friends! Dating back as far as middle school. Ryo was a couple years older but they were from the same neighborhood and were attached at the hip. Both exceptional basketball players and gifted artists. Drawing amazing artwork and a number of the tattoos they had on their bodies. Brilliant young men with wonderful personalities..how could you not adore them?! Regardless, all three of you would congregate outside of those doors and talk until customers came in and would even take your lunch breaks together. It was never a dull moment with those two, that’s for sure. Especially when it comes to vying for your attention. Buying your food, pulling your chair out and everything. They were perfect gentlemen despite their constant flirtation. Connie would use humor as a means to try and win your heart. Always spewing out corny jokes and making you laugh. Ryo was definitely the charmer of the pair..attempting to sweet talk you at every turn. One day, you were sitting next to Ryo in the food court with Connie in front of you as you grabbed the pink haired gentleman’s chin.
“You got such a pretty smile, Ryo.” And Connie was not having it. Immediately snorting as he sipped his drink, the chaos would ensue. “Yeah, cause he went and got them big ass veneers. Them extra large teef’…” prompting you to nearly spit out your drink and forcing your head down. You couldn’t take them anywhere! “..bet you eat corn on the cob whole. Chewing them muhfuckas like candy.” Knowing he was opening up a can of worms he wasn’t ready for.
“Worry ‘bout pedaling them fake ass chains, ConMan. Bubblegum machine ass necklace. Look at the diamonds, shit’s standing still..” And they’d go on forever, taking shots and licks at each other all day, putting you in the middle of it. “(Y/N), miss. Tell this baldheaded ass lil’ boy to leave you alone. We can go get a tester and put his ass outta business right now .” “Tell jumbo teeth to mind his business. Tight ass shirt on..bout to rip.” And you’d have to feign off their nonsense with laughter. “Y’all too much. I gotta go. I’ll see you boys later.” And both of them would instantly fluster at the sight of you waving goodbye. It was all but impossible when they’d watch those thirty inches of jet black hair and ass swaying simultaneously. Those plump, gloss covered lips; wearing your signature brown liner and beautiful features. A single nose piercing on the side of your left nostril..you were gorgeous. They couldn’t help but to admire. But soon, that innocuous affection turned to actual lust. Lust that was shared on all sides and unbeknownst to your bumbling boys..you wanted a piece of them both. They’d continue flirting, pining for your affection and even making a little wager without your knowledge to see who could bag you first..
but it was one night after work, when you were all seated in Ryo’s car. You in the passenger’s seat of his spacious, blacked out Trackhawk. He is in the driver’s seat and Connie was right behind you. Stationed in an empty lot not too far from the mall itself, the three of you would do as you had done several times:
“Here, your turn, (y/n).”
passing around a blunt and blowing smoke as you hotboxed..leaving a large cloud to fog up the already tinted windows. After four puffs, you were already beginning to feel the effects. Your eyes narrowed and began to glow red from the euphoria. But alas, your high was only about to increase tenfold when you’d drop quite a bombshell on them. They’d continue with their usual antics and alas, the question would arise again: who do you like more? And from there, they’d just go on and on, swearing that one or the other was the ideal choice. Ryo, with his deep raspy tone, would incite the behavior with the glide of a finger underneath your chin and that smooth talking. If it truly was a competition, you wouldn’t know how to pick. Granted, they were both so silly but there was a quality about each of them that you couldn’t resist. Ryo, with his overall sex appeal..this man was so charming and knew exactly what to say to get EXACTLY what he wanted.
“C’mon now, lil’ bro. I mean, I’d hate to hurt your feelings but don’t make the lady choose. It’s not even a question. Ain’t that right, miss?” Flashing you a wink in return.
but there was also Connie, who was a literal sweetheart. He had a more tactful approach to doing things. Despite all of the tattoos, chains and golds in his mouth, he had sort of this shyness about him. But in the same turn, you knew deep down, if given the chance, he’d show you that he wasn’t for play. “Don’t even play yourself like that, bruh. You know she would pick me everytime. Tell ‘em, mami. You just don’t wanna be rude..” Again though, you had no interest in making only one selection and rather..
“…who said I wanted to pick at all?”
leaving them both stunned and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, they were both a little taken aback. Completely misunderstanding what it was that you were saying. They figured that you meant that neither of them were on your radar and that you had no interest in being anything besides their friend. But once again, they were both wrong! With the look of shock still fresh on their faces, you’d waste no time in elaborating..starting with a kiss along Ryo’s jawline and whispering in his ear. . “I mean…why would I when you could both have me?” And it was then that their faces began to turn beet red! Illuminated with complete bashfulness. They knew that they had been pining after you something serious. Even making a few sexual innuendos here and there but never would they have guessed that you’d been down for something of this caliber.. “..you telling me y’all never thought about it? Because I have..all the time.” Uttering the confession with your tongue scaling the sides of his neck; flicking it over his tattoo. Meanwhile, your hand would snake to the backseat to massage Connie’s crotch. This silly little game was a moot point. What was the point of competition when they could simply work together to give you what you wanted?! Taking heed to your advances and obvious demand, they wasted no time in shifting gears.
“Well damn..if that’s the type shit you was on, all you had to do was let us know.”
Ryo, who was already groping your big, round tits, shoved his tongue between your lips and began to engage in a full blown make out session. Exchanging sloppy wet kisses, as you had been downing water in between your passes. Meanwhile, Connie would watch from the backseat, sort of aroused by the idea of spectating. He’d listen to your soft whimpers, the dirty words uttered into your ear and even how Ryo clasped your throat in his ink laden hands and immediately began to feel a pulse through the confines of his boxers. He’d discreetly cup the bulge and just slowly rub it as your ass jiggled from being folded over the console. Faint traces of saliva seeped from your mouths each time you both pulled away; only to find yourselves with one less article of clothing. Your hand had slipped into his black joggers and began tousling that growing erect around. You knew it was big by the visible print alone and could only imagine what it looked like. But before you could unveil the mystery and have too much fun, he’d stop and usher you to the backseat so you could both join Connie. “Climb back there..”
and they didn’t have to tell you what to do because the second you sat down in the middle, Connie would tap in. Bringing your face towards him and kissing you with such passion. Immediately wrapping his fingers around your neck and twirling his tongue around between your jaws. His hands worked to unclasp your jeans and once he did, that left hand would find its way into the seat of your panties..rubbing that clit whilst you stroked that cock in your hand. Running those fingers up and down that shaft; letting those duckbill shaped nails graze his tip. He was such an attentive and great kisser, you felt yourself growing wetter by the moment. Heating up on his very fingers..meanwhile, Ryo had joined the fray as well. Readjusting himself only for a split second to step out of the drivers into the seat behind him. Once he was with you both, it was up from there.
“Can’t let him have all the fun..c’mere, baby.” It was then that he’d shuffle his pants back down to his waist and allow you to stroke him as well. They had full fledged confidence that you knew what to do..going back and forth, exchanging kisses and gentle strokes..pumping each of them in your enclosed fists. Meanwhile, they’d take great joy in fondling your body. Ryo’s wide grasp encompassed both of your tits as he peeled your shirt away. Connie’s fingers were still tending to your sensitive cunt. Slick surrounding his digits as he worked them in and out..even massaging that thumb pad over your clit. In a matter of moments, they’d have you squirming in the seat and begging for more. Soon, Ryo’s lips latched on to your neck, suckling on the nape of it with a wild eyed expression. His raspy laugh ringing in your ear as he reached for your throat. Meanwhile, your palms were still clasped around their cocks, pumping the shafts with delicate strokes..without breaking stride, they’d use their free hands to rid you of those bottoms; shoving them down to your ankles where you’d kick them off. The same followed for your shirt, which Ryo tore open with minimal effort. Having long since discarded your bra, you were left with nothing more than a paper thin thong that was tugged to the side, along with your shoes that soon followed the rest. With you rendered completely nude, there wasn’t a thing holding them back..during the entire ordeal, they’d alternate between the different parts of your body; having their fill and taking their pick of what they wanted to indulge in next. As well as piling your head with compliments and salacious comments about what they wanted to do with you. Ryo not holding back a single detail of how many times he wanted you to come for him, even at the expense of his interior. Carefully examining that tight cunt spasming on his best friend’s digits. He had the utmost confidence that you could take the dick, regardless of their sizes. Luckily, the second and third row seating were laid back so you’d have ample room. Connie on the other hand, who had been honing in on getting you prepped..aware of how tight you were..couldn’t stop telling you how badly he wanted to use your throat. He’d often dreamt of seeing those pretty lips stretched around his cock..watching you gag, slurp and spit on it as it so carefully glided in and out of your mouth. And all you could do was whimper, thrashing yourself around on those knuckles to reach an inevitable orgasm and you were so damn close.
“Aye, Ryo. You think she’s ready, bruh? Feels like she is…what do you think?”
“I think so too, lil’ bro..say, love..you think you can handle both of us? We don’t wanna hurt you now..”
but they were both in for quite the surprise. You were far from the bashful type and you were about to give them something they’d never forget. Chuckling with your head suspended back, you’d chew lightly at your bottom lip before answering either of them.
“Handle it? Y’all better the fuck the shit out of me. I don’t like all that talking without action.” And with that, both Ryo and Connie were full and well aware of what they had to do if they wanted to keep you around! Ushering you onto all fours first, everybody got into position. You with your ass up in the air and back arched as Ryo saddles behind you. Connie sprawled out on the back passenger door as your head lowered into his lap. All you wanted was for them to use your body as they saw fit..fuck you until your legs gave out and a mess covered this backseat. “C’mere, mama. Lemme have that pussy..” with tattooed hands and fingernails digging into your hair, Ryo pushed you face down as he aligned that swollen cock head with your very sensitive slit. He couldn’t help but to be enamored with the plumpness of that pretty ass. That cute little asshole was already fluttering and that cunt dripping for him, preparing to stretch you open. Meanwhile, Connie was brushing that beautiful hair to the side so that he could line up with your mouth.
“Yeaah, there we go, mami. Eat this dick up..know you been waiting to..” and he was correct. Hence why it wasn’t a full five minutes before you’d find yourself stuffed full at each end. Deep groans released from each males’ mouths when the initial sensation of your holes hit. They couldn’t believe how silky and warm both of them felt. Letting out a simultaneous ‘fuck’, along with a laugh..they’d make haste in moving. You were more than well lubricated so they slipped in and out with ease. You’d bob your head slowly, up and down on Connie’s shaft whilst Ryo’s hands rested at the small of your back, slowly pressing those thumbs into those adorable dimples..sounds of clapping flesh and slurping began to emit throughout the vehicle and before long, all three of you were letting loose.
“Shit! Pussy’s so goddamn tight, baby..how you keep this from me all this time?”
“Fuuuck, mami. chupas esa mierda tan bien…” whimpering in a high pitched moan, he’d toss his head back and continue letting you work your magic. Those plump lips wrapped around that thick shaft as globs of saliva drenched down to his swollen balls. Without so much as a single gag. You took him nearly five inches down your throat before withdrawing and jerking him off. Even though he filled your esophagus. Leaving quite the sloppy mess in your wake. All while a sheath of creamy lather began to form as those thick cheeks collided with Ryo’s pelvis. You’d begin to whimper and beg each of them for more. “Yeah, mama..let us hear that shit. How much you love being fucked like a lil’ slut..” teasing before leaning down to lick up the curvature of your spine. “Mmph! Fuuuck..please, don’t stop.” And he had no intentions of doing so, especially when he’d reach underneath and curl his hand underneath and massage your clit. Making you twitch on that cock..but Connie wasn’t one to be neglected either. Because once you put your mouth back on him, he was done for. Lowering your head again, an entire sheath of saliva came spilling onto that shaft as you spat and continued pumping in your hand. Where you kept your focus, however, were on those round, full balls of his. Practically aching to the touch..apparent by the way his body trembled and those diamonds kept swinging and refracting against the star covered ceiling.
