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ohimsummer · 5 months

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THAT’S THE WRONG NUMBER ft. TOJI FUSHIGURO

— minors dni, female! reader, riding toji, kind of exhibitionism, reader gets called a slut, creampie, light dumbification, cuckholding, inspired by a conversation I had with my coworker lol

wc 1.1k

Toji’s eyes jerk open, the soft ‘plap plap’ of you bouncing on his cock overcome by the shrill ring of his cellphone. The device, having obnoxiously interrupted his bliss, vibrates restlessly on the wooden side table. Toji stares at the unknown number on his screen, a brow raised in mild concern. There were only a select few people who had his number and all of them were listed in his contacts, so he really had no idea who it could be.

Your movement slows as you notice the subtle change in his mood.” Somethin’ wrong, Toji?”

He smoothes a large hand over your waist, tightens his grip and raises your body until just his tip remains inside. “You don’t worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout it, doll, keep goin’ for me.”

Humming and lowering your hips, Toji doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re engulfing his cock in your needy hole again. Your hands find purchase on his spread knees, and you watch him through the window’s reflection. A hand reaches around to squeeze your breast before massaging a nipple under his thumb. Toji pinches it between two fingers, drawing a whine from you, and then tugs at the hardened bud while the other hand tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Mm?”, Toji grunts into the speaker, obviously annoyed.

The other person hesitates for a second, before asking, “Er–, is this, uh, Y/N?”

Dark eyes bore holes into your back, and your skin tingles beneath Toji’s hard, irritated gaze. “Who’s askin’ ?”

The person, some guy, stutters over the line for a few seconds and Toji grins. “Some-someone gave me their number earlier, sorry I must’ve called the wrong one-“

“Nah, nah.,” Toji quickly corrects them. “She’s right here, lemme give her the phone.”

His words barely register in your mind before Toji’s holding the phone to your ear. You hesitate, and he warns you with a particularly harsh thrust before you’re taking the phone in a shaky grasp. “Attagirl.” he groans lowly behind you. As you slur out a half-assed greeting, you notice your boyfriend plant his feet on the floor, grip fastening on your hips as Toji stills your movements. You give him a pitiful, needy glance, one he huffs a laugh at, and Toji uses his strength to hold you steady.

“H-hey–!,” you squeak out as Toji suddenly slams into you, breath snatched away at his sudden wild and relentless pace.

You recognize the voice on the other end instantly, some weirdo who wouldn’t take no for an answer when he asked for your number, so you gave him Toji’s instead. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, both in aggravation and toe-curling pleasure from the thick drag of Toji’s cock amongst your walls. You feel every vein and every twitch, every throb of his length amidst the wet heat of your pussy, and you stuff a fist between your teeth just to smother your moans.

“Hey, what’s up?,” the guy asked. “It’s Anthony, we met in the superm…”

His voice fades away instantly, all you can focus on is the way Toji’s fat dick plunges deeper and deeper with every thrust. You balance on your toes, nails sinking into Toji’s legs just to help you stay upright. He runs a hand down the arch of your back, presses you forward just a bit and leers at the gooey, white mess built up at the base of his cock. The lewd mixture of cum, slick, and precum connecting the both of you between every thrust. Just under the sloppy sound of skin against skin, Toji can still hear that prick on the phone rambling on and on, but what he can’t hear? Those filthy cries and curses you usually make whenever he impales you on his dick. And he doesn’t like that, not one bit.

“T- Toji!,” you feebly warn as his hand trails lower, stopping to lightly twist your erected nipples before making it’s way to rub rough, messy circles on your swollen clit. “Don’t–!”

“Uhh…,” Anthony mutters awkwardly on the phone. “Is this a bad time…?”

“G-give me, ah, one min–ute!”, you force between half-muffled whines before Toji shoves himself into you once more, nudging at that spongy spot inside you and a broken sob breaks out from your lips.

“You sure?”

A quick “mhm!” is all you can muster as your release threatens to tip over the edge. Moans and whimpers leak out around your fist still tightly wedged in your mouth, soaked with drool that also drips down your chin, and you opt to hold Toji’s phone at arm’s length.

He stands behind you, dragging your hips up with his own to continue his feverish assault on your body. Every thrust pounded into you lurches your body forward, the phone now dangling in your feeble grip. You clutch at his forearm, nails leaving behind angry, red scratches and you can’t hide the loud, ruined wails Toji drives out of you.

A bruising grasp on your hips, he leans over your back to mutter against your ear. “Ya still on the phone with that guy?” He laughs a low chuckle in your ear. “Ya want him to hear you bein’ a slut on my dick, huh? That’s why you givin’ my number out to random guys, so they can hear you on the phone gettin’ fucked up?” Your pussy clenches around him at his words.

And just to make a point, his teeth sink into the sensitive spot of your neck, and you groan so loud there’s no way Anthony didn’t hear it. You can faintly hear him still on the line, but you couldn’t possibly bring yourself to care at this point. Toji’s dick batters against the sweet spot of your pussy, and it has your brain turned to complete mush. Your legs nearly give out as your high comes crashing down on you in massive waves, and Toji holds you upright to fuck you right through it. His dick twitches inside you and you can tell he’s close. “Ugh, f-fuck,” he grunts into your neck, “Cummin’ angel–“ His thrusts grow stuttered, balls tightening and he slows to a grind against your ass as heavy loads of his release spurt deep inside you.

You drawl out one last moan as Toji eases out, leaving you with an empty sensation; you can feel his and your cum dripping out your fluttering hole and down your thighs. Arms limply falling towards the floor, the cellphone slips from your hand, luckily landing on the carpet with a soft ‘thud!’, and you whine when Toji plunges two thick fingers into your cunt to stuff his cum back inside. “You worked hard for this, didn’t you? Can’t waste it now.” And you mindlessly nod your head in agreement, much to his amusement. A loud round of pants and gasps for air fill the room, apparently loud enough for Anthony to hear as you and Toji both watch the words ‘Call Ended’ show up on the screen.

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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platonic yandere! Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warnings: aged-up! reader [in early to late twenties], ooc, overprotective! Alastor, possessive behavior, implied yandere!vox, stalking, knowledge based on the six episodes of the 2024 season.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!

Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @isuckatwritingsobenice for providing criticism and feedback.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)

Tomorrow was your turn for Show and Tell.

According to Charlie’s lesson plan, it is an activity where your interests and stories are shared with a group of people. But you did not know what you could share with everyone.

They know why you are here at the hotel.

They know you were ex-military.

They know you have prosthetic arms after you lost them in the war.

They know you were an Auto Memory Doll for the Lieutenant’s company.

They know many things about you…what is else there to talk about? You had thought long and hard but nothing came to mind. Your Remington typewriter is only used for work. The only ones who would even be remotely interested in its history were Alastor and Sir Pentious. Including your nightgown and tool kit to fix your hands, there is nothing else in the hotel that is under your possession except for a crimson parasol that the Alastor had gifted to you.

That was when you remembered something. A difficult man who lived by a lake. A man who struggled to write his next play until he asked you to take the pale blue parasol and….

You could show them that. However, there is no lake around the Pride Ring. The closest thing to an ocean was in another ring. Nor is there one here at the hotel because it stood on top of a hill. Yet…there is someone who is capable of conjuring something like that with a snap of his fingers. The Radio Demon.

