#i'm not even half fuckin done
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yesterday i watched intruder 1989 btw funniest shit i ever seen
#oh nay#i've picked back up on my slasher watching recently a few weeks ago i watched#the final girls 2015 (cried the WHOLE time then immediately got my period) the burning 1981 (i love a friday ripoff) and stage fright#aka deliria 1987 (italian + sososo pretty)#INTRUDER THO i was so immediately charmed by the setting (stuck in a little grocery store overnight.... i love when it's cramped up#in a little space esp when it's familiar and comforting)#it felt like. it was ok but so clearly could have been better it's painful. but i enjoyed it a lot#the camerawork and framing and stuff was SOOO creative and fun#and the kills were fun fun fun fun the sfx were slay i think there might have been like 3 different fake heads that got cut in half#and the likes#i ALWAYS love that so much#was a bit slow but it was fine it had a bit of a. my bloody valentine vibe to it. the bloodbags were cute i cared them enough#the killer felt a bit..... eh......... but it was done well enough i did Not suspect a thing but also i don't even try to figure stuff out#so who knows#i have DECIDED that evil dead & child's play WILL be watched closer to halloween this year so there's that but i've gathered a huge fuckin#list of Other Stuff until then#man I WATCHED TOURIST TRAP 1979 IT WAS SO INSANE???????? IT WAS SO FUCKED UP SILLY I'M OBSESSED W IT?????#how can something feel SO MUCH like texas chainsaw but actually be SO DIFFERENT SO MUCH THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION IT WAS!!!!!!!!
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I have to make another almond snowflake cake and marinara sauce and set the table and clear the bar and set it with serving dishes but I'm so unmotivated today I want to nap with the cats help
#I haven't moved in like.... half an hour. I'm so sleepy. marinara isn't even that hard lmao I'm just feeling lazy af#this week has been so crazy man I'm so tired and I'm honestly just like....#ready for christmas to be over. like it took me a LONG time to get to a point where I enjoyed Christmas again#and I'm not like idk HATING Christmas this year?#I'm just TIRED. as FUCK. and when it's all OVER and done I'll be relieved#the entire ~holiday season~ was just fuckin insane personally this year and I'm so tired#and I know now it'll be omg what do you want to do for your birthday!?!?!#and it's like man I want everyone to be very quiet so I can sleep all day#erin explains it all
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What is it like to not be tired all the time???
#tmi#god i can't wait for my next psych appointment i need my med dosage increased#so fucking tired bc i've had to cut my pills in half so i wouldn't run out bc the bottle is for a month but there's 6 weeks between-#-appointments!!!! why do i keep saying 6 weeks is fine. she can't order a refill for more than a month bc it's a fuckin restricted substance#& days when i just don't take my meds at all i WILL sleep the entire fuckin day. my current half dose just barely keeps me awake but-#-doesn't really give me the energy to do much#a couple days I've taken a full pill bc I knew I needed the energy to Get Shit Done & it was great i actually felt like a human being#if i'm gonna keep cutting this shit in half i'm gonna need a higher dose so I can do shit even on half a pill#fucking hell i hate my brain. stupid thing can't fuckin regulate itself. can't motitvate itself.
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unfortunately i've gotten to the point where deadlines are simply suggestions. due wednesday? ah what's the harm in doing it thursday. or next week. or never. i don't like being at this point. please help
#sitting with my long overdue bio homework in front of me#it just doesn't make any sense man#what do you MEAN i'm meant to know whether lactose is present when the regulator gene produces the repressor molecule#what does that MEAN#i don't even think that's what the question is asking#I don't even understand the question#it's fuckin#where to metabolic pathways and phenylalanine come into this#i'm going to start crying this is incoherent#and bio is one of my best subjects !!#i'm even worse at everything else#this was due ages ago. how long? i don't know. i haven't attended in a while#and i've still got my english folio to write that was due over a month ago#and my sociology paper (worth 30% of my grade) is meant to be half done by now but i've not even picked a topic#fucking hell#it's past midnight and i have given up#the world is ending who gives a fuck abt bio anyway#phenylketonuria has no impact on my life anyway#flipped the page and in the hope of understanding the second half and nope it's enzyme kinetics#can some kind bio nerd help me please
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not to further out myself as a cosplayer but anyway sometimes i do wonder if there's a higher power because i'd been mentally debating buying this absolutely beautiful cosplay for ebenholz' eine variation skin on taobao for WEEKS like it was just in my cart while i waffled about it and yesterday a friend texted me with absolutely no context to ask if i wanted to get anything from taobao because they wanted to get a better deal on shipping so yknow. im just taking that as some kind of Sign
#asto's tales#its so. its so beautiful. like i've been calling it the disgraced german nobleman fit to my non arknights friends#partly because that's just. somewhat accurate and partly because it's really got that aristocrat look#one friend was like omg goth vampire fit which. yeah yknow that's the vibe#really dont think that friend was expecting me to send like several links of cosplay materials when they asked me but#to be fair i did ask them like how much stuff are we talking JKSHDKFJHS#and then the contact lenses i wanted to get couldnt be delivered to my region for 'legal or regulatory reasons' which. what does that MEAN#had to get like... normal people everyday use contacts instead of cosplay contacts which#ok im lowkey a little mad about because the colour doesnt show up as well compared to cosplay contacts and eben's eyes are like#SUPER light purple so yknow. that's troubling#but oh well. nothing to be done. if i'm really bothered about it i guess i can tryna get my own#also the outfits on presale cuz the seller ran out of stock so god knows when it's even gonna arrive JKSDKJFHKSD#and on top of that i didnt get his horns cuz if you tryna buy them on taobao there's only one person who sells them and theyre like#half the price of the whole fuckin cosplay fit. like are you jokin my ass#so now the plan is just to model them in blender and 3d print them in either my school library or my friends school shop#easier said than done cuz (looks at ebenholz' character art) what the fuck is going on
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it's so hard to have fun hobbies when 87.36% of your energy is used up by work
#i'm so excited about my wip in theory#and i KNOW that i'll have fun working on them and that i'll be so happy and proud once theyre done#but like. i'm tiiiiiireddddddd#i feel like i barely have any free time in my scheule and any free time i do have i dont want to do anything in#like. pysically and emotionally i'm so fucking tired i just want to scream at everything to just stop#like. i've been staying late at work just about every day for the past two weeks because they keep fucking up the schedule#and they havent been fixing it so i've basically been volunteering to stay late to help out my coworkers#but today i was like. no. its not worth it theyll still be able to manage without me#EXCEPT THAT THE FUCKING GUY WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE OVER FOR ME SO I COULD LEAVE CAME IN AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE#AND IM STILL HERE BECAUSE THERES LITERALLY NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE TO FILL THE NECESSARY POSITIONS FOR THE NEXT HOUR#i am seething im so fuckin pissed#and like. i dont think he's even noticed that i was supposed to have gone home over an hour ago. like he hasnt said a word about it#like he didnt ask me to stay late idk if he just assumed i would or if hes just that bad at paying attention to the schedule but im so mad#i feel so taken advantage of its not even funny#life tag
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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮; 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤
𝟕𝐤 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: stoner!tattooed!pierced!geto, shotgunning, pussy/cock-drunk, squirting, heavy praise/encouragement, struggle to ride suguru’s fat cock, friends with benefits, squirting, kissing, groping, begging, some cock sucking, daddy/mama/princess, suguru is lovesick, size kink
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @unknownspecies; stoner geto !!!
fey: I needs this! I needs it!
Admiring you Suguru’s kissable lips stretch into a lazy, cocky smirk. Tracing the inky dark lines of his large chest piece. “Wanna suck your handsome, thick, veiny cock, I’m soakin’ lookin’ at you handsome.” Lovingly gazing into his warm, hungry dark chocolate eyes. The white of his eyes is pink.