“Yeah, right there, baby. Suck that muhfuck—“ but just as quickly as he gave the command, he’d be halted in his tracks and his eyes would trail to the back of his head. “Fuuuuck! Oh fuck, do that again, baby. That feels so good.” Nearly catapulting out of his seat from the sensation of your tongue swirling around his balls and momentarily gliding over his entrance. He knew he’d probably never experienced something so salacious before. Talk all he might but Connie was a lover boy and most likely, incredibly vanilla. He preferred making love over rough fucking. Meanwhile, Ryo preferred his women to be freaky. The kind that would top him off and kiss him afterwards or let him put a foot on her head! He could only let out a hearty laugh as he watched his lil’ bro get bitched up!
“You a nasty lil’ bitch. I love it. Knew you was gon’ be a problem but damn…aye, Connie..you good, bruh?” Only receiving a loud whine back..knowing that you had damn near sucked the soul out of this man!
“C’mon, baby. Let’s switch.” And truth be told, he too needed a breather because if he persisted, you were going to be on maternity leave messing with him! Reluctantly withdrawing, he’d pull out and lay his erect across your back, spurting a trail of his precum across your skin. You all would maneuver around until the two of them had switched positions and you were flat on your back. Dangling your head, Ryo took hold of it as he leaned against the door and Connie spread you open. Pinning your legs back, he’d tap himself against your slick ridden, fucked out little hole..eliciting a high pitched whimper. One that hummed and vibrated against Ryo’s cock. It was such a euphoric feeling for all three of you. Especially with the sensation of that weed coursing through your veins. That thong dangled around your ankles and his wristwatch glistened under the lights as his hands clasped your ankle. Placing soft kisses around your calf. “Pussy’s so fucking wet, mami..damn.” Ryo was on the opposite end, thrusting into your mouth slowly with a gentle hand cupped around your throat. They were using you as they saw fit and you couldn’t get enough. They’d persist until they drummed out what would be the first of many orgasms. Which came not a moment too soon when Connie was pressing down into the center of your belly and pumping you full of cock. That’s when you felt it!…
“Damn! Let it out, baby..squirt on that dick, just like that.” Sending you into convulsions as he tapped himself against you after you all but pushed you out. But you were too busy having your mouth used as a sleeve to release any moans. But Ryo was aware of the way you hummed against him. Connie wasn’t going to be the only one having his fill. He wanted you to take his nut inside regardless of where it ended up. Tugging himself momentarily and seemingly premature, he’d hold you in place as he prompted you to stick your tongue out. Which you did with a wide smile on your face. “There we go.” Rewarding you with a long glob of spit afterwards. “Mmm, thank you, papi.” Showing your gratitude to them both. The two men would continue on their crusade to bring you to ultimate pleasure. Taking turns pounding in various positions..and entrances until finally..
“Fuck! On your knees, baby..just like that.”
“Suck that fucking cum out, mama..”
they’d instruct you to grasp both of their shafts and jerk them off until you milked them of every remnant of their cum. And it didn’t take long before you found your face splattered in both men’s semen and them rolling their heads back on their shoulders and crying out your name, along with a string of expletives. Needless to say, you all were good and spent. And very much satisfied with this little rendezvous! Even so, the gentlemen still couldn’t help but to question who was the better of the two. But if you hadn’t already made yourself clear, you’d iterate it one more time:
“Like I said, I don’t have to choose..I’m just window shopping.”
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months
Text
Drunken mess
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Pairing - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary - sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend.
Warnings - unprotected sex, cheating, hair pulling, fem receiving oral/fingering, choking. (18+)
A/n- just a little thank you for 5k, thank you to anon for the prompt/idea.
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The music was loud, vibrating against the soles of your shoes that bounced against the hardwood floor. The disco ball spun above you, the light ricocheting of the walls, smoke filled the air and your lungs. Your best friend was dancing wildly in front of you, your back pressed to some girl who’s hands held you tightly by the waist, your best friend moved closer and placed her hands on your shoulders. The three of you moved in sync, you could feel the eyes of the others around you.
Some looked on in disgust but most looked on in lust, especially Rafe. He knew his eyes should be on his girlfriend, your best friend. But he found them wandering to you, letting his eyes roam your body. He had to readjust himself multiple times at the sight of your thick ass pressed tightly to someone’s body, he had the urge to replace her with himself but he knew that would cause a shit fight.
“You're looking at the wrong girl” Topper tutted, his own eyes drank in your outfit. Neither of the boys could keep their eyes off you, the way your tight black dress hugged every curve of your smooth body. “She’s so fucking hot!”.
Rafe nods in agreement, he can’t find the words to say. He’s so obsessed with you right now, he can’t look away. He’s imagining the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you would moan his name when he filled your tight cunt with his cock. “I gotta ask her to dance” Topper states, Rafes hand is quick to grasp his wrist. Pulling him back down onto the couch, with one look Topper nods understanding you had been marked, even if he already had a girlfriend. No one was to touch Rafe Cameron’s girl.
Your best friend pulls away, holding her hand to her mouth. Eyes wide she darts out of the crowd, you follow closely behind. You find yourself in the bathroom holding her hair back as she throws her insides up into a ceramic bowl. “I feel like shit”.
You let out a laugh and grab a cloth, running it under the cold water you bring it over to your best friend and dab her face. “Let’s get you to bed yeah?” She nods and lets you walk her out of the bathroom and down a hall, moments later you're tucking her into Rafes bed and heading back to the party.
Your back on the dance floor, throwing back your drink and getting back into the music. You don’t take notice when a body stands behind you, strong hands pulling you close. You're used to people dancing on you, with you. You didn’t mind the attention, you just liked to dance and let loose. “You look so fucking sexy”.
Your heart skips a beat and you're quick to put the voice to the face, his breath is hot on the tip of your ear. You know you should pull away but you let him flatten his palm to your stomach, helping you move your hips against his. “Do you know how fucking hard it’s been for me to watch you and not touch you?”.
You shake your head, his hands brush down the length of your arms. Lacing his fingers with yours only to pull them up and around his neck, the angle gives him a nice view down your dress. His cock hardens even more within his shorts, he presses himself tighter against you. You can feel him between your ass cheeks, subconsciously you bend just slightly. “Naughty girl” he groans, holding tightly onto your waist. He slips one hand up the length of your stomach and palms your breast over your dress, a soft moan slips from your lips. “You like me touching you?”
“Please Rafe… I like it” your voice is too quiet over the sound of the music but your body is answering his question. Your hands slip from his neck, bending over even more and placing your hands to your knees.
He clenches his jaw, he could slip his cock out and fuck you right here, infront of everyone. Give them a real good show, let them see your heavy tits bounce as he pounds you on the dance floor. “So desperate for me sweet girl” he chuckles, his fingers lock around your hair and pull you up straight, a sharp sting runs down the back of your neck. He presses your body against his own. He begins walking you out of the dance floor, only a few eyes on the two of you. Topper watches on in jealousy, imagining himself behind you instead. “Ella is in your room” you find yourself saying as he walks the two of you down the hall you had been down not too long ago, his chuckle is deep and it vibrates against your back. “”Did you hear-”
“I heard you”
He opens the door to his room and pushes you inside, your eyes falling to your best friend who’s passed out in the bed. The dim light from the lamp in the corner casts a shadow of the two of you over her sleeping frame.
You turn quickly but meet his chest, he grips your jaw tightly and your eyes widen at the harshness. “You want to be a slut and let me touch you on the dance floor… well you can be a good little slut and let me fuck you next to your best friend”.
You grip his wrist and pull, he chuckles again and pushes you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and you use all your strength in your calves to stop yourself from falling onto the mattress.
“Are you going to be a good girl?”
Your mind is racing, you’ve wanted to fuck Rafe since you met him. You’ve always wanted to be in your best friend's shoes, you wanted Rafe for yourself. But you let her have him because she called dibs first. “Answer me”
“Yes… I’ll be a good girl”
“That’s what I thought”
His lips are on yours before you can change your mind, his tongue slipping between your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, he tastes the way you expect him to. Whiskey and cigarettes, it’s intoxicating. You can’t get enough of him, he also can’t get enough of you. His hands are roaming your body, squeezing and kneading the flesh of your hips. In one swift movement he yanks the top of your dress down, your breasts spill out in an almost slow motion movement. “So fucking perfect”.
He grabs a handful and kneads, pinching and rubbing your hardened nipple between his fingers. Your back arches pushing your chest closer to him, his mouth envelopes your nipple. “Oh fuck”.
Your legs turn to jelly and your bum hits the mattress, your body frozen as your best friend turns in her sleep. Rafe doesn’t let up his assaults on your tits, his face buried between the two. Your heart is racing, scared she will wake up and catch the two of you. “Don’t worry about her… look at me”.
You turn your head, he slips his shirt over his head. Your fingers are running down the length of his stomach, staring at his hard pecs. “Like what you see?”
“So much.. I like it so fucking much”
His palm meets your throat and he pulls up from the bed, mouth on yours. You pull your dress down along with your panties, he pulls away from your lips but keeps hold of your throat, he takes a long hard look at your body.
“Shit… I knew I should have fucked you when I met you”
He drops his hand from your throat and steps back, unzipping his shorts as his eyes roam your body. You're not sure where this new found confidence comes from, you're pushing the thought of your best friend to the back of your mind. Stepping over you sit on the ottoman at the end of the bed, scootching back just enough. “What are you doing?” He questions, he’s standing naked and proud in front of you. Watching every movement you make, his cock is hard and bobbing as he steps towards you. “Touch me”.
You part your knees dropping your legs wide, his eyes zone in on your wet pussy. “Fucking hell”.
He can’t believe the sight in front of him, he’s sure he’s died and gone to heaven. Your pussy is perfect, arousal leaks from your tight hole. He drops to his knees in front of you when you reach down and spread your lips for him, his hand gripping your wrist before you can push a finger in. “Your going to fucking kill me”.
He’s breathing in the scent of your cunt, pressing the palms of his hands to the back of your thighs and pushing them to your chest. Your breasts pressed tightly against your legs, both holes staring him in the face. You clench when he flattens his tongue out and runs it up the length of your pussy. “Holy fucking… SHIT!” You cry out, head thrown back as he devours your pussy. He’s sucking hard on your clit, pushing two of his large fingers inside of your hole. “Oh god Rafe.. so fucking good.. yes oh yes just like that!”
He pushes in a third finger, spreading you wide for him. Your arousal coats his lips and hands, it's everywhere, you're making such a mess on him. His cock is throbbing, pre cum stains the floor, his fingers are pounding in and out of you with such force your back hits the mattress and causes your best friend to stir again. “Yes yes oh yes harder.. fuck! Rafe I need your cock.. please please give me your cock” your begging, tears are spilling from your eyes. “Such a needy little slut… can’t be patient can you”
“No no I can’t Rafe, please… I need you”
With one swift moment he’s pulling you down onto his cock, he’s stretching you wide. An almost burning sensation hits you but is quickly swept away with the rough thrust of his hips. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings you up to the bed, your eyes meeting your best friends closed ones. “Look at me”
His hips thrust deep and hard, your brain feels like it’s floating in water “I said look at me!”
He grabs your chin and pulls your head, you stare up at him as he fucks you into the mattress. You reach up to hold onto his shoulder blades “fuck Rafe… you feel so good”.
“That’s it sweet girl… taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine. Do you understand me? Mine… your mine.”
“I’m yours Rafe”
“That’s right… fucking your best friends boyfriend hmm, how are you gonna tell her? How are you gonna tell her I only want this pussy and not hers”
The bed shakes under you, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. He pulls out of you and spins you around, nudging his knee between your legs. You lean down on your elbows and push your bum out for him, he slips back inside of you. “Should we wake her?”
You shake your head, biting down on your lip as he slips into you. His heavy balls hitting against your sensitive clit, he leans over you slightly leaving kisses on your back. “Go on… moan my name into her ear. Wake her up”
Again you shake your head, his fingers pull at your hair until your back meets his chest, one hand palms your breast while the other toys with your clit. “Come on baby girl… I can feel your sweet little cunt clenching around me.. you close?”
“Mhmm”
Your cock drunk, arousal soaks your inner thighs and the bed. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room and your gobsmacked it hasn’t woken her up yet, you can’t hold onto your moans anymore. He’s pounding your sweet post so hard you're sure you’ll squirt. “Fuck your doing so well.. a little louder”.
Your toes are curling, body sweating, the familiar white spots appear in your vision. The butterflies in your belly are fighting hard, you are squeezing so tight around him he pushes you back down onto the bed.