Would he actually hear your request or simply say ‘no’ with a boisterous laugh was another question entirely. Your redemption was on the line here….at this point….you might have to make a deal with him after all. So you sought him out in his radio station in the hotel’s west wing. You had heard from Niffty that he was planning a special show this evening to celebrate his return. When you knocked on the door, he called to see who is the delightful visitor who has come to see him when he is quite busy at the moment.

“It’s me, sir.” You said. “Permission to enter?” You asked. Some habits were difficult to forget, especially when in the presence of a cannibal gentleman, as Vaggie has referred to Alastor. In the nicest way possible.

You only heard silence on the other side of the door. Assuming that he was not in the mood or struck speechless at the absurdity of your idea, you spoke again. “My apologies, Alastor. I didn't mean to disturb you. I will see you at dinner.”

You took a step away from the door, bowing your head. “I wish you good luck with your radio broadcast.” You turned around, grabbing the wrought-iron railing leading back down to the main floor with your gloved hand. You only took one step when the door leading to Alastor’s office swung open. You looked over your shoulder and saw Alastor leaning out of the doorway, wearing a wide grin as his bright red irises locked onto your gaze. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” You began. “I’ll ask Charlie if I could do something else for my Show and Tell presentation -”

“Nonsense, my dear!” He exclaimed. You watched his lanky form dissipate into wispy darkness, slithering across the floor and beneath your feet. Your mouth opened to interject that it was truly all right, but your body was not listening. Instead of leaving the Radio Demon to his work, you walked back up the stairs and straight into Alastor’s office. But you were not in control of your body. It had moved on its own.

The door closed behind you with a loud click, and you were seated on a couch adjacent to what appeared to be the soundboard. A shadow crawling out from the sleek wooden floor and up the golden bear claw of the furniture, twisting and writhing until he appeared by your side. “I didn’t know you could do that.” You said finally.

“Oh, I can do many things, darling~!” He said, leaning forward. “And do not fret over my listeners, they will get their daily dose of perfection as promised~! Now then, how can I help you?”

“I have an idea.” You replied. You then went on to explain what you wanted to do…but you were not sure if it could be pulled off. You clasped your gloved hands together, squeezing them in your lap. “Please be honest…is it possible for you to do this for me? I am willing to make a deal with you. Not for my soul because it is not worth anything to someone of your caliber as an overlord…but I am willing to do a favor for you.”

He stared at you for a long moment, still smiling as he tilted his head to one side. A high-pitched static noise bounced off of the walls till silence filled the room again.

“In the first place my dear there is no such thing as an unworthy soul, though I could name a few individuals. Certainly not yours. However, I will agree that granting this favor for your soul is asking for too much for something too little. Instead, let’s do a simple deal. Quid pro quo, if you will~! I do this for you, and you will help me as I host my radio show. Bringing me food and water, screening phone calls, the basics. Your choice. And~! Before we agree to this, I must be the one to see this little presentation first. Not even Charlie will see it. It will ruin the fun~!” He held out his hand, green smoke twirling around his gloved fingers. “Do we have a deal?”

You glanced down at his hand, then back at his face before raising your own to your mouth. Tugging the leather glove off your teeth, it fell into your lap. You extended your hand, the dim lights bouncing off of your adamantine skeletal fingers as you gently placed them into his open palm. You looked back at him. “Is this acceptable?” You asked. “Our hands being like this instead of a handshake. I do not want to push any more boundaries or waste your time further.”

Alastor looked down at your hands with a stupefied expression before he hummed, taking your mechanical wrist, holding your hand up and then….folding your hand over his own.

“If you want to make this deal official, both parties must shake hands on it. Finger tapping doesn’t count~!”

You watched the same green smoke from earlier envelop your intertwined hands, shifting into tiny skulls that circled around and around before disappearing entirely. The deal is made. You thought. Then you wondered, why is he still holding your hand?

You looked at him. “Sir?”

“Hm? Oh, my apologies~!” He quickly withdrew his hand, standing up from the couch. You followed suit, confused a little at his sudden actions.

“Now, let’s get started~!” He snapped his fingers again, and the vintage wallpaper of the radio station disappeared, replaced with the open, crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Looking around, you saw that the two of you were standing outside of the hotel. “So…you want to put the ‘lake’ here,” He said, pointing at the open space of the hill going down towards the city. “And you will be using a parasol while…performing this stunt?”

“Yes.” You said. Then you realized that you did not have your own on hand. “It will…make it difficult to perform without it.” And it was how Olive made it home after she had slayed the monster. To return to her father, whom she loved the most in the whole world.

“Fair enough.” Alastor said. “An act can’t be completed without the necessary props~!”

You speculated that him snapping his fingers is either something he enjoyed immensely or it was just how he conjured his powers that were not affiliated with his manipulation of the shadows. You have come to this conclusion after careful observation of him, and your parasol quite literally popped out of thin air and in your hands suddenly.

“Thank you.” You opened the parasol carefully, raising it over your head and now focused entirely on the space where the lake is supposed to be. Alastor hummed, and with the fourth snap of fingers, a foggy and inky body of water appeared several feet from both of you. Then he disappeared, his shadows slithering to the other side. He was ready. But were you? Yes. Yes, you were.

You stared at the water for a moment before taking three steps back, digging the heel of your boots into the ground. You bent your knees.

Then you took off.

Alastor thought you were a sweet little darling. Despite being insightful and a quick learner, however, you were oblivious to the signs of someone who takes an interest in you romantically. But he does not dare think that sending random gifts to the hotel, stalking someone through the cameras around the city whenever you leave the hotel for work or to run errands for Charlie, or even trying to ‘coincidentally’ mention your name and antagonize him on his broadcast qualifies. Alastor knows that Vox is doing it. He knows why, because the clout video podcast is bold to assume that you are his lover, the Radio Demon’s lover.

Ha! No. Not at all. You were simply someone who entertained him and needed protection from licentious fellows who would not hesitate to take advantage of your innocence and ensnare you in a contract. That will not happen. So unless Vox wants to make an appearance on his broadcast as a new voice for all of Hell to hear, the fucking egoistical piece of shit had better keep his distance.

But imagine his surprise when you approached him for help. You, the person who would rather try to figure everything out on your own! Why, he was delighted~!

Granted it was for one of Charlie’s silly exercises, yet how could he not take advantage of this opportunity to get to know his darling a little bit more? So he offered a deal with you, listing the terms and the two of you shook on it…though he had to put your hand around his in a handshake. You were still wary of him, no doubt, and knew he did not like being touched. Suppose there was a benefit of working under Rosie as her secretary in his absence.

No doubt she told stories about you as much as she told him about you. She would go on about how efficient you were, how you always showed up on time and dressed appropriately as per the rules of the Cannibal Colony, etc. Why, she told him so much about you that he had been curious to meet you~!

And he was not disappointed.

Now, as he watched you gracefully leap across the murky lake he had conjured, the parasol held high over your head in your gloved hand, Alastor was spellbound at the sight. His smile grew wider, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. But he refused to allow himself to get dirty again and pay another visit to the tailor; that was why he kept several feet away from the water, and he chose not to appear on the opposite side of the lake, as much as he’d like to. Oh well, there was always next time.

You had almost slipped, however, when your back foot began to loose traction on the water.

Well…nothing wrong with providing a little assistance, as far as he is aware of.

He summoned a tentacle from beneath the lake with a wave of his hand, letting you use it as leverage to bolster your speed and give you the stability needed to make one final leap to the opposite side. And you did, much to his delight and yours. When you smiled brightly at him….well, he was very pleased. He had just witnessed a new expression that he was quite sure no one else has seen since your arrival at the hotel. He chuckled darkly. He watched you walk back to him, face flushed, still clutching the parasol in one hand and the other one raising your skirt so that you wouldn’t tumble over your feet.