Feeling up his hard abs, tracing each line, biting your lip when they deepen. “I’ve been watching your heavy cock sway when you walk. And your ass,” groaning, Suguru quickly kisses you, blowing thick smoke into your mouth.
Slipping his tongue into your mouth, you're following his lead without a thought. Whining into the kiss, enticing a deep groan. Leaning back, staring down at you, “Beautiful mama ya want me that badly?” Blowing out the bitter smoke.
Wondering how the simple act of pushing his long hair out out of his beautiful face with his fingers could be so sexy? Suguru’s thick arm subtly flexes. The muscles of his biceps ripples beneath his pale inked-up skin. You're figuring out an answer.
Everything about him is too damn beautiful. And you’re down too badly.
Your slick trickles down your thighs. “Need ya Daddy, fuck it’s not fair how handsome you are, how big your cock is even when soft. Or how bubbly your thick ass is. You’re too much Daddy, so beautiful n’ sweet with me.” Kneeling in front of him, grabbing half hard thick cock. Sucking his fat head, swirling your tongue around him, feeling the thick, soft ridge of him.
"What isn't fair is how hot your lips 'round my cock looks." Bobbing your head, taking him in smooth deep, quick strokes. Smearing the spit along the rest of him with a swirl of your fist. "Fuck that’s it." When he curses like that your cunt clenches.
Smoke escapes as his jaw drops. His eyes roll back, thighs tremble, abs clenching. "Nnnn expecting me not to cum quickly with you suckin' on me like that isn't fair." You fondle his large balls, warm in your pam.
He confesses, "Been thinkin' 'bout ya too, woke up from a wet dream I had 'bout ya." Sliding him out with a pop, kissing along a puffy vein, feeling it pulsing beneath your lips. "I had your sexy ass riding my fat cock." Licking his cock, taking him deep into your mouth with a smooth stroke. Gagging on him, your cunt clenching around nothing.
He groans, "Please mama lemme feel your sloppy pretty cunt, been dreamin' of your soft lips wrappin' 'round me. N' how hot and wet you get for me." Standing up, he moves further back onto his bed, snuffing out his blunt. You slip off his baggy shirt you've stolen from his closet, throwing it close to his laundry bin.
Climbing onto the bed, straddling his hips, "Please? You wanna beg a little more for me?" Straddling his hips, slipping your fingers into your dripping, hot cunt. Soaking your fingers, holding them close to his lips.
"If I beg then you're doing all the work, I'm not helpin'." Licking them clean, his tongue's bar dragging along your fingers. Grabbing his heavy cock, holding it upright swiping him between your lips. Lining him up, then waiting.
Suguru groans, "Always tastin' so fuckin' good." Grabbing your hip, licking his thumb, stroking your clit. "I'll have to cum on your beautiful tits so I can eat your sloppy overstimulated cunt after you're done using my cock like a dildo." Rubbing your puffy clit faster, clenching his tip. Your slick dripping down him and your hand.
Whining, "That's not begging! I wanna hear you beggin' for me daddy, I always am for you!" He glides his large hand up your side, cupping your breast, and rubbing your soft nipple. His cocky smirk makes you hornier.
Thoughts of sitting on his face and ignoring his beautiful cock crosses your mind.
Suguru sounds so needy pleading, "Use my fat cock to take care of your beautiful dripping wet, hot tight cunt. Wanna see her take me, feel her stretch n' clench, hear you moan while my beautiful cunt squelches from how wet you are." Pushing your hips down, sinking just the tip in, clenching him tightly. He's too big for you to take anymore.
Gliding his thick cockhead, stretching your tight cunt, whining. Suguru's eyes widen, and he whines, "Princess nnnn please fuck let me feel ya more, you're so tight, hot! Need ya to ride me, wanna feel ya cum, see your sexy face when you do." Keeping him upright wishing he would slam you down on his cock. Whining in desperation, rocking your hips struggling to take more of his fat cock into your tight cunt.
"Please mama ya can take more than just the tip," moaning, partly smirking at you, "or am I too big to fit?" Digging your nails in close to his sensitive v-line, he groans his hips jerking up reflexively. Crying, pausing, the pleasure from him stroking your clit easing the aching of your cunt taking him so suddenly.
"You're ok princess. Daddy got ya, gonna make sure ya feel good while you're struggling to take me" Steadily playing with your clit, keeping his hips still. "Take ya time princess we got all day." Rocking your hips slowly, barely taking half of Suguru.
Letting Suguru go, placing your hand on his hard abs. "I love how full you make me." He slides his hand up from your breasts, wrapping his hand lightly around your neck. Pulling you down as he rises up, stopping shy of your lips.
"I fuckin' love hearing you whine, feelin' you clench," softly kissing you, "seein' ya tremblin'. You're so beautiful mama, nnng wanna be your's." Another veiny inch, clenching his waist. Getting off on the softness of his skin contrasting how hard rock hard cock.
Suguru passionately kisses you, slipping his tongue past your lips. Playing with his tongue bar before following his tongue. Rocking your hips faster, getting used to how wide he stretches you. Swirling your hips, he whines, rubbing your clit faster.
Breaking away groaning, "Love dreamin' about you, and wakin' up to you, making ya breakfast hearing your praise on how good it tastes." Gliding his hand down your chest, along your waist and over your hip.
Cupping your ass, you lay on top of him, bouncing on as much of his cock as you can fit into your sloppy wet cunt. He can't stop. "Fuck I miss ya when you sleep in your own room. You should stay with me more, wanna fall asleep and wake up holdin' ya close." Covering Suguru's face in gentle, loving kissing, steadily rocking your hips.
"I'll stay whenever you like, how long you like eatin' up your food, letting you be small or big spoon, smokin' up your bud." Feeling up his chest, your hands wandering from the sculpted curve of his sides to his thick pecs, and hard pecs.
Kissing his lips gentle, he deepens the kiss, groaning. Slipping his tongue past your lips, it’s needy, rough and passionate. You don’t pull away till your lungs are aching for air.
Steadying his breathing, suggesting, "We can have our first date tonight, I’ll cook us dinner, roll us a fat blunt, cover you in kisses and cuddling close. You can pick the movies." Leaning back for him to watch his veiny, thick cock vanishing into your tight, dripping cunt. “I’ll make whatever you want, gonna take care of you make ya feel loved and safe.”
Gliding more of him in, he grabs the headboard, his knuckles turning white. Your cunt fluttering from his deep groan. Your pride swelling from getting Suguru drunk off your cunt. "Need to cum ‘n ya so badly! Wanna fuck ya senseless but seeing ya struggle with my cock is so fuckin' hot.” His abs momentarily flexing.
Getting off on how big and muscular he is, trembling and whining underneath you from your cunt. Spasming around him, you’re so close to cumming. Stroking your clit faster, your pace staggering before steadying out.
He moans, “Nng you've almost gotten all of me, keep going, you can take me princess.” You’re gushing in his cock, thick cum trickling down his cock. Rocking your hips back, taking him fully, he croons, “That’s it, ‘m so proud of ya sweetheart.” Sitting on his cock, your slick trickling down his balls, some splashing onto his abs.
“My cock feels good!" You can’t think straight, lost in the intense peak. Unable to move your legs, he’s throbbing inside you, thick veins pulsing. His head kissing your cervix, he’s so deep. And despite cumming you want more.
Feebly lifting your hips, Suguru helps you, firmly grabbing your waist. Lifting you till his fat cockhead is the only part of him split your sloppy, sensitive cunt open. "Is this your cock? Am I your’s?”
Oreo’s m.list
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#getou suguru smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x y/n#jjk geto
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The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader
Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.
Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting
Word Count: 4350
A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.
"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.
"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.
"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.
"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"
"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.
"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."
"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.
"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."
"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.
"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.
"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.
"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.
"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.
"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.
Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"
"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"
"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.
John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.
"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.
"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.
"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"
"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.
"I'm looking to donate to the children."
"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.
He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.
"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.
"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.
"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."
"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.
"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.
"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.
"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.
"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.
"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."
"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.
"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.
"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.
"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.
Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.
(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.
"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.
"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.
"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.
John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.
"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.
To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.
"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.
"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.
John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.
Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."
Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.
"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.
"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.
"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.
Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.
"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.
"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.
"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.
John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.
"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.
"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.
"The school?" Arthur questioned.
"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.
"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.
"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.
"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.
John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."
"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.
John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.
"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.
"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.
"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.
"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).
"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.
"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.
"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.
"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.
"Why not?"
"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.
Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.
Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.
"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."
"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."
"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"
"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.
"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."
"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.
"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."
Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.
(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.
(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.
Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.
"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.
"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.
"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.
"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.
"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.
She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.
"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.
"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.
"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.
"I'm rather terrible at dancing."
"You've not seen me dance then."
(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.
"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.
(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.
They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.
(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.
"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.
"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.
"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"
"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.
"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.
(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.
"Figured we could get to know each other better."
"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.
The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.
As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.
-One Year Later-
Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.
"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.
Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.
Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).
Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.
"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."
Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.
No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.
Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,498
Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream
A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five Part Six
The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.
“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”
A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.
“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”
Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”
A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.
“Do I make you that nervous?”
“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.
Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.
“Ya’ done lying?”
“Let me go.”
“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”
A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.
“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”
“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”
“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”
“Watch it.”
“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.
“You think I'd actually want you back?”
His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.
“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”
You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.
He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”
“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”
“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.
“Outside of the bar.”
“Is he around?”
“N-No.”
His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?
“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.
The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.
Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!
“You think I’d actually want you back?”
His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!
You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.
If Toji didn't want you, who would?
A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.
“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”
“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”
You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.
“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”
More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.
Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.
Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”
Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.
Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.
His Y/N.
Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.
“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”
Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.
“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”
“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”
Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.
“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.
He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.
You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.
“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”
“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”
You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.
With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”
“It's not stupid, please tell me.”
You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.
“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”
“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”
“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”
Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.
It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.
”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.
”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”
”Confused because you’re drunk?”
”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”
”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”
You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”
”Y/N—“
”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”
Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.
Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.
”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.
”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”
You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.
”You are such a brat.”
Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.
Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.
You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.
You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.
“Give me a hand?”
“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”
“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”
“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”
“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”
You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.
“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”
“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”
Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.
A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.
The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.
“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”
You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.
He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.
“Satoru~”
“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”
Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet
“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”
He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.
“Toru, take me to our room.”
Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)
@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovely212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator
#escort!gojo#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk reader smut#jjk y/n#jjk#jjk reader insert#jjk gojo smut#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu satoru#reader x satoru#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#jjk satoru#satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x you#satorugojo#reader jjk
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Virgin Eddie prompt: giving him head and sucking his balls for the first time, no one has ever done it before and he’s just shocked pikachu meme and nearly blows his fuckin load immediately
no thoughts head empty just this prompt
Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), blowjobs, ball worship, ball sucking, deepthroating, gagging, gentle bullying, goth!reader, tongue piercings.
Word Count | 1.1k
A/N | i am so sorry this has sat half completed in my drafts for weeks because i'm trash!! i hope you enjoy it and it was worth the wait <3!!!
If somebody were to ask Eddie Munson how he spent his usually mundane Tuesday evening, the last thing they'd expect him to reply with would be "Getting blown by the sexy goth chick from the local corner store in the back of my van." And yet, that's exactly what was happening.
You had thought he was cute for a while, ever since you'd first set eyes on him when he moseyed into the store one day with a gaggle of fifteen year olds looking to buy a pack of Marlboros.
"And you're sure that you're not gonna leave this store in two seconds and sell each of these for a dollar to these kids?" You'd asked, dangling the pack between your fingers, clicking your tongue and tsking at him.
Eddie had balked, stuttering over his words as he watched the glint of the silver ball peeking as you rolled your tongue in your mouth, cock kicking up at the sight of you smirking at him, "N-no, ma'am. They're - they're good kids."
He'd walked off flustered, and you'd given yourself a pat on the back well done. What you didn't expect was to see him at least every second day for the following two weeks, until you finally plucked up the nerve to corner him after closing and force your way into his van with him.
"Sh-shit," Eddie's whining, hands grasping for purchase in the material of his threadbare blanket that was laid out underneath you both as you suck him down into your throat wetly.
You weren't cocky by any means, but you knew how to suck a dick.
Your throat widens to allow Eddie's cock to breach, a slight gag trying to make its way up but you shove it down, adamant you're going to blow this silly boy's mind and show him just how good you could be. His cock is big, you'll give him that - thick and girthy, unlike any other you'd seen before, never mind willingly put in your mouth.
The cool silver of your tongue bar glides along the underside of Eddie's cock as you bob your head up and down, catching and dragging on a vein as you suck and lap at the flushed, salty skin, relishing in the choked off, wet sobs you're eliciting from Eddie's pretty mouth in return. Your lips meet your fist wrapped around his base, jerking him into your mouth until a dribble of precum slides down your throat.
"Jesus Christ, oh god," Eddie's crying out, he can hardly look at you other than to flit a glance down every so often then throw his head back again, unable to watch as your eyes water and your mouth widens around him. You chance at taking your other hand away from his thigh, ghosting your fingertips along his balls, and he bucks up into your throat, gagging you in the process.
Your throat closes, tightening around the head of Eddie's cock and he does it again, fucking his hips up into your face until you're unravelling your hand from the base and shoving his hips down, his cock sliding out of your mouth as you gasp for air, "Naughty boy," you tsk, meeting his apologetic gaze.
Eddie is clearly inexperienced, you question if he'd ever even had his dick touched by anything other than his own right hand or a pillow, and suddenly the urge to want this to truly blow his mind overcomes your entire body.
You slide down further, until your mouth is level with his balls, hands heavy on his inner thighs and spreading them a bit wider. You don't think you'd ever called genitals pretty before, but the soft hang of Eddie's balls, his thick, pink cock slapping heavily on his belly, genuinely is a pretty sight. You can't help yourself, tongue snaking out to lick at the seam of his sack.
“Oh fuck, oh shit,” Eddie’s hips buck up off of the floor, hand running through your hair as you nuzzle into his heavy sack, tongue licking a flat stripe before you’re sucking one into your mouth, the cool ball of your piercing sending him reeling, moans echoing into the room, “your mouth is fu-fucking sinful, goddamn.”
You hum with your mouth full of his balls, hand wrapping around his cock and jacking it hard and fast - twisting at the head, swiping a thumb over the slit as you suck and spit on his sack. Eddie's legs begin to shake, a telltale sign this is about to come to an end, and you find yourself grinning against him.
Eddie hazards a glance down at you, his flushed, leaking cock sliding in and out of the grasp of your wet fist, your plump lips swollen around his balls, your tits jiggling and spilling out of the neck of your shirt and he's gone;
"I'm gonna - shitshitshit," Eddie fists a hand in your hair and you moan, vibration bouncing off of his skin, balls drawing up in your mouth as he comes, hot and hard all down your fist, some of it shooting so far it lands in thick ropes on his shirt.
You jack him through it slowly, his spent ballsack slipping from your mouth until he's jerking away from you because of overstimulation, whining and pushing you by the shoulder gently.
You gaze up at him from between his thighs, aware that your eyeliner is probably smeared down your face from the tears, red lipstick staining your chin, drool pooling down your neck and between the crevice of your tits, "Was that okay, pretty boy?"