Pressing the side of your face into the mattress as you cum around him. Your screams and moans are muffled by the duvet, your body shakes as he chases his relief. He’s quick to pull out of you and cum on your ass, clenching your hips as he jerks the last of his cum out.
Your body trembles as your orgasm begins to fade and the realization of what just happened settles in, you notice your hand is holding onto your best friend's leg and she still hasn’t woken. “What the fuck did I just do”.
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(It seems I can’t tag some people and I think it’s because I’m posting from my phone. Sorry)
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plasmasimagination · 7 days
Text
|| Wear the hat, ride the Cowboy ||
Boothill
Synopsis: the good old saying always mentioned with cowboys, how about boothill with the prompt?
Warning - SFW but well suggestive undertone, drinking, slight cussing (censored boothill style),
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You were always a fan of the cyborg, he's a fun guy to be around, so you would never pass a chance to have a quick drink with him would ya?
A nice bar, dimmed lights, a good ol' drink in hand, as boothill tells yet another wild story, that you take with yet another grain of salt because of his love for exaggerating.
"and that motherfudger grabbed the gun, he grabbed the gun! He fudging thought he could shoot me, hah! What a-" he got cut off just as your fingers reached over and grabbed the brim of his hat and transported it onto your head,as it softly touched your hair, covering a bit of your forehead since it is quite bigger than you've expected.
He just chuckled and put down his drink with a cheeky smirk, one of the guys around you, who was clearly wasted, mumbles "hah!...w-wear ....ride cowboy!". You clearly didn't know of the saying and looked at boothill with a confused expression as he just mischievously laughs and tilts the head down over your eyes leaning closer
"oy, haven't you heard of the rule? You wear the hat..." *He flicks the hat off your eyes, staring into them, "you ride the cowboy..." He says, his voice lacing with mischief as he watched your eyes widen and expression change from one to another
He just keeps laughing at you and quickly lifts the hat off your head putting it back on his as he leans in, "you'll get to wear the hat again if you'd like...in other circumstances.. ;)".
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Text
Kinktober 2022
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Prompt: Dry Humping
Pairing: Peter Parker x afab!reader
Summary: Peter doesn’t think he could come from just dry humping, you prove him wrong.
18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
Authors note: personally i thought of tasm!peter while writing this but any of them can work. this is basically 2am thoughts, not edited.
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“i’m sorry, but there’s no fucking way someone could make me come from dry humping me.” peter splutters a laugh.
for the last hour, the two of you had been laughing over your tragedy of a love life.
“i mean, you totally would after a while, but he came after like two minutes of me grinding on him,” you wipes the tears from your eyes. “honestly it’s kinda flattering.” getting up to grab a drink from the fridge, peter narrows his eyes at you.
“i mean, i don’t think i could come from dry humping. like i don’t care how hot the girl is, there’s no way,” he laughs again.
“i don’t know parker,”
“what do you mean you don’t know? grinding with clothes on doesn’t even feel that good,”
“i bet i could make you come,” the room falls silent, and glancing at peter you realise his baffled look. “what? i wasn’t saying i will, i was saying i could.” you nonchalantly resume your position on the sofa, pulling open the tab of your soda
“sorry to bruise your ego, but there’s literally no way. maybe after like an hour, but i doubt you’d make it that long without begging me to fuck you,” it was your turn to be surprised. you’d never felt like this before, or at least not because of peter.
well, of course there was that time he walked out of the shower dripping, towel hung low. oh and there was that time he gave you a hickey, as a dare of course. there’s no way peter fucking parker, your best friend, was turning you on. right?
“so you’re saying, if i got on top of you right now, there’s no way you’d come.” you’re smirk was so strong it almost hurt your cheek.
“that’s exactly what i’m saying”
“then let’s test out your theory”
before he can even blink, you’ve swung a leg over his lap, now straddling him.
“you can tell me if you want me to get off.” you stare at each other, almost daring the other to break.
“i mean, if this is the only way we can see who’s right, we have to do it i guess,” his eyes are glassy and pupils blown out. beneath your cunt a small twitch bellows from beneath his pants.
you hop off his lap, shimmying down your jeans. peters look of bewilderment dialled up even more, if that was even possible.
“it’s not fair with jeans on,” you strip down to a pair of pink panties, lace trimming the edges.
“what? that’s cheating…” peter says barely above a whisper as you reach for the loop of his belt.
now both pants-less, you sit back on his lap, and he hisses as your heat sits on the thin layer between his cock
“it’s not too late to admit that you would come from dry humping” you taunt, pushing down slightly.
“never.”
you start slow, moving rhythmically along his dick, feeling every vein through the thin undergarments
peters eyes close and he throws his head back
“shit. i wasn’t expecting it to feel like this.” a particularly well placed grind makes him thrust up, hitting your clit just right
an almost pornographic moan leaves your chest, making peter moan in turn.
your grinding becomes faster, harder, and in tandem with peters thrusts
“sure you won’t come?” you trail your nails over his chest, asking for permission to take his shirt off.
he pulls it off in one swift movement before answering. “i told you. never.” his brown locks stick to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat sheathing his skin
the now accessible skin of his chest is now free real estate, and the trailing of your nails, gently drifting over his nipples down to his happy trail seems to be torturing him.
it annoys you though that he won’t look at you, opting to throw his head back, eyes closed.
it does however, give you an idea
you practically rip your shirt off, stiff nipples pointing straight up.
“pete, look at me,”
and now he can’t keep his eyes off you.
as if he’s never seen tits before, his eyes boggle as you continue sliding your cunt up and down.
a mixture of his precum and your wetness aids these movements, and peter thinks he could die happily right now.
but he remembers why this is all happening in the first place.
he can’t come
but he needs to come.
the slick, dirty sounds that come from below, the smell, the sensation, it’s all too much for poor pete.
“touch me,” you whisper, attempting to maintain dominance, but it’s getting hard to focus on anything with the coil building up in your stomach
peters shaky hands palm your tits, pinching your nipples and caressing your side.
“i can’t.. s’ too much..” he struggles to speak as your grinding gets deeper, shifting angles slightly.
“what’s too much. spit it out baby,”
“m’ gonna cum,” peters never felt this before. he’s been with girls. he’s fucked girls. and yet nothing has felt this overwhelming, this overstimulating, this good.
“come for me peter. i want you to come on my pussy.”
a warm burst hits your core as you spasm on his dick. your simultaneous orgasms hit like a tonne of bricks. the thick spurts of cum soak your underwear, more than previously thought possible.
you rest your head on peters shoulder, gasping for air.
“told you so,”
“fuck you,”
“next time.”
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sunrizef1 · 2 months
Text
Jackie and Wilson
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Warnings: mostly fluff, angst depending on how invested you get
Word count: 2.3k
Authors note: Jackie and Wilson by hozier btw, not proofread, also written at like 2 am
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Charles wasn't having a great time. He'd just DNF’d out of his home race and now he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol at some random bar. He had to pretend to be happy though, considering he was surrounded by friends and coworkers who actually were having a great time.
However by this point, most of them were too drunk to even remember he was there. He was busy nursing a beer slowly, simply surveying the crowded bar.
He's moving to leave the place when suddenly his attentions caught by a loud laugh of someone entering the bar. He glances up, his eyes catching on you and his breath might actually stop for a moment.
You were beautiful. Your loud laugh echoed across the room toward him, entrancing him and pulling him in. You're smiling at the friend next to you and he's feeling the strange need to be the one you're smiling at.
He follows your figure as you make your way toward the bartop he's sat at, your friend walking away to talk to someone else. You come to a stop stood next to him and all he can do is stare like an idiot. Your attentions stuck on the bartender as you order and he waits impatiently for the moment you'll turn your gaze to him.
You order a martini and sit down at the stool next to him and Charles finally shakes himself out of his trance to stop the bartender before he can walk too far away, “Here, for her drink.”
The bartender takes the cash out of Charles’ hand and slides your card back over to you, knowing enough not to argue with Charles over this. You raise your eyebrows at the man next to you, tilting your head slightly at his confidence.
“You buy a lot of girls drinks?” you ask him, a slight laugh lacing your words.
Charles smiles in response, shaking his head lightly, “Not really, just had to do it for you.”
You blush, looking down at the floor abashedly. You look back up as the bartender hands you your drink and you take a sip in hopes of hiding your embarrassed expression.
“Do you live around here?” Charles asks, noting the abscense of his native accent.
“No, just visiting a friend,” you shake your head, taking a large sip of your drink, “Are you from here? Sounds like you might be.”
Charles quickly realizes you have no idea who he is and he leans toward slightly to keep the conversation going, “Yeah, born and raised here.”
You hum, taking yet another sip of your drink before setting it down with a clink. You turn even farther to your side to face him, “Is being incredibly hot a common trait in Monaco? Or is that just a you thing?”
He laughs, caught off guard at your boldness. His eyes trace your lips as you take another drink, almost reaching the bottom of your glass, “Do you wanna get out of here and find out?”
You bite your lip with a smile, glancing over to your friend before looking back at him, “I’d love to…”
He realizes your prompting for his name and quickly fills in the blank, “Charles.”
You perk up and stand from your chair, downing the last dredges of your drink, “I’d love to, Charles.”
Charles thinks he could listen to the sound of his name leaving your lips on repeat for forever.
“What’s your biggest fear?” Your melodic voice rings out in the silence of Charles’ room. He turns over in the bed to face you, eyes searching through the darkness of the room to try and find your eyes.
“I don’t like spiders, really,” He responds after a few moments of thinking. He watches as you glance toward the ceiling, thinking about his answer, “What about you?”
You look back toward him again, searching for a response, “Commitment, maybe.”
It’s not a particularly funny response but Charles still huffs a laugh, turning to pull you to his chest. You shift closer, eyes fluttering closed and head lying still against his skin.
Sleep comes easy for the both of you that night.
Charles’ eyes search his living room frantically, searching each surface thoroughly. He can hear the sound of your footsteps approaching as he moves the pillows around on the couch, tossing them toward the floor carelessly.
“What are you looking for?” You ask him, pulling on one of the many hoodies you had left at his house over your head from its position on the couch.
“My phone, can’t find it,” he replies absently, eyes not leaving the couch cushions. He can hear you approach him and suddenly your comforting hand is on his back. He looks up to see you stood quietly, holding his phone up in one hand.
He smiles down at you, grasping the phone from your fingers and pulling it away gently. But with the way you’re looking at him he seems to forget whatever important thing he had to do on his phone in the first place.
“Where was it?” He hums, eyes locked down on yours below him as he tosses the phone on the couch next to him.
“Left in in bed this morning,” you respond, smile curling up on your lips as you bring both of your hands between the two of you.
You push him back onto the couch and he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you with him. You wraps your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his head.
“Glad you found it,” he doesn’t seem particularly glad about it now, more interested in you on top of him.
“You’re welcome, baby,” you respond and he takes a deep breath at the pet name, fingers rubbing small circles on your waist from their position on your hips.
You reach a hand up and run your hand through his messy hair, leaving Charles to admire your face as you focus on his hair.
The sun filters through the window, hitting your profile just right and Charles can’t help the large grin forming on his face.
He didn’t know a better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, soothing the previous craziness he had started to feel.
“Oh my god I think I saw him!” Charles snaps his head toward your outstretched hand, finger pointing toward a man walking suspiciously down the sidewalk.
Charles eases his foot off the gas pedal of your Lexus, letting the car roll down the road slowly.
“Are you sure that’s him?” Charles asks, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see your friends boyfriend better.
Your friend had told you that she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her so here you and Charles were, riding around picking up clues. You had taken your Lexus since Charles’ car was way too identifiable.
“It’s definitely him, he’s got that giant stupid tattoo on his arm,” you reply, pulling out your phone to snap a few pictures of the man, “Can you follow him?”
Charles nods, turning the car slowly as the man turns a corner, making an attempt to move inconspicuously so the man doesn’t notice.
You start typing rapidly in your phone from the passengers seat, no doubt texting your friend who’s boyfriend you were currently following.
The two of you trail the man for a few blocks, watching as he suddenly walks into a restaurant on the corner.
“Park somewhere,” you call out, turning your head to watch him walk out to an outside table. Charles follows your order and parks the car strategically to where you can see his table through the front window of the car.