My, my, you truly are a fascinating soul.” He remarked, a hint of ominous delight in his voice. He had no doubt that you will dazzle everyone with your performance tomorrow and with his help. Afterwards…well, there will be no way for Vox to interfere. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

Taglist

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #yandere male #platonic yandere #character!reader #violet evergarden!reader #cw possessiveness #tw possessiveness #yandere #ns.fw #forbidden-sunlight #tw stalking #cw stalking #yandere vox x reader #yandere vox

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chaotic-mystery · 8 months

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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. Joel isn’t too happy and has to punish you in the best way he knows how.

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Mean!joel, swearing, arguing, brat tamer! If you squint, drinking, teasing Joel, a slight comment about cheating but would never, rough!joel, spanking,choking,spitting, manhandling, sir!kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, pet names (little girl, little one, baby doll, Joel calls you a crazy bitch oNCE, etc) power dynamic, big girthy age gap (not specified but enough to where you call him old man) slight bullying of peepaw for forgetting stuff, rough sex. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

Word Count: 3K

This is 1000% based on this gif @worhols sent me 🖤 love u Becca

Even though your Saturday morning was filled with a shift at work, you couldn’t wait to get home to see your man and take all afternoon to get ready for your date at 7. Date night was far and in between now for you two, so some fun outside the house was what you were needing. Your key entered the lock on the front door and turned, pushing the door open to music echoing from the basement.

The kitchen counter was covered in beer boxes and bottles of liquor, chips, and Joel’s case of poker. What the fuck?

“Joel, honey?” You called out and you could hear the thumping on the basement stairs from his boots getting louder as he got closer to the main floor.

“Hey baby doll, what’s up? How was work?” The back of his hand wipes his forehead slowly, gathering all the sweat off of him. The look on your face was so telling that something was bothering you.

“Work was fine, uh I’m wondering why there’s shit all over the counter like you’re going to have guys night in the basement?” You crossed your arms across your chest and met his eyes, his jaw slowing the gum chewing down as he thought carefully of what to say next.

“Beeecause we’re playing poker tonight in the basement…” It came out more as like a question and then it became apparent to you he completely forgot about your date night.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, “Joel…we were supposed to have a date tonight..did you not remember?”

For such a tan man, you didn’t think he could turn so pale with shock. His hands met his hips and he sighed, looking down at his boots.

“Darlin’ listen I- I’m sorry I forgot we had plans. Tommy asked if we could do it here and it slipped my mind about date night tonight.” Those beautiful brown eyes found yours once more and made your body shiver with sadness and anger. “How did you forget when I’ve been reminding you all week? Jesus Christ, you don’t listen to me, old man.” You turned and started to take off your jacket, not wanting to say anymore than what you already have.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone with me little girl. I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing, Joel. I don’t want you to do anything except go down there and have a fun time with your friends and play your stupid fucking game. I should ask one of them to take me out because if you can’t remember a simple date, maybe they can show me a better time.” The smartass tone was dripping off your words and it only heated the situation more.

“What the hell did you just say?” His head cocked to the side to make sure he heard you correctly. The smirk on your face only made him more irritated and he was just about to ask you to repeat yourself when he was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Saved by the bell, go figure.” You muttered at him and went to open the door leaving Joel standing there in a mix of emotions. You’d never in a million years date his friends but you just wanted to get a rise from him. It was only fair he was in a shitty mood after putting you in one.

You greeted them all with small ‘hellos’ and smiles, Tommy engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you playin’ poker with us tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he releases you from his arms, walking to Joel and hits his arm lightly. Joel is still clearly caught off guard from your snappy digs and doesn’t say anything to anyone.

“Oh, no. No poker for me. Joel forgot to mention it to me, guess that age is starting to catch up to him, huh?” You joke, putting the clean dishes away that were still in the strainer. All the guys laugh and Tommy nudges Joel right in his side with a stupid grin on his face.

“You just gonna take that from her? Man you’re soft now.” He says to Joel and laughs again. Joel looks up at you and burns imaginary holes into your back from staring so hard. “S’alright, she’s jus’ being a brat right now. Why don’t you guys grab the shit from the counter and we’ll start soon?” Joel asks and nods to the countertop in front of you as you stand against the cabinets and squint at him. They grab the stuff and start to head down, a few of them and Tommy hanging back to wait for Joel.

He walks to you and grabs your wrist by your hip and squeezes it, whispering in your ear, “Knock it off. Now.”

You snatch your wrist from him and he places a rough kiss on your cheek, barely pressing his lips to your skin. He was pissed off at you for even entertaining that stupid idea of you and his friends to him.

“Yes, sir.” He clocked your sarcasm instantly and glared at you. Your eyes met his only for a moment as he turned around on his heel and headed to the basement. With a short moment he disappears down the stairs and you’re left sulking in your emotions. This wasn’t the first time he forgot date night, this was actually the fourth. If Joel thought he could start to get comfortable and not put in so much effort for taking you out anymore, boy did he have another thing coming.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” you mumble to yourself and clean up the mess he left of grocery bags and receipts.

After about an hour cleaning up the main floor and having to listen to Joel's laugh carry up the stairs and into your ears, you had enough. If he wanted to play, you could play too.

Going to your shared bedroom, you start going through his closet and grab one of his old white t-shirts he had made up for work years ago. Their logo on the back left more room in the front to see everything under it. Slipping on your shortest pajama shorts and hiking them up just under your ass, you giggled at yourself in the mirror and almost changed your mind when you noticed your dress hanging in your closet that you planned to wear tonight. With the sunset slowly turning blue for the night, that burning fire in you started to reignite.

You make your way slowly down the steps with the laundry basket tucked into your side, clearly your excuse to even go down there. The men were circled around the table, music still blaring and the string lights glittering the ceiling. “No no no, so then I told her to stop usin’ her teeth, it-” You cleared your throat and Tommy shut up quickly, turning around to face you. Joel didn’t even bother to look up until they greeted you, much different than earlier now that you were half dressed. His eyes were zeroed on on your body, his nostrils flared and the cards being held in his hands slowly started to bend.

“Don’t mind me, just here to do some laundry before I go to bed.” That was a bold face lie. Joel knew you weren’t going to sleep. He also knew you weren’t down here to do laundry, you hated doing laundry.

“All good, girl. You’re no bother to us.” James said, the one who had been eyeing you since you tiptoed down here.

You opened the dryer to empty it in the laundry basket, bending over more and more with each scoop inside to get clothes out. Joel coughed loudly when he noticed what you were doing and it made you jump, not expecting him to be so obnoxious with it. “You doin’ alright baby? Need another beer?” You ask a little too sweetly and he doesn’t blink once when you meet his gaze after standing up straight, a stupid smirk forming on your lips.

“Sure, f’you wanna get me one.” He grumbled.

You wandered over to the small fridge in the corner with a piece of clothing tucked under your arm and grabbed a beer, walking over to him and cracking it open for him. He leaned to one side to really look at you, noticing that shitty grin plastered all over your face.

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t do nice things for you, baby?” You rhetorically asked and folded the pair of panties you shoved under your arm just a second ago. Everyone's eyes fell onto what little fabric there was of the bejeweled thong that said ‘Angel’ on the front.