Eddie splutters, unable to look at you properly for fear his cock would kick up in interest yet again, giving away just how ridiculously inexperienced he was, "Yeah, yeah. It was good - great, even!" He's hasty with his words, trying not to upset you with a lackluster reply.
"Not too bad for your first time, right?" You smirk as you pull yourself up onto your knees, patting his bare thigh. Eddie's eyes widen, finally looking at you properly and he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up - you were right, had hit the nail on the head with your assumption, "It's okay, Eddie. I like the inexperience, means I can show you a few things. Same time tomorrow?"
Eddie's cheeks flush dark when you wink at him, making to stand up and unlock the door of the van. You jump out gracefully, slamming the door shut loud enough that it echoes into the cool night air.
And when Eddie appears at dead on closing time the next night, you can't say you're surprised to see him, a cheeky smile gracing your features as you lock eyes.
#eddie munson fic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#my fanfic#mine#smut
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obsessed
I know we agree that Eddie would be obsessed with his girl. But I also think, even more than that - he would want his girl to be obsessed with him.
Like, after the initial 'wah I dunno what I'm doing' part of becoming a boyfriend for the first time, of course, because I do think Eddie would be both awkwardly though endearingly inexperienced, and also kinda scared of his feelings finally being reciprocated because now there's actual risk involved. But once he's past that, I think as much as he is just all about you - wanting to be around you, hold you, kiss you, fuck you, sleep with you, just exist beside you - he is even more excited at the prospect that you're all about him.
He wants to catch you looking at him and see it written all over your face, your expression all gooey and gross and totally fucking gone. It wouldn't make sense to him, because, yeah, you do that when he's screaming his lungs out on stage at The Hideout, fingers nearly cramping with his hard he's playing and, before the performance is even half-done, he knows they fuckin' killed it. That makes sense to him But you also look at him like that even when he's doing asinine shit, like picking off his nail polish and balancing the flakes in a pile on his hairy knee, or perching hunchbacked on a chair, muttering to himself as he drafts the next dungeon crawl for Hellfire. You see him at his best and his worst and his weirdest, and you seem to only wanna be closer to him. It's the same he feels about you, but at least with you it makes sense, 'cause you're you. It beats the shit outta Eddie why you're obsessed with him, but he's seen it enough to accept it now.
He starts feeling all warm inside his chest whenever he remembers just how obsessed you are with him. And so then he starts to do whatever it takes to encourage you in that.
Some guys think their girl's too needy? Hell fuckin' nah. Not Ed. You keep pulling him back in for snuggles and kisses and pouty "I'll miss you baby"s when he's been trying to leave the last twenty minutes, and he's just burying his grin in your hair, lapping up every word like a greedy bastard. He doesn't give a shit that he's gonna be late and get an earful from Gareth when you're filling up his chest with ooey gooey warmth like this. Space? Never heard of her. It could be hot as the devil's asscrack in July and he'd let you paste yourself to him. Damn the sweaty skin, the baby hairs tickling his chin, the elbow in his rib. Climb inside his favorite hoodie with him; stretch it all the way out. Make him a permanent one-handed driver by stealing his palm so you can play with his rings and just touch his skin, as if it alleviates some kind of ache in you.
And you best believe that man is determined to delight you. It doesn't matter how much or little experience he's had with other people before; Eddie wants to know how to make you fall apart. He studies your body - spends days between your legs with his mouth and his fingers and his cock, learning exactly what to touch and with what pressure and rhythm. Learning when to ease up and when to press on. Learning what your sounds and your faces and your motions mean. Learning all of you until he can have you coming on his cock in less than five minutes, and on his tongue in less than three, if you happen to be pressed for time. And if you're not pressed for time... Well. Eddie makes sure that each time he gets to really savor you, your obsession with him just grows that much deeper. Once you're coherent and no longer cock-drunk, at least.
Eddie isn't just determined to delight you in the bedroom, either. He'd keep it going all the time, his efforts to ensure you're totally gone on him - buy you cheap things like fake tattoos and ring pops from the 25-cent machines, steal you flowers cut from the yards he passes when he's selling in Loch Nora, leave you little love-heart doodles in your locker and loiter around the corner, waiting for you to find them, just so he can grab you up from behind and gasp against your neck, "Are those from a secret admirer?! Are you cheating on me?!" And as you squeal and giggle and deny it profusely, that warmth returns.
Because Eddie doesn't ever need to wonder about you. For the first time in his life, someone has finally looked at him and said, "Yeah, that freak right there. I'm obsessed with him." And there's no way in hell he's gonna take that for granted.
#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson#blueywrites
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y'all know the ghostface mori from dbd?
that's how cbf!simon takes a picture with you during sex on your own phone to send to your ex.
this wasn't supposed to be smut, but it is now. so. oh well.
cbf!simon had met him before, obviously, and didn't even acknowledge his existence the first time— only spoke to you, with his large body shielding you from your then-boyfriend. he was a worthless slip of a boy who walked around unawares with you in his arm, sat with his back toward any entrance and he even let you walk on the edge of the sidewalk.
unacceptable.
the only reason his face hadn't ended up on a milk carton was because when simon questioned your relationship with him, you swore that it had only been dates, and pecks on the cheek.
regardless, when he watched you get ready for a movie date night, simon decided that enough was enough.
he started coming around more, goading your boyfriend while still not addressing him.
"love, you got one of my old shirts around here somewhere?"
"pet, you remember that one lake i took you to and camped overnight? heard it's drying up, that true?"
it's comical if it wasn't just so fucking pathetic how your boyfriend just took it, like some sort of cuck. if it had been simon, he would've ended up on the stretcher in the very first meeting.
and then it clicked.
it should be him, not this meritless imbecile.
so, while he was waiting for you in the living room to take you out for dinner, the very first sentence that your boyfriend hears from simon is, 'ya wanna know why she's not sleepin' with ya? cuz i'm the one fuckin' her every night. sorry, pal.'
simon had been sitting on the couch, legs manspread, and his arms stretched out, lax, on the backrest when he said it.
the very definition of unbothered.
when you come out in your pretty burgundy button up, and tight black pants, simon was very glad that he ran that fool out the door— he doesn't deserve you.
you get a 'this is over' text in minutes, and simon tells you that he wasn't good enough for you anyway. just get comfortable, wear his shirt you love to sleep in, and put on a movie— he'll be back with a couple bottles of wine.
2 and a half bottles of wine later, and you find yourself under him, his tongue entangled with yours as he bullies his fat cock into you for the first time ever.
simon coos into your ear when you hiss at the pain of the stretch, whispering that you can take him because you and him are meant to be.
"it won't hurt the next time we do this, pet."
your mind is warm and fuzzy with the alcohol that courses through your system, and it gives you courage to ask, "promise?"
simon finally bottoms out, and your mind goes blank at the feel of him hitting a spot inside of you that no one's ever reached before.
"i promise. for you, anything. i swear it." he's babbling, but he doesn't care because you're finally his, and if he has any say in the matter, you'll only be his.
your pretty pussy will only ever know him.
he starts to move, long, slow thrusts, and the burning sting starts to melt into a toe-curling pleasure at the edges, and the liquid fire that started in your belly starts to spread through your veins— a scalding ecstasy burning you from the inside out.
you try to wrap your legs around his waist, but he's too wide, built like a tank— so you give up, and plant your feet down, opting to meet his hips with yours. the flared head of his cock rubs so deliciously against this one spot inside of you, and your vision begins to spot as your belly tightens, muscles tensing for what's to come—
when simon pulls out roughly, and a sob escapes your lips. you were so close, god, why is he being so mean to you?
simon lets out a pained grunt as his cock twitches and slaps the side of your thigh with his heavy hand, chuckling.