The man is alone when he sits down, not ordering anything and pulling out his phone to seemingly text someone.
It gets boring pretty quickly so you lean forward to connect your phone to the aux, deciding on some music to at least pass the time.
The opening notes of a Jackie Wilson song cut through the silence of the car and Charles glances toward the radio, completely unfamiliar with the song.
“What is this?” Charles asks over the sound of the American singers melodic voice. You look away from the man for a moment, a grin big on your face.
“Blues,” you laugh, bobbing along to the song. Charles laughs at your movements, watching as you dance happily, reveling in your joy.
The two of you let a few more songs play through, dancing around and laughing for the better part of an hour. Your attentions only diverted when you glance up and see a woman arriving at the man’s table.
You gasp, eyes widening as you pull your phone out of your pocket to snap a few pictures of the man and the woman at dinner in front of you.
“That dickhead!” you exclaim, turning down the volume of the radio in order to express your point.
Charles hums, eyes locked on the man and woman ahead, “He might not actually be cheating-”
Charles is interrupted by the couple sharing a kiss as the woman sits down and you and Charles lock eyes before bursting into laughter.
“I take it back,” Charles says as his laugh calms down, watching you pull your phone out for pictures once again. This time you catch a kiss and quickly send the picture off to your friend before sliding your phone away.
You seem content with your findings, choosing instead to turn your body and complain about the man you and Charles had been… stalking?
Charles smiles at the passionate look on your face as you defend your friend, putting the car in reverse to pull out of the parking lot.
As you drive home, Jackie Wilson blasts through the speakers, eventually causing the end to your rant as you start to sing along once again. Charles doesn’t know the music or even any of the lyrics but he does know that this is how he wishes to see you all the time, this happy.
When he envisioned your future together, a ring on your finger and two kids running around your house, he imagined you’d want to name them Jackie and Wilson and raise them on this music, rhythm and blues.
He might not be attached to the music or anything but watching how at peace you were made him think he’d grow attached to it pretty soon.
Charles loved racing, of course. But it was nice to escape sometimes. Escape from the stress and the pressures and the fears. Escape from the persistent fans and the expectant team. These days, that escape was you. You and your home in the middle of a field, black irises growing around the outside. Sunshine that shone perfectly down on the two of you as you lay side-by-side, hands intertwined between you.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Charles says, barely above a whisper as if he thought speaking too loud would make it all go away.
You hum, your free hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun as you turn your gaze toward him, a smile drifting onto your perfect features.
“I love you,” you state, proudly, as if it was a simple fact that everyone would know, not an ounce of doubt in your words.
Charles grins, head rolling to the side to lock eyes with you. You blush under his eyes and a small laugh escapes your lips, lips that he so badly wanted to kiss in that moment.
“I love you too,” He eventually responds, his free hand creeping through the grass beside him, fingers wrapping around an iris before gently pulling the flower out of the ground.
Your cheeks heat even hotter as he says the words, your hand moving to cover your face. Charles pulls your hand away, moving your face toward him as he does. He slides the flower over your ear, brushing away a lone strand of grass as he does. His hand doesn’t stray from your face though. Instead, it rests against your cheek, pulling you in gently for a kiss.
You let him pull you, free hand flowing up his arm and over his shoulder to run through the hair at the nape of his neck.
Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to love someone the way he loves you in this moment.
Images of your future flash through his mind once again, every milestone being pictures with you by his side. Kids, marriage, hopefully a championship. He only wanted it if you were by his side.
Charles’ eyes snap open at the sound of his door opening, watching as you slip through it before closing it gently behind you. No doubt off to go back to that friend you had mentioned you were visiting earlier that night at the bar.
He rubs the sleep out of his eyes that stay trained on his ceiling, thoughts running rampant through his sleep-addled brain. He slips out of the bed, moving to walk out on his balcony, hoping the fresh air will cool his heated face. He watches as your car moves away from the apartment, getting smaller and smaller as it moves down the road.
He doesn’t understand the sick feeling in his stomach as he watches you leave. He’d only known you for a few hours, the only thing he knew about you was your name and the fact you were leaving Monaco the next day. But he still felt like throwing up at the thought of a future between you that didn’t exist.
He eventually moves back into his room, trying his best to forget the random hook-up and fall back asleep. But as he moves to plug his phone in, he can’t help as he moves to play some music lowly through the device.
He finally gets his eyes to drift close, a Jackie Wilson song echoing quietly around the room.
—————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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aphrogeneias · 4 months
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1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
this screams eddie omg
best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader + we’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
warnings: a bit of perv!eddie. a tiny bit. mentions of oral sex (fem receiving) and fingering. i kind of went a little off the prompt? oopsies?
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Eddie can't pay attention.
He should be. Dustin is going to quiz him about this movie’s entire plot, ask him who his favorite characters were, what he thought of the lore. The boy, a senior now, much to his disbelief, had begged him to go see it after watching it himself.
It's not like he's hard to convince. A noble dwarf sent on a quest to save an innocent child from an evil sorceress. His bread and butter. Extra buttery popcorn, chocolate, you. Right beside him, wearing his jacket, feet tucked under yourself as you lean sideways over him, bare knees touching his denim covered thighs.
You're barely touching, but he can't help but let his eyes travel to your thighs, stretching the skirt you are wearing. The hand he keeps diligently on the arm rest flexes, the other grips his drink harder.
This attraction isn't new — it has been here since you started tutoring him on English at the start of his last senior year, and it remained, ever blossoming, every time you were around him — but his wandering thoughts recently grew a mind of their own.
The film’s dialogue and epic soundtrack are only background to his own private fantasy. Eddie can barely touch the popcorn, barely listen to your commentary, as he thinks of what he'd do if you let him do what he couldn't stop thinking about.
Would you let him touch you? Slide a hand over your thigh, feel your skin under his palm. Would it be as soft as he imagined? Softer, maybe. He thinks about what you would do if you let him squeeze you as he wanted, part your thighs with his rough hands, spread you open.
You're sitting in the back, no one would catch you. Would you be quiet as he kneeled at your feet? Would you be quiet if he asked? He'd ask nicely. You'd be good, he knew you would.
Would you bite your lip, taste your own lip gloss the way he dreamed of tasting, as he pulled your panties past your hips, and down your legs? What color would they be? Red, black, white? Cotton or lace? He wanted to taste them. He could practically smell you.
Would you keep quiet as he feasted on you, made out with your pussy like he wanted to? How would you sound keeping those sweet moans back, biting your hand, pouting those lips at him? Would you whimper, would you pull his hair? God, he wanted you to.
He wanted to suck on your clit until your pretty eyes rolled back in your head. Fuck you with his tongue until you cream on his mouth, and squeezed his head between your thighs. Would you let him fuck you with fingers after? Would you feel as tight, as warm, as he dreamed? He knew you would.
“Eds?”
A snap of your fingers brings him back to reality. You're still in the same position, he's still staring straight forward, eyes glazed, mind far. His head snaps to the side, meeting your gaze. “Hey. Yeah?”
“Are you listening to me? Where were you, man?”
You're whispering, a smile on your face. Your face is closer, and his eyes wander yet again, this time to your lips. He's still not paying attention — his Levi’s feel tighter, his heart is racing. His mind must be playing a trick on him, because your eyes are also wandering, to his lips and back up.
“I'm here.” His voice falters.
“You sure?” You don't move. Your perfume makes him dizzy, but he doesn't move either.
“I'm all ears, sweetheart.”
You chuckle, “Forget about it.”
It feels like a test. It must be, because you're resting your head against his shoulder, and going quiet again. Something different hangs in the air.
He's still gripping his arm seat. He's still not paying attention.
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month
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Butterfly Fantasies (Older!Rafe Cameron x Reader)
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Summary: You’ve been teasing Rafe for months and when he sees you flirting with another man, it’s his final straw. Wk: 3.4k
This is a prompt from me & @babygorewhore’s writing game!! Feel free to click the link and come play with us✨
Warnings: Rafe is your dad’s best friend, age gap (Rafe is late 30s Reader is early 20s), daddy kink, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, breeding kink, hair pulling, degradation 18+MDNI!!
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You know it’s wrong, parading yourself around like this for your dad’s best friend. You had just finished your final year of college so you were home staying with your dad for the summer. But every single time you saw Rafe it was like your body was on fire. Him and your dad have been friends and business partners for years now. But you had only ever met Rafe once before, a few years ago at your dad’s wedding. You thought he was sexy then and somehow he’s even sexier now. He’s always coming over for drinks, or to go out on the boat, sometimes he and your dad talk business in his office.
But it felt like he was just always around. Wearing those expensive business suits with his hair slicked back perfectly. On days when he and your dad went out on the boat he would come over in shorts that were just a tad bit too short and those tight t-shirts or button ups, his thick biceps on display. When you’d run into him at the country club he always looked so fucking delicious in his golf outfit. That tight polo taunt against his shoulders, the way his large hands dwarfed the handles of the clubs. His hair was messier on those days, the ends of it sticking out from the cap on his head. You wanted to tear it off, lace your fingers through his hair and tug on it when it was void of its usual product.
It didn’t help that he was always looking at you. His eyes roaming your figure with a smug smirk on his face for just a little too long. The way he would send you little winks when your dad wasn’t looking. Resting his hand on the small of your back when he walks past you in the kitchen or in the hall. He was always calling you little nicknames like “doll” and “sweetheart. He even called you “princess” once and you thought you were going to cum untouched. You wanted to be his little princess so bad. So you started playing dirty.
Whenever you saw him you made sure to walk around in your skimpiest outfits. You’d lounge by the pool in your tiniest little micro bikinis, rubbing sunscreen on your skin causing it to glisten. You would wear your shortest dresses with thongs so small they might as well not even be there, bending over under the guise of “grabbing something out of the fridge” when he was standing behind you in the kitchen. Once you learned that he went to the country club every Sunday for brunch and golf, you signed up for Sunday tennis lessons.
Those days just might be your favorite. Your tennis outfit consisted of a tiny little white tennis skirt that barely covered your ass and an even tinier white sports bra that showed off your cleavage perfectly. It was just a bonus that your tennis instructor was hot and your age. It also didn’t hurt that Rafe could see the tennis court perfectly from the brunch table he always sat at. You’d make eye contact with him over your instructor's shoulder from afar while you grasped onto his bicep and giggled. If you weren’t mistaken you could just make out a slight switch in his jaw. He might be nineteen years older than you but you aren’t stupid, you can tell when a man wants you.
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Rafe wants you bad. He’s been trying really fucking hard to restrain himself but it’s almost impossible when you’re constantly walking around in those little fucking outfits. Giving him that little smirk with that glint in your eye like you know you’re torturing him. He can’t stop thinking about you. When he’s working, when he’s golfing, when his hand is wrapped around his thick cock at night. Even when he’s buried balls deep in some bored housewife. All he can think about is you.
The way those little bikinis hardly cover anything but your nipples, and bottoms sitting so high on your ass they’re practically being swallowed. Those tiny little sun dresses that you seemed to always be bending over in, flashing him those pretty barely there panties that show the outline of your pussy. That fucking tennis outfit and that little douche bag tennis instructor whose hands he wants to cut off each time he has to watch him touch you.
But there’s one specific instance that won’t leave his mind, playing like a movie on repeat in his head. You were wearing these tiny little jean shorts with a little tiny crop top. You were sitting at the bar in the kitchen, eating a fucking banana of all things. But the way you were bent over to rest your elbows on the counter made your shorts ride down just enough to show off your thong and the little butterfly tramp stamp you had right above your ass. He stood there with his mouth agape for what could’ve been minutes or hours, he doesn’t know. He was stuck, completely enthralled by the sight of you. He felt himself starting to get hard when you looked over your shoulder at him, a smug smile painted across your glossed lips.
“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.” You held eye contact with him while you finished off the last of your banana before standing up, winking at him, and walking away without another word. Leaving him so fucking hard and incredibly frustrated.