Joel was shooting daggers at you and you knew how much you were getting under his skin at this point. You took a seat on his lap and looked at his cards, not once looking at him. “All in” James says as he pushes his chips to the middle and his eyes wander up your chest. James was older than Joel and not that good looking. It wasn’t surprising he took a liking to you since he’s cheated on his wife three times now. The other guys were out and it was just between Joel and James. Ironic.

“You’re bluffin’ you sorry bastard.” Joel chuckles and lays down his cards, straight flush.

James groaned and tossed his cards in the middle and you looked to see a full house. You jump off Joel's lap and bounce up and down cheering for him, genuinely happy he won. What you forgot about was your boobs were also bouncing up and down. “Alright, that’s it. Guys, I’ll be back in a second. Start over without me and don’t you fuckin’ steal any chips from me.” He states and grabs the laundry basket off the ground, your arm in his other hand and drags you up the stairs. Fuck. Too far.

He marches up all the way to your room and tosses you facedown on the bed, panting from anger. “What the fuck was that, little one? Hm?” You don’t move as he rips off your shorts to expose the white panties covering your ass.

“What? I was just having fun, Joel.” You snap back and brush your hair from your face to look at him. His jaw clenched together as he nodded once, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

“Ya know baby, somethin’ just tells me that isn’t the complete truth.“You wanted male attention so bad you were whorin’ yourself around down there in front of anyone who’d look at you for 5 fuckin’ seconds.” His belt was beginning to come undone and you knew what was going to happen. “Joel..baby, please I’m sorry I-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. Stay still. Since I’m such an old man and can’t remember jack shit, count for me baby. If you fuck up, I’ll start over.” He straddles the back of your thighs and moves your panties up out of the way, smacking your ass hard.

“O-one.” A grunt leaves his mouth after you start counting. His big hand comes down again, smacking the same spot, already red. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering at the pain.

“Two-o.” Your voice shutters.

Joel’s hand collides with your ass cheek once more. “You’ll learn one of these times not to be a smart ass to me, baby doll.”

“Fuck, Joel- three.” You can feel the welt starting to form.

You can hear him laughing behind you as he anchors you to the bed more, the pain making your ears ring. Joel spanks you again, the roughest he’s done it yet.

Your mouth drops in agony and tears start to fall down your face.

“F-fou-r.” The silent sobs slowly start to leave your lips.

His other hand comes by your face and ever so gently wipes the tears spilling from your pretty eyes and down your cheeks.

“Cryin’ won’t get you out of this baby girl. You wanted to act like a badass, take the punishment that follows. Got it?”

You couldn’t muster up anything other than, “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? Say it.”

You swallowed harshly and took a deep breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.”

The hot sensation on your ass cheek was spreading all over your body, the sting from his hand cracking your flesh again made you wince, begging for him to stop.

“Ahh-five.” You seemed to have been losing your voice, only able to squeak out the number rattling in your brain.

Instead of cracking you again, Joel rubs where he’s been spanking you and groans.

“Have you learned your lesson you fuckin’ brat? Gonna be a good girl for me now?” He leans down and whispers in your ear.

You lay there still and unable to speak, a small nod was the only way you could answer. Joel reaches in front of your face and clears your vision of your hair and kisses your cheek roughly. “I dunno princess, think I might have to punish you some more.” His evil chuckle vibrated against your cheek as he kissed it again.

Without a single word more, Joel laid over the top of you with your arms pinned against your back and you began to wiggle.

“Take this fuckin’ cock baby. You want attention so bad, so stupid for cock, well here it is. Stay still.” He yanks down your panties and spits on his fingers before shoving his hand between your thighs as you squirm, his fingers starting at your soaking wet cunt all the way back to your asshole.

The pre-cum leaking from the slightly swollen red tip was spread around the head before Joel rammed his cock so far inside your aching entrance. You mule out and he covers your mouth roughly, yanking you against his chest.

“Shut the fuck up, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you. Shut that pretty mouth up before I put it to use.” He growls and starts to thrust inside you, ramming into your cervix in no time. The rough hold on your mouth makes your cries and moans so muffled but just audible enough for Joel to hear.

“So damn wet for me princess, knew you like when I spank ya like that. Such a nasty little thing f’me. Think those assholes downstairs could fuck you like I do?” A rough kiss against your neck makes your eyes roll back and whine out, needing him to split you open from the inside. His calloused hand still covers your mouth and you shake your head in disagreement.

“Use your big girl words baby.” Joel grunts and uncovers your mouth, grabbing your waist roughly and thrusts into you harder.

You whimper and bite your lip and tilt your head back, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that were hungry for you. “No, sir. I don’t think they could ever fuck me the way you do. Your big fucking dick ramming into me and making me scream while you try to fit the whole thing inside me.” You could see your words were getting him somewhere, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth.

He digs his fingers into the skin on your hip more and pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours. Joel was a grunter and wow did it turn you on. His teeth clenched, he moans your name and cusses at the end of it, tossing his head back to keep himself together.

“I would’ve taken you right on that damn poker table and made you suck my cock in front of them if you woulda kept it up baby. You wanna act like a whore in front of ‘em, I’ll treat you like one. Would you’ve wanted to suck my cock with them watchin’?” He asks, pinching your nipple under his work shirt that was stuck to your body.

“I would’ve done whatever you wanted, sir. I promise, sir I will do anything for you.”

He growls and bites your earlobe teasingly before licking it and the shell of your ear.

“You’re a crazy little bitch for me aren’t ya?”

“I-I’m so close sir, fuck don’t stop.” You whine and he shoves your head down into the bed, groaning loudly.

“No baby, bad girls don’t get to cum. You better not or I’ll spank you harder than before. D’you want me to spank you much harder than the last time, angel?” Your body was aching to cum, the mascara you applied hours ago now smeared and running down your cheeks.

“No, sir.” The tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your orgasm just sitting in your stomach wanting to be released all over Joel’s cock.

He groans louder and pushes your head down to keep still while he drives his cock balls deep in you, slowing up as he’s bracing himself for the end of his fun.

Joel gives your ass a few more good smacks and you have to squeeze your legs shut to keep yourself from cumming. He wasn’t fair for making you hold it, he liked seeing you helpless.

“Gonna fill this little pussy full so you don’t forget who you belong to, you got that?” His hand wraps around your throat as he engulfs you in his arms, fucking you sloppy until he’s panting like a dog in your ear. “Fuck baby doll-fuck- I’m gonna-a cum-ah-fuc-” Joel’s hot stream shoots inside you as he grunts loudly, grabbing a handful of your hair in the midst of fucking his load deep in your hole.

Your pussy squelches and you can feel your clit just screaming to get some attention, some relief. Joel's breaths regulate once more and he lays there behind you kissing your shoulder and back softly. “Maybe next time you won’t be a brat huh?” He chuckles and gets up to go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for you. He cleans you up and your eyes get heavy, sleep creeping up on you. Joel kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, “Get some rest baby. I’ll be back up soon. Maybe I’ll let you cum then.”

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emmyrosee · 2 months

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emmy imagine doing a fit check for suna on your lunch break or something and he’s just hyping you up the whole time (in his own way) while he’s on break from practice 😕🫶🏻

(inspired by me doing a fit check like literally rn while I wait for my friend to show up LOL)

IM GONNA LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE-

You just prop your phone on the bureau, fix your hair a little bit and press the FaceTime button, smoothing your shirt and taking a deep breath in. The phone rings a few times, and you chew on your lip, fiddle with your fingers, suddenly very shy about showing your boyfriend your outfit, and-

“WHOOOOOO!” A loud cheer echos through the room, and you giggle and cover your face. “That’s my baby! WOOF! Hell yeah dawg! Gimme a twirl. C’mon. Spin for me, doll.”