"i know you were, love, i swear i'm not trying to be mean, i almost just came in this sweet cunt. i'm not done with you just yet. turn around, on your knees."
your reaction is visceral, and you flip over so fast your stomach churns. you lower your head until the carpet is digging into the soft skin of your cheek, and sensually arch your back.
presenting yourself to him, your glistening, swollen pussy begging to be filled.
"'s tha' wha' ya want, love? hm? f'me to stuff ya full of my cock? beg me, then. beg me like the pretty slut you are— to fuck ya the only way i can. only me and no one else."
the words spill from your lips like water does a faucet, slurred with pleasure. "please fuck me, si, fill me with your cum, i promise i'm a slut jus' f'you, only you can fuck me the way i need, i swear i'm yours, only yours."
something in simon snaps when he hears you profess how you're only his. he sinks to the hilt in one smooth stroke, bends his left leg to deepen his angle and fucks.
you don't even try to stop the sounds that come from your mouth, too far gone, cock drunk. every thrust of his hips punches the air from your lungs, and your arousal is renewed with fervor, this time painfully so. it hurts, how bad you want to come, you just need a little more, a little—
"y'wanna come around me? lemme feel you then." simon's hand curls around your waist and his fingers start to draw cruel, tight, precise circles on your neglected clit, and your climax slams into you so hard, you might just start crying from the relief.
"thaaaa's it, pet. cream all over me with tha' tight cunt o'yours."
simon doesn't stop rubbing your bud, nor does he stop thrusting into you, dragging out your pleasure, almost to the point of oversensitivity.
"'m not pullin' out, y'hear? you're mine now. and i'm gonna cum inside what's mine, clear?"
you dumbly nod, bobbing your head up against the rough carpet, and he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into your hips, jarring your spine.
he finally comes in you with a growl, spurting thick ropes of hot seed onto the entrance of your womb.
your body is limp under his, and while still inside of you, he languidly reaches to the side for your phone. he knows the code for it too, and when he unlocks it, smirks at your background photo.
it's a selfie of you and him— you are posing with two fingers by your face, and simon's arms around your shoulders.
he finds the camera icon and opens it.
it's time that idiot knew you were simon's too.
simon leans forward, his front to your back, and pulls your head up by your tangled, sweaty hair with one hand, and holds the phone with the other directly in front of your face.
"say cheese, pet."
the bright flash of the front camera goes off, and then asks you what that dumbass' name was.
he snarls when you say it, but quickly finds it in your contacts and types a quick message.
'delete this fucking number. if i ever see you around here again, i'll kill you.'
then simon presses send. and then he also sends that picture to his own phone. that fucked stupid look on your face is something he needs as his screensaver.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#cod smut#cbf!simon
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hanging on the telephone
a sex on fire one shot
pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: your boss picks a convenient time to ask for a favor.
warnings: age gap eat my fuckin shorts (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, joel likes (semi) public sex again!, softdom!joel, fingering, unprotected piv, daddy kink, praise kink, cursing. takes place somewhere between state-of-the-art and mile high.
word count: 2.9k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚
“Sh– Fuck – Shit –”
“So goddamn tight, baby, she’s so –” he pinches your hip with his left hand, presses harder on your clit with his right thumb, “– she’s so fuckin’ tight for me.”
“Daddy, I’m…I’m gonna c…Oh, shit, I'm...”
Joel tips his head back, two beats of cocky laughter pushing from his chest. Even with your vision quickly blurring, your eyes rolling shut, you can still see the way his jaw flexes with it, the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Can hear the curve of the words, shaped by the smirk on his lips.
“You gonna come, baby? That what you’re tryna tell me?”
Your hips circle, body clenching around three thick fingers. “M-hm,” you force through gritted teeth.
“Fuck, pretty girl,” he growls, feeling your little cunt squeezing down to his knuckles. “That two now, or three?”
“Th-three.”
“Three,” he whispers, though you know he already fucking knew. He just wanted you to admit it. Wanted to watch as your lips twisted around an answer, struggled through your orgasm quickly approaching. “’n how long have we been alone?”
Your head tilts onto your shoulder, hands reaching down to clutch around his big wrist. You grip onto the strap of his watch, the cold glass face shocking your burning skin.
Joel laughs again, a hot breath of air across your lips, but he doesn’t slow the snap of his fingers, the circles of his thumb. He takes your jaw in his free hand and turns your ear to his lips, whispering, “Asked you a question, baby girl.”
“F-uh-ck,” you whine, hips beginning to give. “I don’t know, Daddy, I don’t –”
His teeth nip at your lobe, lips press into the skin under your ear. A low rumble, wet on your skin when he murmurs, “Ain’t even been ten minutes.”
There had been no recovery time between your first two orgasms. The first bled straight into the next – Joel and his fingers had drawn them from your body before the elevator had even delivered Martha to the lobby, you’re willing to bet.
She’d buttoned her coat, announced that she needed some fresh air – offered for you to join her, and then shook her head when you called back from Joel’s office that you were fine, thanks, Martha.
Maybe she’s onto the two of you. Maybe she knows all the signs of a secret work romance. Hell, maybe Joel’s done this before. You don’t fucking know.
Reason (and perhaps a smidge of desperate hope) convinces you otherwise. Still – you can’t remember the last time the woman left for lunch alone. Can’t remember the last time she gave you two peace in Joel’s office for more than ten minutes, without popping her head in to gossip or roll her eyes at the pair of you.
You hadn’t been up to anything when she was here, anyways – but it didn’t take long after hearing that sharp ding and the signature rattle of the doors announcing her departure, for Joel’s hands to find your waist.
He made some quip, like, Maybe she’s got her own secret man she’s off to see, and you hadn’t the time to come up with anything worth half a laugh before he pulled you into his lap and slipped his fingers up the inside of your thigh.
When did this become what you do, anyway, you wonder? Sneaking around behind your colleagues’ backs; feeling brave enough to slip a palm down your boss’s front and cup his fucking dick through his pants anytime he looks at you a heartbeat too long. Letting the guy spread your legs on the desk you’ve worked at for three years now; letting him kiss and lick and feast between your thighs.
When did this become normal?
He’s intoxicating. He’s all you fucking think about these days. I’m bored, tell me something funny. Can I sit here while you’re on that meeting? When can we fuck next? No one ever fucked me like you do.
“Fuck,” Joel grunts, wrist slowing as the edges of your vision blur. “Like that, baby girl?”
“Just – just like that,” you beg, hands gripping around his shoulders.
“She likes that, doesn’t she?” Joel utters, pulling you closer. “Come on, baby, give me one more.”
The world halts for a second, splits in two, and crashes back together, throwing you over the edge. You come with a pathetic whimper, folding over Joel’s body and rocking uncontrollably, gripping onto his hair to steady yourself.
His arm wraps around the small of your back, holding you down on his hand until you loosen again – his fingers soaked, glistening. He slips them out, rubbing your clit slowly with his middle finger.
“Fuck,” you breathe, reaching for his hand.
His fingers knot around yours, your release slippery and warm on his knuckles. He takes your jaw in his other hand, pulls you in, and slips his tongue across yours. Something wet and needy, something as meaningless as it is meaningful.
Something which beckons your hands to his belt, your fingers slipping behind the thick leather.
The moment is interrupted by an annoying ping from Joel’s phone discarded to the opposite side of the desk.
Blindly, still with his lips attached to yours, he reaches over and swipes it with one hand. He breaks apart the kiss to look down, blinking at the screen. “Oh, shit,” he says, flatly.
You lean over, one hand still lazily playing with his, squinting at the upside-down text thread. “What?” you ask, fiddling with the undone buttons of his shirt.