His final straw though? Your dad was throwing a celebration party for the company because they closed a huge deal and you were parading around in yet another barely there dress with all his coworkers and their sons ogling you. Currently Rafe was watching you with his jaw clenched so hard he feels like his teeth might break and he’s surprised the thin glass in his hand is still intact with the grip he has on it. You’re standing across the yard from him, that little white backless dress hugging every inch of your body so perfectly, showing off the expanse of your back and ending right at the top of your ass, flashing that little tiny tattoo to every single person here. When he’s the only one that should know about it.
The son of one of his employees rests his hands on your hips, leaning in to whisper something in your ear all while you maintain eye contact with him from across the yard, he has to physically stop himself from going over there and slamming the guy’s head into the bar. When you smirk at him, sending him a little wink before dragging the guy inside the house? He’s absolutely had it.
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You had Rafe right where you wanted him, there was no doubting it now. The way he was staring daggers at every man that even glanced your way and the way his eyes hungrily drank you in as they followed your every move said it all. You wanted to know how far you could push him, if he would really snap and finally make a move. So you took it upon yourself to flirt with the cutest guy your age there. You really laid it on thick, giggling at all his jokes, running your hands down his chest, letting him grip your hips and whisper in your ear. All while Rafe watched with a death glare. You didn’t have to keep your eyes on him to know he was looking, but sending him little smirks and glances over the guy's shoulder was just too good to resist. Especially when you decided to drag the guy into the house with you, making sure Rafe watched you walk away.
“Do you want a drink? My dad keeps all the best shit in here.” You smile at him, you don’t even remember his name, it doesn’t matter anyways, he’s nothing but a means to an end.
“Yeah, I’ll take a drink, but I think I’d like to taste you more.” You internally gag at his cheesy line but still offer him a suggestive smile as you jump up on the counter with your legs spread just enough for him to get a glance at your panties.
“Come here then.” You beckon him with your finger and he comes to stand between your legs, resting his hands on your hips again.
“You’re really hot, you know that?” You snort, thanking him for his base level fuck boy compliment as he leans in for a kiss. Before his lips can even graze yours he’s being pulled backwards back the collar of his dress shirt. An extremely pissed looking Rafe glaring down at the smaller man.
“Get lost.” He practically growls, shoving the guy backwards by the grip he had on his collar.
“Hey man, what’s your fucking problem?”
“I said to get fuckin’ lost, fuck off before I break your fuckin’ legs.” The dude scoffs and rolls his eyes as he walks off. The minute you and Rafe are alone his hands are resting on the counter on either side of your hips, his face inches from yours. “You think this is funny, little girl? You wanna play games? I suggest you don’t start something you can’t fuckin’ finish.”
“Games? What games? I’m not play any games. I think I was being pretty straight forward with that guy.” Rafe exhales through his nose, grabbing onto your jaw with his large hand, squeezing your cheeks together.
“That guy?” He scoffs, shaking your head back and forth. “You know I’m not fuckin’ talking about him, doll. Don’t play dumb with me. Get up.”
“I’m not a dog, I don’t bark on command.” He laughs at that, actually laughs.
“Oh, baby, we’ll fuckin’ see about that. Up.” He releases his grip on your jaw and backs up as he looks at you expectantly. You mull over your options for about two seconds before sliding off the counter. The minute the heels of your boots hit the expensive linoleum, Rafe's large ringed hand grasps onto your forearm, pulling you into the nearest room. He shuts the door behind you, pushing you up against it and trapping you between him and the wood. “You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?”
“Yeah? That’s exactly what I was hoping for…” You smirk at him, looking up at him through your lashes.
“You really think this is a fuckin’ joke, huh?” Rafe chuckles darkly, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He grabs onto your throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your airflow. “You trying to get me in trouble? You know how fucking pissed your dad would be if he found out about this?”
“Mmm… I figure if he disowns me you could just be my daddy instead.” He groans, using his grip on your throat to manhandle you over to the desk. Your dad’s desk to be exact. You were so worked up you didn’t even process that he pulled you into his office.
“You’re a fuckin’ brat. Looks like someone needs to teach you some manners, little girl.” Rafe presses your face against the desk, using his other hand to pull your hips up so your ass is in the air. The same hand hikes your dress above your ass before landing a harsh smack on it. The sound echoes through the room, accompanied by the loud moan that rips through you. “Bet your spoiled ass has never been spanked a day in your life. Bet you get whatever you want, whenever you want. But not with me, daddy’s gonna make you beg for it.”
He lands another smack on your bare ass, your tiny thong covering absolutely nothing. Then another. And another. He keeps you in place by his hand pressing onto the side of your head causing your cheek to press against the cold wood of the desk. Little whimpers and moans fall from your lips as
your writhe underneath him.
“Gonna leave this ass covered in my hand prints, then when you walk around in those tiny little bikinis you’ll either think twice about teasing me or you’ll have to explain it to anyone who sees.” Both of his large hands come down on your cheeks at once before one comes from below, landing a harsh smack on your cunt.
“Oh fuck, daddy.” Your eyes roll back and drool starts to drip down your chin when he smacks your pussy again before pulling your panties to the side, the cool air of the room hitting your wet folds.
“Yeah, that’s right, slut, I’m your fucking daddy. Look at this pussy, you’re so wet. Just from this? You like getting treated like a whore?” Rafe smacks your bare pussy, the metal of his rings adding a delicious sting. “You sure as hell like acting like one. Parading around in those skimpy little outfits, trying to seduce a man twice your age.”
“I fucking love it daddy, want you so bad, just wanted your attention.” You whine, wiggling your hips. “Please touch me.”
“Please touch me.” He mocks you as he smacks your clit three times in succession. “I am touching you, doll. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”
“Please daddy, please, I’ll do anything you want. You can fuck my pussy till it’s sore, fuck my ass, cum inside me, breed me, anything. Just please.”
The next thing you feel is two thick fingers being inserted knuckle deep in your pussy. Rafe curls them against your sweet spot before thrusting them in and out of you at a quick pace.
“Fuckin’ listen to that shit, you’re so wet for me. You’re dirty. You want me to fuck your ass and breed you? That what you sit around thinking about all day?” You’re about to respond but the feeling of his thumb on your clit has you moaning and pushing back against his hand. He grabs onto your hair, pulling your head back so he can lean over you with his lips pressed to your ear. “Answer the fuckin’ question, princess. Know you can’t be fucked dumb from just my fingers.”
“Yes! Yes, I think about you fucking me on every inch of this house. I think about you filling me with your cum until I’m knocked up. About being your little barefoot and pregnant wife. Want to shove the fact that I’m the one that gets you in all those old country club bitches faces.” Well he wasn’t expecting all of that, but he’s not complaining. Now that he’s thinking about it, it doesn’t sound so bad. He picks up the speed of his fingers, applying harder pressure to your clit just as he yanks on your hair, exposing your neck so he can lick across the expanse of it, sending you over the edge.
“That’s it, baby girl, cum for me, cum for daddy.” He pulls his fingers out and you can’t see but you hear the sound of him sucking them clean, accompanied by a groan. “Look at you, you don’t have any idea what you do to me, do you?”
He runs his large hand down your back, stopping just above your ass to trace his fingertips across your tattoo.
“What do I do to you daddy? Tell me.” He spanks your ass again, earning a little yelp from you.
“Don’t start getting sassy on me again. I’m calling the shots. But you drive me insane. Prancing around in those little bikinis, flashing me your slutty panties, this god damn tattoo.”
Rafe leans down, placing a kiss on it before licking across it. He hooks his fingers in the bands of your thong, pushing it down your legs. You try to kick your boots off to get it off your ankles but Rafe stops you, pulling them off himself.
“Keep the boots on.” Rafe grabs onto your ass, spreading you open for him before leaning down to spit on your asshole, watching it drip down onto your already soaked cunt. You feel his thumb rub down your slit right before he shoves his tongue as deep as it can go inside your pussy.
“Oh fuuuuuck, daddy that’s so good, thank you thank you.” Rafe eats you out like a man starved, nearly drunk off the sound of your moans and the taste of your sweet cunt. He leans down to suck your clit between his plump lips and you feel yourself getting close, clenching around nothing. And it’s like he reads your mind because seconds later he’s thrusting his fingers inside you, rubbing them up against your g-spot and sending you into an orgasm that makes your entire body shake. “Shit daddy, yesyesyes, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.”
He leans up, grips onto your hips, and flips you over with ease, propping you up on the desk. He grabs onto your face and connects your lips in a filthy kiss. His tongue intangles with yours, flooding your mouth with the taste of yourself mixed with him and it makes your head spin.
“Take this fuckin’ dress off.” He grabs onto the straps, pushing them off your shoulders so he can yank it down your legs. “No bra? God damn, princess, look at these perfect tits, shit.” He yanks off his shirt before undoing his pants, pushing them down his hips. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the sight of his cock. “Yeah baby, this isn’t some twenty something loser cock, this is what a real man’s dick looks like. Beg for it.”
“Daddy, please fuck me, please, I want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me so everyone on the island knows you I belong to.” You push your hips forward, spreading your legs further. Rafe decides that’s enough for him, roughly grabbing onto your hip with one hand and using the other to line his cock up with your entrance. He pushes inside you with one thrust, your tight wet pussy practically sucking him in.
“Ah, shit, you’re so fucking tight.” Rafe grabs onto your ankles, throwing them over his shoulders so he can fuck you even deeper. “Been dreaming about this pussy for months. Been dreaming about this sexy little body. Look at these perfect tits. Perfect legs. So fucking soft. Such a good little slut for daddy.”
He grabs onto your throat as he continues to split you open on his cock, his other hand finds your clit and it has you clenching around him. The desk is slamming against the ground and you’re both moaning so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire party heard you outside through the music and all the walls. But you didn’t care, especially not as you gushed around Rafe’s cock.
“Yeah that’s right, fuckin’ give it to me, cum all over my cock. Gonna fill you up, gonna give you a baby just like you want, don’t even give a fuck what anybody thinks. I’m not ever quitting this pussy.” Rafe lets go of your throat to so he can wrap your legs around his hips, grabbing onto your ass as he fucks into you at a brutal pace, chasing his own high.
“Yeah daddy, fucking give it to me, fill me up, want it so bad.” You run your perfectly manicured nails down his back and it does him in. He presses his hips flush against yours as his cock twitches inside of you, filling you with ropes of his cum. The moans leaving him are your never favorite song that you want to listen to on repeat for the rest of your life. When he comes down from his high he lets his cock slip out of you before gathering the bit of cum that leaked out on his fingers, shoving it back inside.
“Can’t waste any, can we?” He brings his slick fingers to your lips and you happily suck them clean. He pulls them from your mouth before leaning in to place a much gentler kiss on your lips.
“I’m sorry about all that stuff I said I totally understand if you wanna forget this ever happened I-“ he shushes you, kissing you again.
“I’m not forgetting shit, princess. You’re mine now. Gonna fuck you full until it takes and then make you my pretty little housewife. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.”
Your dad was going to be so fucking pissed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when you finally got exactly what you wanted.
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Taglist: @voyeurmunson @oceandriveab @munson-mjstan @rafesthroatbaby 🖤
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murdrdocs · 1 year
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saber tooth | f. odair
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description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish 
includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair
a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish
word count: 4k+ 
part 2
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A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you. 
The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games. 
The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night. 
All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things. 
The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center. 
“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool. 
Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake. 
Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?” 
You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite. 
With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are. 
“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you. 
“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up. 
He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap. 
“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position. 
You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you. 
The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours. 
“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other. 
“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.” 
You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode. 
Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games. 
He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you. 
“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it.  “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title. 
Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could. 
“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps. 
“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you. 
“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.” 
“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is. 
He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” 
“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do. 
He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips. 
Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.” 
Your eyebrows furrow. 
“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”
“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod. 
“So, what d’you want?” 
You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago. 
“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks. 
He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.” 
“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two. 
“I can’t.” 
His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin. 
“Yes, you can.” 
“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop. 
“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.” 
You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you. 
You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this. 
There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do. 
“Even take my virginity?” 
The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink. 
You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body. 
“Forget it. I’m sor–” 
“Yes.” 
“What?” 
“Yes.” 
There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face. 
“Finn…” 
“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…” 
“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.” 
And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips. 
Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?” 
“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you. 
He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you. 
You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess. 
Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso. 
You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right. 
Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you. 
When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined. 
The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap. 
It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place. 
He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. 
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?” 