You do, and he winces dramatically, “ah! My heart! Give it back!”

“Rinnie!” You snort, beaming happily at him. “You really love it?”

“Love it? Baby-“ he leans towards the microphone, “I’m being tame right now because Washio is right next to me.” He turns the camera slightly to show just a frame of Washio, who’s pinching his eyes.

“Thank you,” a gruff voice answers over the line.

“Hi, washio!”

“Yeah. Hey.”

Rintaro turns the camera back to him, “alright you looked to long, my turn again.” He smirks as you kick your shoe up to show him, and he licks his lips slightly, “you look really good, baby. Wanna give that big forehead a kiss.”

“MY FOREHEAD? Have you seen yours!” You scoff.

He rolls his eyes, “this isn’t about me. Go have fun with your friends before you ruin the mood.”

“Okay, stink,” you hum, grabbing the camera. “I love you so much.”

“Love you more, smelly.” He brings the camera to his lips for a dramatic kiss, and you roll your eyes as you place a small peck to the camera. “That was hot.”

“Sure was, rinnie.”

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carolmunson · 1 month

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almost fell into that hole in your life.

orange colored sky set list.

older!modern!eddie x thirties!reader summary: ficlet. you haven't been acting like yourself these days and eddie notices. unfortunately for you, eddie can't help but wanna make you feel better. tw: implied depressed reader, alcohol mention. implied praise kink if you squint really hard? still 18+ tho! songspiration: black balloon | the goo goo dolls

Eddie doesn't like it when things are too quiet, it makes him hear the static in his brain -- gets too aware. He can hear his eyes blink, the sound of his breath, so when you've been clammed up on the couch all night on your phone he can't help but start to make noise.

"Babe," he says from the kitchen, "Do you want me to make quesadillas or something? I have some shredded chicken I wanted to use up."

"Hm," you respond. He barely hears it, padding his way over in his 'house slides' that you like to tease him about. Such an old man.

"I was thinking quesadillas and I can make some margs, would you like that?" he asks, standing at the end of the couch. The way you're laying on your side, eyes glazed over, is enough to let him know that you haven't heard a word he's said for the last hour. Just scrolling with with a glassy look, numbing yourself ten times over.

"Peach," he says, albiet little sharply, "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm, no way, that's wild," you respond, a zombie in his midst -- replying just to reply, to fake like you're hearing him. Eddie bites his tongue and then his cheeks to sting the frustration out.

"Hey," he says again, ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your chenille blanket covered thigh, "You hearin' me?"

You finally look up and see his face and the world around you comes into view. In your trance, the world outside had become night, the TV was off, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you plopped yourself under Eddie's blanket on the sectional in his livingroom.

"Yeah," you squeak out, heart racing because you can tell he's disappointed, "Y-yeah I'm hearing you."

"Then what did I just say, huh?" he doesn't sound mad, or accusatory. Worse, he sounds disheartened. And even worse of worse, he sounds worried.

"Um...it was about um, you were asking about food," you try to answer confidently, and you know it was food adjacent, but you aren't sure.

"Do you want me to make quesadillas?" he asks again, "I have some chicken I wanna use up and I got all the stuff for 'em."

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah that sounds nice."

"You wanna come help me?" he asks, "I can make us some drinks while we work."

"Uh," you start, that familiar pull tugging in your chest -- laying down feels good, getting lost back in your phone will feel better. It's so comfortable to hide under his chenille blanket and tune out. It feels better like that.

"Please?" You hesitate again, but you're not fast enough to redirect Eddie's attention, and it's then that he catches it in your eyes. The ache. He comes around the the front of the couch to sit in the divot of your thighs and chest, hand moving from your thigh to your shoulder. "What's goin' on?" his low voice twangs at your chest.

"Nothing," you urge, but your voice is too high and so are your eye brows. He doesn't believe you for a second.

"I don't like when you lie to me, peach," he confesses, "Don't lie to me, please."

"Psh, okay dad," you tease, trying to lighten the mood while you get up.

"I'm not kidding with you," Eddie's timbre keeps you in place, "I'm not playing around, babe. What's goin' on with you? You've been -- y'know -- you've been really I dunno -- inward this week. I'm missin' you."

"I'm okay," you urge again, but now you're too quiet. You don't mean it. He raises his brows and blinks at you in disbelief.

"I promise, I'm okay," you continue, "I'll be okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're not making a great case for yourself." "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lawyer," you joke again. He doesn't buy it.

"You're sad, baby," he tells you, reaching up to hold your cheek in his palm, "Why can't you just tell me? It's okay that you're sad."

"I'm not!" you try to say cheerily again, but the words get stuck in yout throat -- eyes stinging with wetness after hours of being open.

"I'm not sad," you say breathlessly, choking on the lie while a tear sneaks its way onto your lash line.

"Oh, sugar," he coos while you try to tread the water of your feelings -- flailing to keep your head above the pain in your chest.

"No, no, I'm okay -- I'm fine!" but you're starting to cry now and it kills him. Before you know it, he's made his way under the chenille blanket with you, nose to nose.

"Hey, hey, it's okay if you're not fine," he coaches you through your deep breaths while you try to guide yourself out of a full blown sob, "You can tell me. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

"I'm sorry," your voice becoming a wraith of itself.

"Don't be sorry," he presses himself against you, enough so that you can feel the pressure of him and the pressure of the back of the couch on both sides, "Just talk to me."

"I don't..." you shrug, "I don't have anything to say."

"Just sad?" he asks, you feel an arm snake around you between your back and the the couch, pressing your chest to his. You nod, it feels pathetic, but you're cornered now and there's no use in arguing with someone who was born to win every argument he's ever had.

"Yeah," you mumble weakly, "Yeah, I'm sad. Think I'm more than sad."

He nods, his demeanor softening to something gentle -- heart reaching out to yours with caution like you'll run away, "Yeah, honey I can tell. You really haven't been actin' like yourself these days."

"I just don't wanna bother you," you confess, the brick coming off your chest, "I always get over it, I don't wanna like -- bum you out if it's not like...if it's not a big deal."

"I don't care if it's a big deal or a little deal," his heart bleeds for you while he speaks, "I don't care if you're gonna be over it in fiteen minutes. When you're hurtin' like this -- babe you gotta tell me. You gotta talk to me. Or else how're we gonna make this work?"

"It's just not important."

Eddie can tell that you mean it when you say it; he's never felt more frustrated with whoever convinced you that this was true.

"It's super important to me," he encourages, "Your shit is like, top of my list babe."

"Top of your list?" you crack a weak smile.

"You think the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep isn't on the top of my priority list?"

"Okay, well now you're doing to much, Ed," your face scrunches in the way that he loves, not letting you totally get out of his hold yet while you try to squirm away.

"Hey, look at me, before you get up," he cups your cheek again, gently, your eyes meeting his brown ones. Eddie leans in for a kiss, a soft reminder that he's not going anywhere anytime soon -- not that you'd want him to. Not with lips like that.

When you break away, his nose nuzzles yours, coasting up to press another gentle kiss on the center of your forehead. Long and intentional, warm enough to get you to close your eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he assures, "It's okay if you're not, but -- I gotcha until you're feelin' better, hm?"

You nod, sniffling snottily and wiping your wet cheek.

"I am ordering us quesadillas," he whispers, stealing another kiss from you, "Because if you're going to rot on my couch, I'm gonna make you rot next to me."