“Shit,” again, hissed and now…irritated. “Did you–? I didn’t ask you to book a table at Ricci’s, did I?”
“The Italian place?”
Joel nods, hurriedly.
You shake your head, slowly. A little confused. “Why? What’s…?”
“I’m meeting a client there this afternoon,” he mutters, shifting in his chair. The movement rocks you back and forth, but Joel keeps a hand on your hip to hold you.
A weight you know all too well brushes the inside of your thigh. You both clock it. And then you both ignore it.
“Goddamn it,” Joel groans. “There ain’t no chance that Martha…?”
Your head tilts. “You know damn well you don’t trust anyone with that shit but me. No, it’s not booked. You never asked. But it’s fine, just call ‘em. These places can always make room, Mr. Miller.”
Joel squints, jaw lifting when you drag your nose along it to kiss his neck. His rough beard scratches your nose and chin.
But he’s squinting, when you pull back. Half-turning away from you, one eye closed; mouth twisted in a dumb smirk.
“What?” you ask, frowning.
“You can’t do it for me?”
Your eyes roll. “You fucked up,” you fix the tousled strands of his hair back into place, “fix it. You’re a big boy.”
“Willing to pay you a little extra,” he offers, pulling your hips down against his crotch. “Generous amount.”
“Generous,” you echo, letting him drag your slick mess all over his black pants. Your fingers slip beneath his belt, loosening the fly of his pants.
He’s hard already – solid and heavy when your hand dips below his boxer shorts and wraps around his warm cock. Turned on just by the feeling of you around his fingers, the sight and sound of you unraveling in his lap.
He hisses quietly when you pull him free; smearing wet onto your fingers as you drag your fist up and down. And when you look back up, he’s not watching his cock in your hands. Not looking at the skin exposed by your tangled underwear, your skirt sitting almost as high as your waist.
He’s looking straight at you. Your fluttering eyelashes, your tongue dabbing at the wet forming along your bottom lip. His eyes shoot quick as lightning from one to the other. “Like playing with it, huh?” he asks quietly. “’s your favorite thing in the world.”
You grin. “Like it better when it’s…” you push yourself up, running his wide tip along the seam of your cunt, separating your folds and pausing right below your vagina, “…here.”
Joel’s hands push heavier on your hips – lowering you slowly and gently enough that you could stop him, but sure and steady enough that he knows you won’t dare to. He breaches your opening, intrusion enough to stop your breathing, and slips in.
It glides in so smoothly, so easily that you barely feel the stretch at first. Still soft and soaked from your third release, your body pulls him in – until it starts to hurt.
A tiny gasp from your lips and Joel holds his arms out, letting you clutch onto the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. “Easy, easy,” he says, holding your elbows.
It’s only been a couple times. And as good as they were, you’re still not used to him. He’s still bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before; it still hurts just a little, anytime he pushes in.
But still, you smile bracing yourself now with two palms on his chest – his hair damp with sweat in little swirls on the skin below his clavicle. “Still not – callin’ them,” you pant, taking him halfway.
Joel clicks his teeth, studying your cheeky expression. “Be a big girl ‘n do it,” he whispers, eyes following the round trail of your fingers on his sticky chest. “Do it for your daddy.”
You look up at him, smirk tugging on the corners of your lips. “’n what if Daddy doesn’t deserve it? You – shit – you fucked up,” you repeat.
Joel’s hips lift from the chair, cock slipping deeper, painfully slow as it fills you all the way. When the coarse hair at his base meets your clit, your nails digging little curved marks into his skin, he smirks. “He feel like he don’t deserve it to you?”
“No,” you gasp suddenly, eyes screwing shut, “feels – feels so good, Daddy.”
“Uhuh. You gonna call the restaurant for him?”
Another splintered breath. He’s so fucking big, so uncomfortable when you’re sat on him like this. “Yeah,” you whine, “I’ll call ‘em, Daddy, please just…please…”
His chin lifts, lids flickering over inky eyes. “Ah,” he clips, still holding you up on his cock, “no begging. Not ‘til you call.”
And he drops his hips, holding you off his length as you shakily stand. He helps tug your skirt back into place, watches as you lean over him to reach for the phone.
You do your best to sound annoyed, covering the scratch marks of desperation in your voice when you ask, “What’s the number?”
Joel reads it out, standing up, too, and you rest your elbows on the desk, cracking your neck.
Some chipper voice answers the phone, belting down the line to thank you for your call and ask what he can do for you today. He’s too fucking enthusiastic, too distracting, and only when he pauses to check the system for any free tables do you notice the weight at your ass.
The cold of his belt buckle kissing the underside of your thigh, the peeling of your skirt up, up, up. Hands massaging your ass cheeks; then one cupping between your legs to nudge your clit gently.
You jolt forward, a warped sound crying from your lips. The guy says, Pardon me, ma’am? and you stutter your way through a sentence in reply as Joel hooks your panties to the side.
“We’ve got…let’s see…” The host hums some stupid fucking tune, clicks his tongue against his teeth while you tug on the phone cord – unable to stop from stealing a glance over your shoulder and yet unwilling to give your boss the satisfaction of knowing you’re watching.
Joel pulls the belt free from its loops, drops it to the seat of his chair with a thud, and lines up right behind you.
You cover the microphone. “This what you wanted?” you hiss.
He hums. “You’re the one who bent over, darlin’.”
“Asshole.”
“Way to speak to your boss,” he grumbles, and shoves in.
“Christ,” you yelp, and the host pauses again.
“Um…We have one o’clock?” he asks, keyboard clicking in the background.
Your voice catches, body bouncing against the desk rhythmically. The wooden edge shunts roughly against your pelvis, bruises likely blooming already with the rate Joel’s going.
He bends forward, his right ear lining with the phone. “Say again?” he whispers.
“One,” you repeat.
Joel shakes his head. “Too soon. Ain’t hungry yet.”
“It’s twelve,” you mutter, teeth gritted, “you might be hungry in an hour.”
“Hm,” he considers, leaning back upright. “Maybe, long as I keep myself busy.”
He thrusts forward again, pulling you by the waist until you’re flush against his chest. His hands slip around to cup your breasts, squeezing and pinching and holding you still.
“Anything – later?” you ask down the line, switching the phone to the opposite ear to let Joel in at your neck. His teeth graze the skin, sharp pain when the blood vessels splatter streaks of crimson.
The host offers up a table at two-fifteen, which Joel seems to like the sound of, given the moan he lets free when you ask.
“Two-fifteen’s good,” you say, dropping the phone to the desk when your boss’s hand sneaks around your hip. “Joel,” you gasp, holding your voice at as low a volume as you can, “Joel, I swear to – Jesus Christ, you’re gonna –”
He’s laughing, playing with your clit as he fucks you, lips buried into the crook of your shoulder. “You my good girl?” he asks, bending your bodies forward. “Then book the goddamn table.”
“Ma’am?” the host’s asking, when you lift the phone to your ear again. “You still there?”
“Still – still here,” you breathe, flattening the whine in your voice. Joel’s starting to falter, starting to lose his rhythm. You can feel yourself beginning to tighten around him, give in to the pressure between your hips.
“What’s the name, ma’am?”
“Huh?”
Joel laughs, lips against your ear again. “Tell ‘im, pretty girl. Tell him who your daddy is.”
“My – fuck – M-Miller,” you reply, knees buckling. “Miller.”
“Alright, a table for two for…Miller…And that’s M-I-L-L–”
“–E-R, yep. Miller.”
“Good girl,” Joel pants against your temple, bristles of his beard grazing your cheek. He wraps one arm tight around your waist, clamping you against his body, the other still toying with your clit. Hips snapping roughly into yours, he whispers sharp in your ear, “I’m gonna come, darlin’, gonna fill you up real good, alright?”