“Okay.” 
And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons. 
He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons. 
Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease. 
When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting. 
“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips. 
His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there. 
“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.” 
His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you. 
“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too. 
Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present. 
He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised. 
It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.” 
The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way. 
You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey. 
The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed. 
Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory. 
Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him. 
It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action. 
His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt. 
When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?” 
His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory. 
You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively. 
“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge. 
You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.” 
And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit. 
A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress. 
Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him. 
Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.” 
He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts. 
It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses. 
You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more. 
You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance. 
You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls. 
Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance. 
“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt. 
“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give. 
It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind. 
Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released. 
“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.” 
You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive. 
It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans. 
Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips. 
“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.” 
“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you. 
“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving. 
You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back. 
You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders. 
Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation. 
Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his. 
“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.” 
Your heart drops. 
“Huh?” 
“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.” 
Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly. 
“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.” 
“You’re so full of yourself.” 
He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?” 
And you do. Wholeheartedly. 
3K notes · View notes
valkyriexo · 1 month
Text
You Faint | Bang Chan
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ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,
ᑉ³warnings; Fainting due to Dehydration and being busy, mentions of not eating, mentions of not drinking water, kissing, Implied Female reader, Established relationship
ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon!
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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In the flurry of your responsibilities as a personal assistant to the CEO of a massive corporation, every second counts, every task critical to the smooth functioning of the business. Despite the hunger gnawing at your stomach and the parched feeling in your throat, you soldier on, driven by the need to ensure that everything operates seamlessly for your employer.
Hours blur together as you navigate the demands of the corporate world, your own needs pushed to the sidelines in the relentless pursuit of success. The weight of expectations presses down on you with each passing moment, propelling you forward even as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you. You don't have time to notice the way your limbs grow heavy with fatigue, the world around you fading into a distant blur as you push yourself beyond your limits.
But as the day wears on, your body begins to rebel against the neglect it's been subjected to. Dizziness clouds your vision, a warning sign of the toll the day's exertions have taken. With every step, your limbs grow heavier, protesting against the punishing pace you've been maintaining.
And then, without warning, it all becomes too much. Your vision blurs, black spots dancing at the edges as dizziness overwhelms your senses. Your knees buckle beneath you, unable to support the weight of your weakened body, and before you can even comprehend what's happening, darkness claims you.
As consciousness slowly seeps back into your awareness, you find yourself nestled on the plush couch of the CEO's office, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. Your head throbs with the remnants of your fainting spell, a dull ache echoing through your skull.
Blinking groggily, you glance around the room, your eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. To your surprise, you find yourself surrounded by two or three other assistants, their faces etched with concern as they hover nearby, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Hey, are you okay?" one of them asks, her voice laced with worry as she kneels beside you, her hand hovering over your forehead. "You gave us quite a scare there."
You nod weakly, the events of the day slowly coming back to you in fragmented pieces. "I... I think so," you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion.
The other assistants exchange worried glances, their concern palpable in the air. "You should rest for a bit," another assistant suggests, her tone gentle as she helps you sit up, offering you a glass of water.
Taking a sip, you feel the cool liquid soothe your parched throat, the sensation a welcome relief. As you lean back against the cushions, you're grateful for the support of your colleagues, their presence a comforting reminder that you're not alone in your struggles.
"Thanks," you murmur, offering them a weak smile. "I appreciate it."
"We were so worried about you," one of them says, her voice filled with genuine concern. "You gave us quite the scare."
You offer a weak smile, still feeling disoriented and unsure of what happened. "I'm sorry," you mumble, your words barely audible.
Another assistant nods sympathetically. "We called for help," she explains gently. "We wanted to make sure you were okay."
You furrow your brow, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Called for help." you repeat, the words sinking in slowly.
Your mind feels foggy, memories hazy and fragmented, making it difficult to grasp the severity of the situation. The concern in the assistant's eyes only adds to your growing sense of unease, prompting a knot of anxiety to tighten in your chest.
Before anyone can elaborate further, the door to the CEO's office swings open, and Chan rushes in, his expression a mix of panic and relief. "I got here as fast as I could," he says breathlessly, his eyes darting around the room until they land on you. "Are you okay? What happened?"
You swallow hard, the reality of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. They called Chan, your emergency contact, before they even called the paramedics. You feel a pang of guilt knowing that he's here now, worrying about you, when you hadn't wanted to burden him.
As Chan rushes to your side, his expression a mix of relief and concern, you can see the worry etched into every line of his face. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to grasp yours, his touch both reassuring and desperate.
"I... I don't know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I fainted, I think."
Chan's eyes widen with alarm, his grip on your hand tightening. "You fainted?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. Chan's concern deepens, his brows furrowing with worry. "Do you know why?" he asks gently. "Did you eat today? Drink enough water?"
You shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, the guilt of neglecting your own well-being weighing heavily on you. "I... I may have forgotten," you admit sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.
His expression softens with understanding, but a flicker of frustration dances in his eyes. "Y/N.."
"I just didn't have time," you whine, feeling the weight of his disappointment settle over you. "I have deadlines to meet, and it's been really busy here with the CEO prepping for a major partnership with another company. Plus, I'm in line for a promotion, Chan. If I do well, it's almost guaranteed. But if I fail, then I have no shot."
Chan's expression doesn’t give much away, but his resolve remains firm. "It's not that important," he insists, his tone gentle but firm. "There will always be other opportunities. Your health should come first."
You shake your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Not everyone can lead and be super talented like you, Chan," you argue, your voice tinged with emotion. "Some of us have to work twice as hard just to keep up."
"I know it feels that way," he says gently, as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. "You're already doing more than enough," he assures you, his gaze unwavering. "But your health should never be sacrificed for success."
You sigh, feeling the weight of his words settling over you. "I know," you whisper, your voice heavy with resignation.
Chan's hums at your response, his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment longer before he reluctantly withdraws. "Let's go home," he says gently, " You need rest."
With a heavy heart, you rise from the couch, your legs trembling beneath you as the full extent of your exhaustion becomes apparent. Chan's eyes widen in concern as he notices your struggle, his expression softening with empathy.
"Here, let me help you," he says, moving to your side and slipping an arm around your waist for support.
You lean into him gratefully, feeling the warmth of his embrace. With Chan's steadying presence, you manage to make your way out of the CEO's office and towards the elevator, your fatigue pressing down on you with each step.
As you reach the lobby, Chan guides you towards the exit, but when you attempt to take a step forward, your legs buckle beneath you, weakened by fatigue. Chan's eyes widen in alarm, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he catches you before you fall.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
You nod weakly, feeling embarrassed by your inability to stand on your own two feet. "I'm just... really tired," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Without hesitation, Chan sweeps you up into his arms, his strength a reassuring presence against your exhausted frame. "Let's get you home," he says softly, his voice filled with tenderness.
You nestle into his embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms as he carries you out of the building and towards the waiting car.
Once you're settled into the car, Chan drives you home with careful attention, his concern never wavering as he steals glances at you from time to time. When you finally arrive at your apartment, he helps you out of the car and guides you inside, his arm wrapped protectively around you.
As you enter the cozy sanctuary of your home, Chan guides you towards the couch. However, he senses your hesitation, the way you lean heavily on him as if struggling to keep your balance.
"You need to rest," he insists softly, his voice laced with concern as he helps you settle onto the cushions. Despite his gentle urging, you remain silent, the weariness evident in every line of your body.
"I feel gross," you finally murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, admitting to the discomfort that weighs heavily on you.
Chan's brows furrow with worry, his gaze searching your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. Seeing your distress, he nods in understanding.
"Would you like to take a shower?" he suggests gently, his tone filled with empathy. He waits patiently for your response, ready to provide the support and comfort you need
You shake your head slowly, a feeling of exhaustion washing over you. "I don't think I have the energy," you confess, feeling a pang of guilt at the admission.
Chan's expression fills with empathy as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. "That's okay," he reassures you, his voice soft and comforting. "Why don't we start with something smaller? Like washing your hair?"
You blink back tears, starting to feel overwhelmed. "I just... I feel so drained," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.
Chan nods sympathetically, his gaze filled with compassion. "I understand," he says softly, his words a soothing balm to your weary soul. "Let's take it one step at a time, okay?
As Chan helps you make your way to the bathroom, you feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs. With his steady support, you settle on the edge of the bathtub, feeling drained and weak. Chan kneels beside you, his gentle hands reaching for the shower head. His concerned gaze meeting yours.
"Lean back," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet bathroom. You obey, allowing your head to rest against the edge of the tub as Chan pours the water over your hair, the liquid cascading down in a comforting stream.
The sensation of the warm water against your scalp is both soothing and revitalizing, washing away the weariness that has settled deep within your bones. Chan's touch is tender, his fingers massaging your scalp with care as he works shampoo into your hair, creating a rich lather that fills the air with a subtle scent of eucalyptus.
As Chan tenderly tends to your needs, a wave of helplessness crashes over you, leaving you feeling small and useless. The inability to perform even the simplest tasks on your own gnaws at you, a constant reminder of your vulnerability. You watch as Chan effortlessly takes care of everything, his competence highlighting your own shortcomings.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you struggle to suppress the rising tide of frustration and self-doubt. "I hate feeling like this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, tinged with the bitterness of inadequacy.
"Like what?" Chan's voice is gentle, his concern evident as he seeks to understand you.
"Helpless," you confess, the word heavy with emotion.
Chan notices the heaviness in your sigh and the sorrow in your eyes, and his heart aches with empathy. Leaning closer, he places a soft kiss on your lips.
"You're not helpless, love," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with affection. "You're just taking a break. Everyone needs a little help sometimes, even superheroes like you."
His words are like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with love and understanding.
"You're my baby," he whispers, "And I'll always be here to take care of you, no matter what."
As Chan rinses the shampoo from your hair, the water running clear and pure, you feel a sense of renewal wash over you. With each gentle stroke of his hands, you can feel your energy slowly returning, a flicker of hope igniting within your chest.
When the task is finally complete, Chan reaches for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around your shoulders with care. He helps you to stand, guiding you away from the bathtub.
"Let's dry your hair a bit so you don't go to bed with it wet," he suggests, his lips forming a shy smile. He grabs a hairdryer, carefully adjusting the settings before starting to blow dry your hair, the warm air a comforting embrace against your skin.
As he works, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, the sound of the hairdryer a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Chan concentrates intently, his brow furrowing as he focuses on the task at hand. His brow furrows in concentration, his lips pursed in determination as he attempts to weave the strands of your hair into a braid. With each failed attempt, a mixture of frustration and amusement flickers across his features, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.
You can't help but find his earnest efforts endearing, and a soft chuckle escapes your lips as you watch him work. The sound fills the small bathroom, mingling with the gentle patter of water droplets.
"Where did you learn to braid?" you ask, genuine curiosity in your tone.
Chan looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I've been teaching myself," he admits, his fingers still fumbling with the strands of your hair. "I thought... one day, when we have kids together, I want to be able to braid their hair. I want to be the kind of dad who can do that."
His vulnerability touches your heart, and you reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a tender smile playing on your lips. "You'll be an amazing dad," you assure him, your voice filled with love and admiration. "And you're already an amazing partner."
"I want to be better,"he says softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "For you."
He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His lips are soft against yours. As he pulls away, his eyes shimmering with adoration, he presses another tender kiss to your forehead before returning to his task.
"You did great," Chan whispers, his voice filled with pride and admiration, as he guides you to your bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, comforting light across the room as he fusses over you, fluffing pillows and tucking blankets around you until you're cocooned in warmth.
With gentle hands, he arranges the pillows behind you, ensuring you're propped up just right for maximum comfort. He tucks the blankets snugly around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring as he ensures every corner is tucked in securely.
After making sure you're settled, Chan disappears into the kitchen, the faint clinking of dishes drifting through the air as he prepares your meal. Moments later, he returns with a tray laden with food – a simple yet nourishing meal, prepared with love.
The aroma of home-cooked food fills the room, mingling with the soft scent of freshly laundered sheets. Chan sets the tray down on your bedside table, arranging the dishes with care before settling in beside you.