"We're rotting!" you cheer half heartedly, pouting when he gets up to get his phone for take out. When he finishes, he holds his hand out and you sheepishly put your hand in his.

Eddie curls bounce when he shakes his head, "Peach, you know what I'm asking for."

"No," you frown, "I need it to rot."

"Peach...please?" it's more of a warning than a question, and you slide your phone into his hand. He doesn't check it, but he knows that if you don't have it 'locked away' in his sweats pocket for a while you'll just end up zoning out the same way you did before.

"Thanks, sugar," he smirks, "You're so good."

Your cheeks burn at the priase, rolling your eyes with a grin that cracks against your features, "Don't. We're not doing anything sexy."

"Yeah I know," he shrugs innocently, finding his way next to you again, "But when you smile like that, who am I to deny you a lil' somethin'?"

He dims the lights in the open space from the remote on the coffee table, settling in while you make yourself comfortable in his side. Eddie keeps you close on nights like this, when he knows you're on unsteady ground. You're still quiet, but the start of another Twilight Zone marathon keeps you more alert than before. With steady breaths you start to relax in what he'd deem a healthier way than before, and the quiet doesn't make his brain too fuzzy this time around. In the still of the living room and the hum of Rod Serlings voice, he feels you squeeze his hand -- a silent thank you. He doesn't think he could be any more in love.

#orange colored sky #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie munson x you #ocs!eddie #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie musnon #eddie munson fanfiction

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redeyerhaenyra · 3 months

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What sex toys would T141 use?

Summary: title :) headcanons of what sex toys I think t141 would use

Warnings: heavy smut! various elaborate sex toys, bit of electric shock play in Johnny's, phone sex, brief mention of anal beads, Simon being too hard on himself, Simon being touched starved, Simon being.. Simon, let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Getting this out to feed you all as I'm STILL working on that Simon smut I promised and it's only at 2k words 😭

Kyle Garrick

Kyle is a confident man

He knows what he likes, he isn't afraid to buy and try new toys

He has some anal beads for himself, doesn't use them all the time

Only when he's having an extra special night to himself✨️

He has one of those clear fleshlights

Kyle's a bit of a voyeur he likes watching himself 😏

Also has an extensive lube collection

Like, different kinds

Flavoured, tingly, aphrodisiac, ect

He'll change what lube he uses depending on his mood :P

Johnny Mactavish

Oh Johnny

Johnny Johnny Johnny

Look up the word "horny" in the dictionary a picture of this man's face comes up

He spends his hard earned military paycheck on those vibrating, self thrusting fleshlights with fucking handles on the outside

Also has a vibrating cock ring that will occasionally send little electric shocks through his cock :D

Like to think he also has just a plain dildo

Sometimes to use on himself, sometimes to suck on whilst he's fucking the fleshlight

Again, look up the phrase "oral fixation" there's a picture of his goddamn face

He also has one of those fake pussies and some fake silicone boobies for the same reason

He wants to suckle a clit or a boob in his mouth can you blame him?

He also will push the fake tits together and fuck them :P

The only reason THE ONLY REASON he doesn't take all these on deployment with him is that they wouldn't fit in his bag

Simon Riley

Poor Simon

He half thinks he doesn't deserve self pleasure

And half is kinda clueless when it comes to it other than the classic fist with a bit of spit as lube

He has fantasies about getting a generic fleshlight but he's also like

"Who would I need that I have my hands"

Like cmon Simon treat yourself 😭

Has thought about full on 300 quid sex dolls

The ones that are literally just. A silicone person

He'd never actually get one but occasionally he's so touched starved and needing to hold someone close he thinks about genuinely purchasing one 😭

John Price

I like to think John's taste in sex toys is... refined

Posh, even

I know it's so cliche to say John is old-fashioned but I truly believe he wouldn't ever dream of using modern male sex toys

They are "barbaric", he says, "teaches young men to only value a woman's body for sex".

No no, John won't be partaking in anything like that

He, a gentleman, uses phone-sex lines

To physically get off he'll use his fist, but he'll almost never do it without calling a.. "woman of the night".. and seducing her with his dulcet tones

He considers it a failure if the fine lady he's speaking with isn't also enjoying herself just as much as he

Really gets him going to be the source of someone else's, a professional pleasurers, pleasure

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sc0tters · 5 months

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Night Before Christmas | Quinn Hughes

summary: as you struggled to fall asleep on christmas eve quinn had something to help solve your problem.

kinkmas: day five (cockwarming)

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v.

word count: 1.87k

authors note: I am truly in love with this one! It’s much softer than my usual smuts but as I’ve been watching love actually whilst writing it we needed a bit of a breather for all that is kinkmas!

Holiday parties with the Hughes family had quickly become one of your favourite things.

Dating Quinn for the last three years meant that you were always his plus one for this event like any other. It also meant that you were officially in the stage where his family had moved on from questioning you to teasing Quinn about how he’s kept you for so long. Christmas Eve dinner had gone down a charm as everyone enjoyed seeing the Hughes boys back together. Of course though as the entire family watched you get dragged off by Quinn’s younger cousins who wanted to show you their newest dolls that have been added to their collections. Your moved presence came with questions of when he’d be putting a ring on your finger, and when you’d be having a family.

Quinn‘s blush as the questions came made the entire family laugh as they truly believed that the eldest son of Ellen and Jim had found his person, hitting the jackpot of love. It seemed that every time you or Quinn would reach for one another someone in his family was watching. The way your hand found itself in his hair during dinner softly scratching the nape of his neck as you smiled listening to whatever he had to say.

You treated his words like honey that you just wanted to soak up as you sat there in awe. Sure the family thought Quinn was wrapped around your finger but you were just as wrapped around his. They all thought you were his sweet innocent girlfriend who could do no wrong as you would bat your eyelashes at Quinn. But if only they knew the side of you that only came out at the hands of Quinn.

As the majority of the house lay fast asleep you couldn’t help it as you stared at the alarm clock next to your side of the bed. The starlight barely shone through the curtains reminding you of how late it was and Quinn’s soft snores weren’t helping as your mind went rampant struggling to find a moment of calm. You were brought back to your childhood when you were an excited kid desperate to catch Santa in the act of delivering presents into your stocking.

A loud sigh left your lips as you rolled over facing your boyfriend “Quinn?” You frowned bringing your leg up to brush your foot along his calf in a lousy attempt to wake him up.

Yet as you were met with silence you tried once more “Quinn.” Your voice was in a sing song tone that made Quinn smile as his eyes remained shut.

You took it as defeat huffing as you rolled back over deciding to try to catch some sleep before his cousins would inevitably come and wake you both up “c’mere.” Quinn mumbled reaching out to place his hands on your sides pulling you closer to him.

It resulted in a squeal leaving your lips “thought I’d surprise you.” He smirked kissing your earlobe making you roll over back to face him.

With the extra space between you both now being nothing you could barely make out Quinn’s features “now what’s wrong?” His tone was softer as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

The gesture alone was enough to make you melt “I can’t sleep.” You pouted making him laugh “it’s not funny!” You complained as Quinn leaned over to peck your lips.

As your mood didn’t improve it made him sigh “okay I’m sorry.” The hockey player apologised as he propped his head up by his elbow “what’s keeping you up?” The question frustrated you as it was one of those things that if you knew you would have sorted out.

You shrugged as you mimicked the way he leaned against his hand “I don’t know.” You shrugged making him roll his eyes “so you woke me up for that?” His sarcasm was missed by you as you frowned.