“Can you wai–?”
“Alright, that’s you booked in, ma’am! We can’t wait to –”
“Great,” you choke back, falling forward with Joel at your back, “thanks. Thank you, we’ll see you – see you –”
Joel reaches over your shoulder and jams a thumb into the hook of the phone. “Fuck,” he groans, holding you steady as his cock throbs and a wet heat floods somewhere deep inside you.
The handset slips from your grasp, clattering against the desk as your body falls limp, your pussy jolting around him. His hands are the only thing keeping you steady, keeping you from melting into a puddle at his feet. A love-drunk sigh, the word Daddy spilling out into the room – the last thing before your breath cuts and he’s dragging you back down into the chair with him again.
Joel sinks back into the leather, sighing as he settles you again in his broad lap. He kisses you until you stir – lips soft against your temple, your cheek, your neck, to bring you back to him. His cock’s still stiff, half-limp and shining at the bottom of his stomach.
“’s a good girl,” he coos, letting you collapse against his chest.
Your cunt pulses, clenching around nothing; Joel’s come and yours trickling into your underwear.
“I hate you,” you whisper, playing with his hands.
“I know,” he mumbles into your skull, “bad boss.”
You breathe a laugh. “Who’s the client?”
“Mm,” Joel muses, adjusting in the chair, “nobody. Canceled on me last minute.”
He grins when you snap upright, head cocking. “Are you fucking kidding me? You just put me through all that for no goddamn reason?”
“Naw,” he protests, frowning, “I thought the two of us could go.”
There’s a softness to his face which dampens the fire in your belly as quickly as it ignited. Something genuine, something honest. You know him well enough by now to tell when he’s asking something of you, and not expecting it.
You feel your cheeks heat. “To lunch? Together?”
He shrugs. “Why the hell not? We’re going to Paris together.”
You blink at him, considering it. He’s not fucking wrong, is he? That same fire strikes again – only, a little further north, a little harder to control. It tickles your lungs, shaking the breath as you suck it in. You cover yourself with a blunt, “Martha’s gonna be pissed,” laced through as easy-going a sigh as you can manage.
Joel laughs, nodding. “I am sure she’ll get over it. Quiet office for the afternoon. Paradise.”
You smile, looking down at your hands clasped around one of his. You give his knuckles a small squeeze, and mutter, “You’re paying, Miller. And I’m ordering big.”
If not for the dark beard on his cheeks, and the sudden protective movement of his hand over them – if not for the fact that you’ve never in all your time here seen it happen…you’d swear the man was blushing.
“Okay,” Joel says, cheeks lifting. “Anything you want.”
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#ceo!joel miller#ceo!joel#sugardaddy!joel miller#the last of us#the last of us fic#tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#sex on fire
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hi there!! i was thinking of a mean!luke castellan but has a *secret* soft spot for reader and he gets really worked up while training with Clarisse so reader offers herself to him so he can get his anger out and at first he's hesitant but he finally gives in!!
also could i be anon? thank you!! also i understand that there's lots of requests and that i don't mind waiting x
this is such a good idea omgg
And yes, you can be the og anon 🫶
MDNI!
Mean!Luke Castellan who's done all of this work, became the best swordsman at camp, for what? All of those blood, sweat and tears, just to trip over his own feet. He couldn't help it, you were training nearby, he just couldn't focus. And it showed. Every time he messed up on a simple side step because he was watching your hips, or everytime Clarisse mocked him, saying he was 'head over heels' before tripping him. It infuriated him.
Mean!Luke Castellan who goes for a water break, trying to calm himself down. He was so tempted to just slice Clarisse's head off of her neck. A clean slice, just one slip of the wrist.. All of those thoughts left his mind when you sat beside him. He can't help the way his eyes soften, or the way his irritated scowl becomes a soft smile. Your presence helped a bit, but his body was still tense and his jaw was still clenched.
You noticed.
"I can help you relax, if you want.."
You said it so innocently, he didn't think anything of it. Then your hand slipped down to his leg, sliding slightly up, at an angle where the shadows of the ampitheater hid the action. Eventually he understood what you were hinting at, that soft smile becoming a smirk.
"I can't, I'm in the middle of training."
You could see right through it, those deep brown eyes told you everything. He wanted you to make a half assed excuse, to pull him away and let him relentlessly pound into you. But he would never, ever admit that. He had a reputation to uphold!
"Please..? I wanna help."
Gods, your smile.. It was so innocent. Nobody would've known you were practically begging for him to fuck you, to use you to get his anger out. And gods, it drove him mad.
Mean!Luke Castellan who grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you away. Nobody dared to question it, especially not with how Luke was gripping your wrist. Nobody even noticed the slight bulge in Luke's jeans, not even you. You were to caught up in your own excitement.
Mean!Luke Castellan who soon has you pinned inside one of the bigger bathroom stalls. Before you know it he has his tongue inside your mouth, his hands gripping your hips like you'd evaporate into thin air if he didn't do so. Soon he's bucking his hips against yours, all of his previous anger seeping out into his actions. It shows whenever he's ripping your orange shirt off, when he nearly breaks the button of your shorts, and it especially shows whenever he pushes three fingers into you without warning. He can't help but smirk at the whine that leaves your mouth, it was pitiful.
"Already whining.. thought you wanted this, baby..?"
He's fingering you quickly and roughly, but it hardly prepares you for what was to come. Soon he pulls his fingers out, undoing his belt as fast as he could. He pulls his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, lining up with your hole just as quickly. He presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips, almost like he was thanking you for letting him do this to you. You would've smiled if he didn't thrust into you seconds later, making your face contort into pleasure. He didn't bother telling you to be quiet, he didn't care. He was too focused on pounding into you, his hips thrusting at a speed you didn't even know was possible. You have tears streaming down your cheeks, making him smirk.
"You can take it, baby.. fuckin' take it.."
He's leaving bruises on your hips that will last for at least a week, snapping his hips. All of his anger was slowly leaving his body, being replaced with pure pleasure and need. Tears keep streaming down your face as he doesn't slow down, not even once.
Anger really does change a person.
request by: anon
#anon#luke castellan#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan imagines#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x reader#luke#200#300#400
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Lay Off The Flannels
DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: 1.3k
Summary: Joel gets handsy while your father temporarily steps away.
Warnings: Age gap (unspecified - obviously a legal one though, hello??). No physical description of reader (pic above is used for aesthetic only!). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (F receiving). Using a flannel to clean up🫣... Awkward interactions with an oblivious father. Fluffy/light-hearted ending :). I think that's it! Let me know if otherwise!
Author's Note: Hey y'all! Soo my personal definition of a drabble is when something is written and posted on a whim, and that's exactly what I'm doing here.. This was only proof-read once by me, so if you see any typos and confusing wording... NO YA DIDN'T. Anyway, I have a bunch of WIPs needing to get done, but the stress was getting to me, so I took a break from those and wrote this fun little scenario to calm my mind and give me a good little laugh. I hope you guys enjoy!💚
MASTERLIST
“We shouldn’t be-”
“I know,” he says.
“It’s too risky.”
“I know,” he says.
You pull his lips back onto yours, breathing in each other’s breaths, consuming each other eagerly as if the world was going to end if you didn’t.
His lips drag down to your jaw, to the sweet spots on your neck that make you mewl such addicting sounds he’ll never tire of, tasting the product of the hard work you did today with your father. His best friend.
His best friend, who-
“He should be back any minute now,” you say breathily as Joel drops down to the ground, his knees cracking from the sudden change.
Joel is desperate. Frantic, even. The speed he unbuttons and unzips your jeans and yanks them—underwear included—off of you has your hands flying to grasp at the edge of the workbench you’re sitting on. “Don’t care,” he says, inhaling in a breath, inhaling your arousal. “Need to fuckin’ taste you.”