As you eat, Chan sits close by, his warmth radiating beside you. He regales you with stories and jokes, his laughter filling the room with a sense of joy and ease. Each tale is punctuated by his infectious laughter, and despite your weariness, you can't help but smile at his antics.
As you finish your meal, feeling the warmth of the food spreading through your body, Chan rises from his seat beside you, his movements fluid and graceful as he clears away the dishes. The clinking of plates and silverware fills the air as he tidies up, his attention to detail evident in every gesture.
Once the dishes are cleared, Chan returns to your side, settling in beside you on the bed. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne envelops you, soothing away the remnants of tension that linger in your muscles.
With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to him, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. Chan presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch a silent reassurance that everything will be okay.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, his voice low and raw. As he speaks, he guides your hand to his chest, letting you feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath his shirt.
"Every time you're in pain or in danger," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper, "it's like my whole world stops."
You feel a lump form in your throat, a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "It wasn't on purpose."
Chan shakes his head, his grip tightening around you as if afraid to let go. "I know," he says softly. "But I need you to promise me something."
"What?" you ask.
"Promise me that you'll always try your best to care of yourself," he says, his tone earnest. "Promise me that you won't push yourself too hard, that you'll listen to your body and prioritize your health."
You meet his gaze, seeing the depth of his concern reflected in his eyes. With a nod, you offer him a small smile, filled with gratitude and determination.
"I promise," you vow, your voice steady with conviction.
Chan's eyes soften, a tender smile playing on his lips. "And I promise in return," he says softly, "to always be there when you need me, or a little extra help."
He settles back against the pillows, pulling you with him until you're both comfortable. As you nestle into each other, Chan reaches for the remote control, flicking through the channels until he finds a movie that catches your interest.
The soft glow of the TV bathes the room in a warm, flickering light as the movie begins to play. You rest your head against Chan's chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat getting faster beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, a reminder of the love and stability that he brings into your life.
As the movie unfolds, you lose yourself in the story, the worries and stresses of the day fading into the background. With Chan by your side, you feel safe and at peace, cocooned in a bubble of love and warmth.
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ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
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satoruhour · 11 months
Note
if you haven’t done it yet! aftercare with gojo?
a/n: oh i just HAD to write this thank u for the prompt mirah <3
warnings: unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink but it’s described as briefly as possible
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he used to think aftercare was sort of boring? i feel it’s because he never really found the right person so he usually does the bare minimum, cleaning his partner up, getting them water and making them feel comfortable
but he always felt empty inside after they fall asleep, always keeping his distance no matter what
that was until he got together with you and he feels like he’s been missing out on so much
i have a headcanon he’s so unused to affection that his partner will be the one to introduce aftercare to him
like foreplay, aftercare can anything you want it to be!
and he laughs at your comment, fingers shaking from how much he liked you when you sink into his side with the tv droning on at the back
gojo loves all forms of aftercare but i feel he would love a few minutes of cuddling and skin to skin contact before you actually clean up
always has a packet of wet tissues on the bedside table and a glass of sweet sweet tea
it’s kinda gross bc of how sweet it is and if you have a sweet tooth too then good for you
but otherwise it’s insanely sweet, and he uses his cursed energy to heat up the tea!!! waow
but if you dont want hot tea then u gotta drink lukewarm tea sorry
he always carries you. dont try to fight him but he loves to take care of you after sex. loves to wash ur hair and body and you’ll do it back to him :)
sometimes it escalates to another round but most times he likes the two of you in the quietness of the bathroom and just the swooshes of the water
he doesn’t prefer the bathtub or shower more but he’ll pick what you like and go along with it
if you still have energy he likes to watch random youtube videos like cat memes or funny videos (the ones he picks are not exactly funny however…)
you two rarely watch movies bc they’re really long but if you do you’re usually the one to fall asleep bc gojo is naturally replenishing himself with his technique. and also he likes to watch you sleep
creep
he takes photos of you when you’re asleep in his arms and he shows it to you the next day but one day youre suggesting to him that maybe he can fall asleep first
and when he stops his CT it’s like … woah. he falls asleep so soundly in your arms that it’s adorable and now he’s more open to being tucked under your arms to succumb to sleep first
that time also allows you to say your confessions softly and to admire him without any teasing
this time is very soft and delicate and intimate and satoru thinks it’s his favourite, but then again every moment with you is a blessing ♡
the air is thick and musky with sex, skin laced with tear stains while gojo continues to rock into you long after you’ve cummed, moans and pants leaving your mouth with whispers of satoru’s name. the kisses he litters there makes your skin tingle before he’s releasing in you, and it’s thick, filling you up while his lips meet yours passionately, muttering confessions with a smile.
“baby…” gojo pokes your cheek, your expression close to pure bliss from the orgasm that he’s a little worried but he knows you’re being dramatic. it’s something you picked up from him. “you okay?”
your eyes crack open a bit as your hands make their way to his cheeks, feeling the fat of his cheeks fill up your hands when he smiles. with a free hand, his hand engulfs yours, planting a kiss to it and the smile-turned-grin he gives you is blinding before he decides it’s been too long that he’s kissed you.
slipping out of you, he pulls you closer with an arm while the other brushes the sweat-filled hair from your forehead, lips capturing yours softly. you move together, languid and slow and satoru cannot stop smiling as he pulls away, drunk on you.
“let’s get you clean, hm?” gojo plants one more peck on you after twenty minutes; twenty minutes of talking in whispers and kissing (satoru’s doing). he waits for your outstretched arms, hooking his own under your neck and knees just as you plead for him to carry you. “such a big baby.”
you giggle, mumbling a soft yeah before pecking his cheek, holding his stare so full of ardent love that your heart feels like it might actually stop — it almost does when you feel the cold water from the shower head hit your back and you jump with a yelp.
satoru laughs, “my bad, heater wasn’t on.”
“bastard.”
“you certainly don’t think i’m one by how much you were screaming my name just n—”
you groan as his giggles only increase in volume, swooping you up easily before it falls silent and it’s only the sound of the shower filling your ears.
soon, the night is calm, something that isn’t the case usually with gojo, but you’ve casted such a deep spell on the strongest — the weakest when with you — that all he can do is watch your content face and humming voice with a silent love, fingers gliding through his white locks with shampoo and suds.
recently, satoru finds that he’s starting to smell more and more like you.
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i have chronic loving-gojo-satoru-like-an-clinically-insane-person disease
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mapiforpresident · 4 months
Note
Hi writer, prompt number 16 with Barcelona femeni(maybe platonic)
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I'll Try to Behave
fcb femení x teen!reader
warnings: alcohol
The team bus was loud before you even got on it, but as soon as you made your way up the stairs the whole coach cheered. It was a couple hours after Barcelona had won the Supercopa in which you scored three goals.
"I knew I brought you here for a reason" Lucy yelled over the music Patri and Pina were playing on a speaker.
"You didn't do anything, it was mostly Keira and Ona. If anything you were on my con list."
"I'm taking personal offence to that," Lucy said as she slid into the seat next to Ona towards the middle of the bus. Ona was a good friend of yours having played with her during her two years at Man United. You were also close with Lucy and Keira from being on the Lionesses together.
As Lucy and Ona got lost in their own little world of staring into each other's eyes lovingly, you fake gagged at them and continued to the back of the bus where your closest friends Patri, Pina, Mapi, and Cata were all yelling some song in Spanish that you couldn't understand a word of. Alexia and Ingrid were also sat in the back although based on their frowns, you had a feeling they thought the music was a little bit loud.
You dramatically flopped yourself on Alexia's lap who was sat directly in front of Pina and Patri's seat. "Yo Pina play that one I like next please and Patri can you please pass me one of those beers."
"No, absolutely not. Have you lost your mind." Alexia exclaimed while she was trying to push you off of her onto the seat next to her.
"Ale I'm seventeen, I've drank a beer before. Mapi even gave me two at the last team bonding night after you feel asleep like a grandma during The Lion King."
"You were not supposed to tell her that y/n." Mapi angrily whispered at you from across the aisle. "Great now she is going to murder me and never let me within ten feet of you"
"I swear to god Mapi. Why are you corrupting the baby. And you," Alexia said as she turned to you, "no drinking or dating or anything of the sort until you are thirty."
"You do know me and Pina had a beer chugging contest in the locker room before we got on the bus right."
"Claudia Pina." You had never seen anyone glare with as much exasperation at someone until now. Claudia coward under Ale's gaze and pretended to be staring out the window until Alexia was called up to the front of the bus by Jana asking her a question.
Patri decided to break the tension by shouting "truth or dare anyone," down the aisle of the bus to which you immediately agreed.
"Truth or dare, y/n," Patri asked you. You decided to go with truth for the first one knowing if you chose dare already, Patri would mostly likely give you one that would end with Alexia dragging you to the front of the bus and not letting you have anymore fun.
"Have you ever had a crush on anyone on this team." Patri really wanted to know the answer because you rarely talked about crushes or your love life.
You smirked at her. "Yes. Truth or dare Mapi"
"Wait hold on who is it" Patri asked as Pina asks "Do you still have a crush on them."
"That was not part of the question. Truth or dare Mapi." Mapi decided to go with a dare much to the displeasure of her girlfriend sitting next to her.
"I dare you to call your mom and tell her your pregnant"
"You know she is never going to believe me seeing as I'm with Ingrid and all," Mapi replied, but still pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number not one to back down from a dare.
As Mapi made the call, the rest of the team listening were trying their hardest to contain their fits of laughter, the alcohol already consumed not helping. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, watching as Mapi put on her best dramatic performance, her eyes widening in feigned panic as she spoke into the phone.
"Mom, I have something to tell you... I'm pregnant," Mapi announced dramatically, her voice laced with faux distress.
The reaction on the other end of the line was immediate and intense, Mapi's mother launching into a tirade of disbelief and concern that had the entire bus doubled over in laughter. Even Ingrid couldn't contain her amusement, shaking her head in mock disapproval as Mapi continued to play her part until eventually Mapi's mom heard all the laughing and figured out Mapi was pranking her. After she hung up she asked, "Claudia, truth or dare."
"Truth."
"What’s your biggest turn-on?" Mapi asked.
"Um probably eye contact," Claudia replied as she blushed a little. "Ok Cata, truth or dare."
Just as Cata was about to reply dare. Alexia called out to the bus that they had arrived back at the parking lot.
As you stepped off the bus, the night air enveloped you. The laughter and banter of your teammates echoed around you, their voices a comforting melody amidst the bustling streets of Barcelona.
Patri and Pina led the way to Patri's car, the promise of continuing the celebration at a club with friends sparking excitement in the air. You were about to join them, already planning how many shots you'd take, when suddenly, Alexia's firm grip halted you in your tracks.
"Absolutely not, hermanita," Alexia declared, her gaze unwavering. "I already asked Olga to set up the spare room for you. We can watch a movie before you go to bed if you're good on the car ride home."
You pouted playfully, but deep down, you were grateful for Alexia's protective instinct. With a resigned sigh, you agreed, knowing that Alexia always had your best interests at heart.
"Fine," you relented, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "As long as I get to pick the movie."
And so, the night continued, filled with laughter, music, and the warmth of friendship that surrounded you like a comforting embrace. As you fell asleep that night, nestled between Alexia and Olga, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the football family you had found at Barcelona, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other's backs.
---
Let me know if you guys have any tips or comments to improve my writing. Also my requests are open so feel to request anything and I will get it done asap. Thank you!!
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irndad · 3 months
Note
if you’re still doing flower prompts i’d love either Rainflower or Purple Lilac with spencer <3
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a/n: heyyyy im alive! writing from my trip, love you guys, don't know the wc! flower prompts
Rainflower - realizing that you/they love them/you back
It comes on all at once. 
Spencer- he’s never been particularly good at knowing when he’s feeling romantic. There wasn’t any experience with it. He knows that he’s hardly anyone’s dream guy- all awkward gangly limbs, too tall and too full of information that no one wanted to hear.
He’s carved out a little corner of the world that he can be seen in, that he can be loved in- but he’s never really been under the notion that someone could want him. Spencer knows that he’s lucky to have even this- to have people that ignite the prickly and irritating parts of himself and love him despite about this. And while he might fantasize, daydream about a life where he can lace his long fingers with those of someone who sees him only in a loving gaze of joy, Spencer knows that he’s not the kind of person that gets that. He’s being rational about it- most days, he’s able to relegate this desire to be filled with fantasy. 