It made you drop to your pillow again “I’m sorry.” You were quick to stare at the ceiling “babe seriously what’s wrong?” Quinn groaned wanting to hear what plagued your mind.

A yawn left his lips at the worst time “just go back to sleep.” You mumbled shaking your head as Quinn reached for your hand pulling you back onto your side “what’s on your mind pretty girl?” He asked letting you see how concern coated his face when his fingers traced figures on your hip.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “I feel off.” You announced acknowledging how weird it sounded “were they too much tonight?” Quinn knew that Jack and Luke had been teasing you about how Ellen’s friends called you Quinn’s wife at the beginning of the night.

His concern made you smile “no Quinn.” You shook your head “I’ll just go to sleep.” You sighed hearing footsteps in the hallway that shared the wall with your room “feel better already with you here.” You smiled pecking his lips as you lied to him.

In truth you still felt off but you now felt guilty keeping Quinn up “just want you to hold me.” You added as you rolled over backing yourself up against his body “you sure?” Quinn kissed your cheek as his legs laced between yours when his arms wrapped around your waist.

Quinn’s body was warm under the thick blankets that were layered on top of you both “like it when you do this.” You nuzzled your head into your pillow as your eyes latched onto the red lights of the alarm clock “sweet dreams princess.” Quinn grumbled into your ear sending shivers through your body.

Even as you two went silent Quinn knew you hadn’t gone to sleep as your breathing remained stable leaving you awake “baby?” You called out feeling Quinn’s hand travel down your stomach but were ultimately met with silence as his hand went below the strings of your shorts stopping when his tips of his fingers found your clit.

A cough left your lips as you couldn’t tell what he was trying to do “you trust me?” Quinn’s voice was soft as his breath fanned against the shell of your ear “o-of c-co-course.” You stammered as his fingers settled into a more consistent rhythm against your clit in a clockwise motion.

You moved your head back against his chest as you felt your body grow calm against him “gonna make you feel so good.” He cooed making you smile as his movements were slow enough to lull you to sleep.

The beds creaks were muffled by the sheer amount of blankets that you had over your bed and Quinn had never been more grateful about your tendencies to get cold when you slept “please Q.” You whispered like you were worried the house would have been alerted to what was going on if you spoke any louder.

His lips only response was to nip at your neck as you kept your hair in a bun “don’t be shy love.” Quinn’s smirk pressed against your skin making you feel all that more weaker as you grew weak to his touch.

Every minute of this was something Quinn wanted to soak in, using all of his self restraint to not turn the lights on as the intimacy of this moment “let the house hear how I make you feel.” For a man who was once so tired Quinn was now wide awake as his only objective was making you feel good.

Your wetness pooled his desires as his fingers sped up taking you even closer to your release making near in audible grunts and gasps leave your lips as you had one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping at your bedsheets. Quinn’s cock grew hard pressing against your back and with each pretty sound that came from your plump lips “please don’t stop.” You begged whimpering as your body began to shake.

Tears formed in your eyes as it seemed like whatever block within your mind was coming undone with the mere movement of his fingers “I’m gon-” your eyes fluttered as you found your words getting caught in your throat.

Clothes stuck to your body as sweat formed on your body making you feel slick in places that went beyond your cunt “is this what you wanted from me when you woke me up?” Quinn kissed your neck as you knowing that this was better than any dream he had been in the middle of before you stopped it “no Q.” You called out as you felt your head growing heavy “don’t lie to me.” He warned sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your ear that was accessorised by your earrings.

Of course he knew you well, well enough to know that you were bullshitting him “just wanted to feel you.” You mewled arching your back from against him as you knew you could never fully come without Quinn’s cock inside of you.

It was like music to his ears as he began to slow his fingers “feel me?” The hockey player taunted clicking his tongue as you cried feeling over stimulated “n-n-no!” You sobbed as Quinn removed his fingers entirely from your shorts bringing them up to your lips.

A laugh left his lips “taste yourself for me.” Quinn tapped them against your lower lip making your jaw go slack listening to his requests “now you don’t go whine when I’m going to give you what you really want.” A shifting noise came from behind you making your eyebrows raise as you grew confused.

You didn’t have the chance to ask him as he pulled your flannel shorts down “don’t worry princess.” Quinn laughed as he shook his head “always gonna give you what you want.” Your questions were answered as his cock slid up your slit bringing delicate gasps from your lips once more.

He throbbed against you “Q.” You clenched around the head of his cock as he refused to let himself bottom out against your cunt “I’ll be good to you.” Quinn scoffed as his fingers pinched at your hips as your walls finally hugged his cock.

But as his hips remained still even after you adjusted to him you couldn’t help but grow confused “you feel better now?” Quinn asked yawning again as he grew sleepy.

Your clenching cunt was loosening as you too grew tired “thank you Quinny.” You smiled against your pillow “I’ll keep you like this for the evening.” His words were soft as his body melted against yours making you two some perfect statue.

A whimper fell from your lips as you thought about it “I love you.” Your words were muffled as a heavy sleep took over you making Quinn smile “love you too my sweet girl.” The hockey player cooed kissing your head once more before he too joined you in the state of slumber totally unaware of the moment the clock on your table hit midnight. Not only did it bring on the new day but it almost brought sounds of jingle bells that warmed the streets making anyone who was awake feel like they were dreaming too.

#ambers kinkmas 2023 #Quinn Hughes imagines #Quinn Hughes smuts #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

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st4rfckerz · 7 months

Text

give into us | gf!sam monroe x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, praise, mild knife play, pet names (nothing crazy), dry humping, choking, loss of virginity, breeding kink

summary: you're home alone and you receive a call from an anonymous caller.

it was a brisk october night. the kind where you curl up with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and a scary movie. so that's exactly what you do. you choose to binge a few of your favorite horror movies because you have the whole night to yourself.

you put the old vhs tape into the vcr and start the movie. as the movie began to play, the phone unexpectedly started to ring. the shrill ringing of the old landline phone broke the peaceful mood set by the flickering old tv.

"who could that even be?" you think to yourself before heading to the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“hello?” you answered the phone apprehensively. there's a lengthy pause before an unsettling, breathless voice answers back.

"who is this?" the voice questions. you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

"who are you trying to reach?" you ask, a little perplexed that the person who called you was inquiring who he called.

a slight chuckle was heard on the other end. the caller was so excited to talk with you.

"do you really have to guess who I'm trying to reach?" his tone became very charming. this was the kind of voice that could woo people into trusting him "i've been trying to reach you all night." you hear a hint of desperation.

"ok, come on, who is this?" you ask sternly. you look at your surroundings, not seeing anyone around.

“who i am isn't important, sweetheart. what you need is a little companionship - i can help with that.” he paused for a moment, the silence stretching between the both of you.

"you just gotta want me.” your body froze at the sound of his words, like though a switch had been flipped, in a way that you were unable to articulate.

"you're crazy." you scoff. you hang up the phone and return to your movie.

"freak." you mutter to yourself.

after a few moments, the phone rings again.

“you keep calling me crazy yet, you’re the one that’s talking to the voice on the other end of this phone.” you could hear the snicker in his voice.

"and you're the one that won't leave me alone." you snap.

"how can i leave you alone when you're wearing those adorable little shorts?"

you pause for a second and gaze down at your baby pink shorts. whoever this was has been clearly watching you. in a fit of panic, you rush to the kitchen counter and grab a knife.