Your father’s car crapped out on him a few days ago, and being the untrustful man he was, he bought the parts that needed replacing to do it himself. He had you working on his car with him, teaching you what to do if you were ever stuck in a similar situation—”It ain’t worth the bill, takin’ it to them mechanics. It’ll cost ya an arm and a leg just for them to diagnose your car’s issue even if you tell ‘em ya know what’s wrong, never mind actually fixin’ it,” he said to you this morning.
As soon as your father left, Joel was making his way to you, large strides cutting the time in half. His arms wrapped around your waist, picking you up from the seat you were situated on and lifted you to the bench against the wall behind you. His lips were on yours immediately, open-mouthed and needy. His hand slammed onto the black button beside your head, the garage door sliding down thereafter.
Joel grabbed onto your thighs, settling them onto his broad shoulders, stabling you and opening you up to him all in one. Wasting no time, his entire face dives into you, tongue immediately going to your sobbing entrance, hooked nose pushing directly onto your clit.
“Fuck,” you gasp out loud, “Joel, oh my god,” your head hitting the wall, eyes rolling back.
The moans you’re feeding Joel has him groaning into you, his hands tightening his grip on the bottom of your thighs, the dull ache of it an indicator that you’ll have bruises forming within the hour.
His tongue—god, you love his tongue—always reaches places you never thought was possible, offering you a glimpse into Heaven each time he tastes you. The squelch of your pussy and his groans equivalent to that of an angel’s choir. You never want him to stop. Especially because his mouth is the closest to Heaven either of you will ever get.
Your hole begins to flutter around his tongue, your slick pouring out of you at this point. You’re close. Joel knows it. His tongue leaves your hole and is quickly replaced by two of his fingers, sliding in with ease because of your level of arousal. His tongue meets your clit, licking and circling and absolutely worshiping it as if it’s the most unique of pearls to ever exist.
The combination of his fingers and his tongue—plus his whimpers—are what do it for you. After a few more circles from his tongue, you’re cumming and you’re cumming hard, your liquids running down his wrist and soaking the rim of his sleeve. He gives one last suck to your clit before he lifts off of it, tilting his head up to watch you come undone, his fingers never pausing as he works you through your climax.
“Baby,” you’re whining, reaching that point of oversensitivity with his fingers, but your hips betray you as they grind into his hand.
“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, gauging the contradictions of your body’s needs and wants. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you, greedily sucking them into his mouth, not letting a drop of your liquid gold go to waste.
He stands at full height again, his hands on your thighs to scoot you back from the edge, giving you more stability, so he can let go of you and take his flannel off so he can wipe you down with it.
He sets his flannel beside you, reaching for your bottoms on the ground. He puts them back on you, gentle as ever, and guides you off the bench—albeit, on some wobbly legs. Once you’re breathing returns to semi-normal, you’re grabbing him by his t-shirt and pulling him in for a heady kiss. Your tongue breaches his mouth, and he lets you in selfishly, sucking on your tongue for anything more you can give him. You taste yourself on him, tangy with a hint of something that lights your neurons on fire, turning you on more even though he just pulled one of the most draining of orgasms out of you.
Joel pulls away from you, and like clock work, the garage door is whirring open. Your father. He’s walking up the driveway with a Harbor Freight bag.
“Got what you needed?” you immediately ask, trying to control the topic of conversation.
“Yeah. Why’d you close the garage?”
Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before going back to normal. “The heat was getting a little much. Was gonna open it up when you got back,” you say.
He nods his head, then looks to Joel. “Hey, bud,” he says as he sets his bag down, walking up to give his best friend a handshake. “What’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, “Not that ya need a reason, of course,” he adds quickly, a light chuckle leaves his mouth.
“Just thought I’d swing by. Thought your girl here was workin’ on your car all by herself, was gonna make sure the damage was minimal,” he teases, looking at you with a wink. “But now you’re here,” Joel smiles. “I gotta take a leak anyhow, I’ll see y’all later, yeah?” Joel says as he makes his way to the end of your garage.
Your father offers a quick yeah, his eyes zoning in on the flannel atop his workbench. Before you can stop him, your father grabs it. “Oh, Joel, don’t forget ya flannel,” he says waving it in the air as he lightly jogs to him before he gets too far. Joel’s face immediately flushes, as pale as if he’s seen a ghost, as he realizes what your father is holding. His eyes dart to you, your expression just as traumatized.
“Oh, y-yeah,” Joel says as he quickly takes it in his grasp, “T-thanks.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he says as he begins walking back to you, stopping midway to turn back to Joel. “And Joel?” your dad yells out.
Joel turns around, reluctant.
“Maybe lay off on the flannels during the summer, yeah?? That shit was soaked in sweat!” Your father says as his laugh grows to an uncontrollable level.
Joel’s jaw drops to the floor as your face turns to absolute terror.
“Dad!” you exclaim, absolutely stunned at his comment. “I’m done helping you for the day,” you say as you shake your head, gathering your things and heading inside.
Your dad’s laugh turns into a howl at your reaction, not realizing (thankfully) what’s got you so uncomfortable.
As soon as you make it to your room, the entirety of the situation finally hits you, and you’re gasping for air at how hard you’re laughing.
As you lay on your bed to try to calm yourself down, your phone rings. It’s Joel. Your laughter immediately starts back up again, and you answer, skipping all forms of introduction.
“Better lay off the flannels, Miller,” you say, barely able to keep it together by the end of your comment.
“Shut up,” he says, stoic as ever.
A giggle erupts out of you, causing the biggest of butterflies to flutter all throughout his belly. “Can I come over later?”
“I was expectin’ you to, darlin’.”
End note: I'm sure there are a few fics out there with a premise similar to this, of reader doin some ✨things✨ with dbf!joel in reader’s dad’s garage 🫣 — I think it's pretty common given that Joel is a pretty laborious kinda guy, so if you've read anything similar, please share them in the comments or message me them! I'd love to read them and also give credit where credit is due. This fic fandom we've created is about spreading creativity, and that's exactly what I would like to do here. :)
Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @teatree121 @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
#smut#fluff#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedrostories#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fanfiction#one shot#drabble#joel x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut#joel miller one shot#joel miller fluff
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Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot
The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.
Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC
Word Count: 5.9k
Warning: Smut
Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.
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Answer your fuckin phone.
She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.
Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.
I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.
So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.
"What the fuck, Joy!"
Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.
"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.
"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"
She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."
"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"
"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"
"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."
It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.
"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."
"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"
A long, tense moment crawls by.
"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.
"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.
"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."
She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.
"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.
"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.
Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.
Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.
She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.
But he's pissing her off right now.
"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.
"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."
The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."
"No. You just want pussy."
"That too," he snickers.
Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.
"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.
"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.
"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.
"I might be," she gasps.
"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."
Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."
"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.
"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.
"Is that right?"
"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."
The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.
"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.
"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.
"Make it five."
"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.
His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.
"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.
Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.
Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.
"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.
"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."
Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.
"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."
"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.
He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.
"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.
"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.
"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."
Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.
Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.
Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.
"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.
"Yes," he responds breathlessly.
"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.
"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.
"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"
She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."
Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.
A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.
"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.
Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.
Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.
Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.
"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.
The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."
She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...
"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.
"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.
Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.
Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."
"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.
"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.
"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.
"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.
"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.
"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.
"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.
"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.
"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.
Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."
Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.
"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."
"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."
His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.
"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."
Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.
"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.
Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...
"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.
"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.
"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."
Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.
"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.
Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.
"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."
"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"
"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."
"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.
"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...
"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.
Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.
Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘
"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.
"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.
"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.
I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.
"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.
Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"
"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"
Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."
"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."
She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.
THE END
--------------
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