Except- something has been up lately.
His best friend is probably the best person that he’s ever met in his life. She’s a consultant with the BAU, and it’s been nice to know her, in so many ways. She’s funny and kind in a way that never seems to have a victim. Spencer is not the kind of person that particularly values physical beauty, but she possesses it in such a large margin that it is difficult to ignore. He’s actually distracted by it sometimes, having to take extra mental attention to her words when all he is drawn to is the lovely curve of her Cupid’s bow, and the both light and heavy weight of her gaze in him. I like when you look at me, he thinks. She never makes him feel small. 
When they’d met, he was reluctant to her presence in most regards. Spencer knows that when he is focused, he can be a solitary creature, and that he’s an acquired taste. But she never seemed to need time to acclimate to him. From her first day, she listened to him when he spoke, and god, she squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him. 
She never had to try to like him. He was never a concession to her. 
This morning, she is late to work. He tries not to time it, but he enjoys the ritual of his mornings far more when he’s with her. He makes her tea and greets her first thing, and she asks about his evening the day prior. He tells her about whatever foreign film or Russian book he read the night before, a little too earnestly. She listens with her lovely doe eyes, sipping slowly as she transitions into her day. It doesn’t feel like patience with her- it feels like she actually cares what he has to say. Their routine is a warm radio crackle of familiarity, his favorite part of his day.
But she’s late today.
When she walks in, she’s a little frazzled and  so, so, adorable. She’s in a T-shirt that looks so familiar to him, and a pair of jeans that look lovely on her pretty legs. It’s a pleasure, looking at her. He wish he had more time to do it, wants to leisurely drink in the sight of her like he has all the time in the world, it never feels long enough to look.
Her hair’s frazzled and she’s just about 5 minutes late- Hotch hasn’t even come out of his office yet, but she’s clearly nervous.
“You’re okay,” he hears himself say, as she plunks down her bag on the desk, “I have your tea.” 
He doesn’t expect her to look up, but she does. She looks up at him and beams, and Spencer- his heart swells. She grabs the cup, dainty pretty fingers wrapped around the curve of it, and she beams her so-sweet smile at him, and god, his knees might buckle. Has it always been this way? 
He drinks in the sight of her, as she runs a hand through her hair in a worried, incredibly endearing gesture. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He wonders aimlessly, that she might have been meeting with a man this morning. It might be the explanation for the dishevelment. 
The burning bit in his chest this causes is one that lacks explanation. It hurts in a way that he cannot explain- she is not a realistic dream for him to have. It’s not like he’s never thought about the idea of the two of them together. It’s a fleeting thought, like the consideration if your life if you could fly. It’s not a dream that warrants real consideration. 
But when their fingers brush, her light touch on his hand, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she wanted him.
“Thank you, Spence,” she says, warm voice dripping with gratitude and something in his heart warms at the nickname, “You’re my hero.”
She takes a sip of it, and closes her eyes in a contemplative, restful moment. It’s unfairly adorable.
He’s never actually thought about it, until this moment. But her beauty transcends just being pure fact, a thing to note about his reality. It would be nice, Spencer thinks. It hits him like a tidal wave, images of her gorgeous laugh washing over him on a Sunday morning, the curve of her cheek, a world where he can hold her by the dip of her waist, where her ever-present kindness meant that she might, could, maybe, love him.
Love him back.
She has whipped cream on her finger. She took the lid of the drink off to have the whipped cream. 
He is so, so fucked. 
“Have I told you that I love you today, boy-genius?” 
Even though she’s kidding, and he stammers out a reply of acknowledgment, it is in this moment he knows, with the certainty of every empirical journal he has ever read. 
Spence Reid is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. 
It’s still nice to want, though. 
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ssahotchnerr · 10 months
Text
we’ll be okay - aaron hotchner x reader
after a bad argument and a long night of drinking, aaron gently takes care of you although you drunkly insist you don't need his help, making up along the way.
cw; reader is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol/drinking, reader almost vomits but doesn't, gn! but reader wears makeup, angst, hurt to comfort, established relationship, flashback to an argument, soft sweet aaron <3 wc; 1.8k
-
a very blurry aaron greeted you at the door, causing a swirl of emotions within you. well, it was either him, or the tequila.
“i think,” jj playfully said as she helped you into the apartment, while you tripped over your own two feet. as you tumbled, aaron reached out, catching you and grasping onto your waist to steady you. “this belongs to you.”
you barely heard aaron's thank you for your safe return home, or their exchange of goodbyes. the door closing was what caught your attention, the abrupt sound comparable to how your argument with aaron felt, in a way. leaving a dull, emptiness right in the middle of your chest.
luckily you had previously made plans and were already going out with the girls; giving the both of you a period of time to cool off. the drinks flowed freely and easily, especially as you recalled your tense disagreement with aaron to jj, emily and penelope.
you recognized the apology in aaron's eyes immediately. the guilt was prominent in his face, and you could feel yourself wanting to break. honestly, you forgave him the second you walked out earlier, but you held up the front, your intoxication taking reign over your emotions.
"how was your night?"
"fine." you mumbled in response, pulling out of his embrace and sitting on the carpet - more so, stumbling as you lowered yourself - to tackle the laces on your shoes.
aaron silently watched you, your fingers getting tangled and the strings knotting together. he crouched besides you, resting his elbows on his knees, "do you need my help?"
"i can take care of myself perfectly fine." you spat, more harsh than you intended, and even causing aaron to recoil. in addition, the sudden rush of air from your lungs prompted a hiccup.
aaron sighed but surrendered, straightening up. he waited quietly, while you took way too long to remove your shoes, messily tossing them aside once you managed to pull them off your feet. you got up, very shakily, and almost fell right back down. aaron reached out to catch you again but you ignored him, swiftly moving out of his reach and away.
but he followed you down the hall to your shared bedroom, gingerly keeping back; maintaining his space just in case.
"you're following me." hiccup.
"i'm making sure you don't topple over, honey." his tone was earnest, concerned.
you ignored him again, entering the room and beelining straight to your drawer to begin getting ready for bed.
aaron continued to keep some distance, leant up against the doorframe. after a moment, though, his voice entered your ears. "that's my drawer."
"i know." you hissed, but paused your ruffle through the tshirts, recognizing none as your own - no you didn't. you could only murmur in not-very-convincing defense, "i wanted one of yours."
with a small hum, he casually crossed his arms, while you struggled to pull your shirt over your head. your frustration was only heightening, and you whimpered in retaliation. tears pinched at your eyes, for more reasons than one.
"here, let me." aaron moved forward. at your side, his eyebrows were raised - asking for your permission to remove your clothes. once unenthusiastically received, he maneuvered your arms, untangling yourself from yourself and pulling off your shirt with ease. he reached into his drawer, grabbing your favorite old shirt of his, and then into yours. he slipped his shirt onto you gently, before guiding you to the end of the bed, sitting you down to remove your pants and slip on your sleep shorts.
"aaron?"
"yes?" he raised your shorts up your legs, not meeting your eyes.
"i don't like being mad at you."
at your words, especially at the inebriated sorrow in them, did his eyes lift. he let out a sigh, one of his hands rubbing your calve comfortably. "i don't like it either. but you have full reason to be, i'm really sorry for earlier."
earlier. you mind floated back to the afternoon, the second aaron walked through the door upon his arrival home. you had been eagerly waiting, anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. at work, you had been granted some paid-time off, and your first immediate thought was to get out of town with aaron. there was an endless list of places you could vacation to, and it's been a while since your last getaway together. and so, you only suggested, that aaron take the same week off as well.
in all honesty, you've missed him. lately, it's been case after case, late night after late night, and you haven't been seeing him more than you have been seeing him. you've been going to bed alone, waking up alone, the only thing accompanying you in the morning being a sticky note on aaron's pillow, wishing you a good day and that he loved you.
however, your own excitement was unmatched. aaron had been stuck in an unexpected meeting all day, with very unpleasant bureaucrats, which had ultimately prevented him from getting things done. his already extensive workload had lengthened, and so did the stress on his shoulders. any other day, he would be enamored with the idea of taking a break from reality, escaping it with you.
speaking solely from frustration, aaron had shot down your suggestion, immediately, saying he had 'other, more important things to do.'
the two of you had gone at it, and in anger you had said something along the lines of aaron putting his job above you, that he didn't care, that he should try harder - the specifics were so hazy now, your intoxication to blame.
aaron had argued back you weren't being understanding, that he 'just can't take time off, you already know that'. and soon enough, you had left in a huff, tears and with a slammed door behind you.
even throughout the night, you didn't bat an eye at the few texts aaron had sent, and declined his one call when it illuminated on your screen. rather, you downed drinks in silent response.
"c'mere." he sat up on his knees to pull you into his arms, your head resting against his chest. his heart beat in time with your now pounding headache, a wave of nausea overwhelming you at the stillness of his embrace.
aaron noticed your small waver, and pulled back cautiously. with a hand moving to the small of your back, he was at the ready if anything in your stomach were to make an appearance, "sweetheart?"
"'m fine." you waved it off, taking a deep breath and resisting the gag deep in your throat. "jus' fine."
"okay..." his brown eyes had that gentle look in them, familiar even though you couldn't see him too properly. "here, let's get you cleaned up a bit, and into bed. sound good?"
with you sat on the toilet, aaron grabbed onto your package of makeup wipes, gently cleaning any remnants off your face. it wasn't your full skincare routine, but he figured it was better than nothing, and would prevent your pillowcase from staining.
"we can talk more in the morning." when you're sober. aaron finished wiping your left cheek, balling the wipe and tossing it into the trash. "but i was thinking, and i may have a compromise."
your nose scrunched slightly in confusion.
he took a moment to speak, nervously shifting through the objects on the bathroom counter, buying minor time as he was unsure of how you would receive his accommodation. "as much as i want to, and believe me, i do," his sweet eyes found yours, "but it may be hard for me to take a week off. i'll try and work it out, i promise, but if not, i can most likely take a thursday and a friday. then we'll also have the following weekend, just you and me?"
while the room was vaguely spinning, a sense of balance filled the air; alleviating any lingering tension or anger your drunken state tried to hold onto you. he dampened a cool washcloth, quickly cleansing your face, and easing your pulsating head. "i know it's not what you-"
"no, it's perfect." you shook your head, and aaron pulled the washcloth away a few inches, due to the unexpected movement. "i'll take as much as i can get. really. i just, miss you. a lot." your voice lowered dismally, your waterline pooling with tears.
his eyes saddened, reaching up to wipe a tear that had trickled down. "i know, i'm sorry." another sigh escaped him, reapplying the cloth to your face, "we haven't had much time for ourselves lately, at all. so, thank you."
"thank you...?"
"for suggesting this. for understanding. for putting up with me." he kissed your forehead, a solemness to his face. "what i said earlier, i didn't mean it."
"i know you didn't."
he shook his head, guilt lining his face. his next comment left him in a breath, "still not an excuse."
"i'm sorry too." you grabbed his chin, keeping his face still to press your lips to his. his eyes fluttered shut, a soft exhale escaping him as he relaxed in your touch. "we're us, we'll be okay."
he nodded, kissing you once more before getting to his feet, "again, we can discuss it all in the morning. i just didn't want you going to sleep upset, and i feel awful knowing you drank more recklessly tonight as result of me."
"no, not 'cause of you, 'cause our argument. that's two very different things y'know." your words slurred together as you squinted, the bathroom seemingly brighter now than it was a minute ago.
another kiss was pressed to your lips. "in the morning, sweetheart." he stood up to grab your toothbrush, preparing it for you as you definitely could not on your own, and supported your waist as you brushed your teeth. again, it was rushed and lazy, you probably barely scratched the surface, but better than not doing so at all.
although you were half out of it, and wicked hangover was in your future, you felt better than you had all evening. fighting with aaron wasn't common, and so it always felt oddly foreign. it just, wasn't like the two of you. you hated any tension that made itself known. but likewise, that also meant the two of you could solve anything, together.
aaron filled a glass of water, and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen to put at your bedside for for the morning. "bed?"
you nodded, practically asleep on your toes and more than ready to be curled into his side. "bed."
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