“your little knife isn't gonna save you doll, might want to think of something a little better,” he taunted, a dark chuckle following soon after. the sound made your skin crawl and you held the phone tightly, fighting the urge to hang up.

"why don't you just show yourself huh? don't be a coward." you can feel yourself getting more scared and nervous.

“show myself?” his voice shifted, any sign of cockiness gone and replaced with a cold, calculating tone. “you keep asking questions like that and you’ll soon find out just how brave i really am.”

you hang up the phone once more and start dialing 911. the lights suddenly go out. you take a breath to settle your nerves, but the moment you do, a hand is placed around your mouth. your chest is securely wrapped by powerful hands, but you immediately wriggle free and proceed to flee through the back door.

running seems to clear the fog around your brain, the adrenaline coursing through your body helping you overcome the shock of what just happened. you hear footsteps running after you, gaining on you - getting closer and closer with each passing second.

your body slams into the concrete, your head slamming against the hard surface. as stars form and dance at the edge of your vision, you can faintly see a dark figure looming over you.

the mysterious figure holds you down on the ground, but you manage to escape. soon after, you sprint up to your room, lock the door, and hide inside your closet. he slowly began following you, his pace was casual but his movements were calculated and precise. you were his to play with now.

you hear the running footsteps come to a stop right outside your bedroom door. you hold your breath as you hear the handle of your bedroom door rattle and move, someone trying to open it. you stay completely still you can hear footsteps pacing outside your door - whoever this was, is standing out there waiting for you.

after a brief pause, the door to your bedroom crashes open, and the shadowy, cloaked figure slowly makes its way into your room before stopping in front of the closet door.

you keep your hand pressed to your mouth, the silence and stillness in the room giving you goosebumps. you hold your breath as tight as you can, your eyes locked on the closet door.

suddenly the closet door flies open.

"boo."

the masked man pulls you forward and holds you tightly against his body. his chest was flushed against your back. your muffled screams are covered by a big gloved hand. you struggle to fight back, but your hands are flying everywhere, hitting everything all at once. you become even more panicked when you catch the glint of a knife out of the corner of your eye.

“shhh i only want to talk. can we at least speak without you screaming?" his voice was low and husky now, but calm. too calm. it was unsettling.

while his hand is still covering your mouth, you regain your composure as you feel the knife lightly graze your throat.

"good girl," his voice a low purr against your skin.

the glove-clad hand gently pulls away from your mouth and clamps around your throat.

the combination of the cold knife against your skin, hand squeezing your throat, and the adrenaline surge brought on by your fear sent a strange wave of pleasure down to your core, causing you to subconsciously clench your thighs.

"we can either have a civil conversation or things can go a completely different direction, it's your choice." you can feel the knife dragging gently as it moves from your neck to the valley of your breasts. as he's drinking in your presence, he notices your thighs tightly pressed together.

"does this excite you pretty girl?" the knife moves further down your body and slips under your underwear. you shudder slightly at the sensation of the cold blade pressing against your warm cunt. you were fighting it, you were going against your own desire to feel something for him, but he knew. he could sense it.

"fuck you." you say through gritted teeth.

you received no more than a slight head tilt from the masked assailant before being thrown onto your bed and pinned down, completely unable to move. your vision returns in a haze, and as you gain your bearings once more, your eyes lock onto the face of your aggressor. his hand is still wrapped tightly around your neck, but you do manage to move your free hand to remove his mask.

the person you thought would never hurt you appears in your vision as your closest friend.

"sam?" your eyes well up in tears. you couldn't believe this.

"no, no, no, no." you sob. it was impossible to accept what was happening. you would never think he would do something so insane after everything you and sam went through.

“why’d you have to go making things so difficult?” he asks, his voice dropping from the menacing tone he was using to the casual, friendly tone he often spoke in.

"you know i just wanted us to be together.”

"sam you're being crazy right now, ok? now please let me go-" you plead.

"just listen to me!" sam yells, shaking you harshly. your lips quickly clamp shut as you look up at him in absolute horror.

“i-i feel like you’re fighting something inside. you’re scared but underneath that fear, you’re feeling something. can't you feel it?" sam's eyes were wild and blown wide. the only thing you could make sense of amid all the craziness that raced through your head was that he wanted you.

how were you so blind? how could you miss it all these years of knowing him? you were utterly unaware of how he treated you, how he looked at you as though you were the only person on the planet.

"i'm so sorry sam...i just didn't know." tears begin spilling out your eyes. his face softens, his grip loosening around your neck. he touches the tears on your face, wiping them away with his thumb.

“it’s ok, it’s just us now," the intensity in his eyes was almost other worldly. his stare seemed to pull her in like a magnet. "i just didn't want you to have to see me like this, but i need you to understand how much we need each other." sam spoke to you in a sugary tone that made the hairs on your arms stand up.

"i understand but..." you trail off. "this isn't right."

“yes, it is. don’t you feel how right it is? don’t fight this, it’s always been meant to be.” he moves his face close to yours, his free hand lightly brushing your cheek. "i'd do anything for you, i'd kill for you." his vacant stare almost gave you the impression that it had already been executed.

you lock your gaze on his, your eyes pleading.

for a moment, something about his face softens, a sadness passing through his features. then he leans forward, his lips pressing against yours.

it’s the most gentle kiss you’ve ever known, making your body melt against him as if he weren't just chasing you through your house in a mask with a knife.

"sam, i can't..." you speak against his lips. he pulls back from the kiss, his fingers still brushing against your face.

“don’t make this harder than it has to be. give into us. just be mine, you and me together. please.” his smile falls, and he frowns as he watches your expression.

you stare up at him and think for a while.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you never had feelings for sam. despite the fact that you fantasized about being together and even about him taking your virginity, you never imagined it would get this serious.

this time, when his lips find yours, it isn’t gentle and tender. he devours you in a kiss that says ‘we are one’, his lips moving feverishly against yours as he pulls you against him, making you moan into the kiss.

“there you go.” he murmurs, his voice breathy with desire. heat spreads through your body as you press closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body and pulling you close. his hands find their way to your hair, pulling your head closer to his as he bites your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth.

your hips buck up to meet his, the newfound friction spreading a heat across your body. his mouth pulls away from yours as he lets out a deep groan, his eyes filled with desire.

his breath comes in panting heaves, his eyes moving down your body.

"you don't know what you do to me." his hand move over your body, caressing every inch of you with love and desire.

his fingers find their way underneath your shirt, making you press closer to him for even more friction.

your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the feeling of sam's prominent bulge rocking against your aching core.

sam's eyes are full of hunger and desire, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he locks his gaze with yours.

a moment passes between you and then his lips find yours once more, devouring your flesh as his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth. you let out a loud moan, gripping his body tight as he continues to kiss you passionately.

sam pulls away again, his eyes searching yours before he speaks, "i need you." his voice a raspy whisper as his eyes drink in the sight of your body.

his mouth finds yours once more, his hands moving to your shorts, roughly yanking them off along with your underwear. his hands grip you on either side of your waist, the heat in his grip only intensifying as you feel him lean forwards, pulling you closer into his body.

you hear sam fumble with his pants before you feel his tip graze against your slick folds before sliding in.

"sam...it hurts," you whine, feeling a sharp sting as he thrusted into your cunt. sam was so big that you didn't even need to see his cock to figure out how big he was. you could just feel it.

"just take it baby, you'll be ok." he says breathlessly. with each stroke, sam becomes more attuned to your body's responses, adjusting his movements to bring you pleasure while respecting your boundaries. the pain begins to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and an intoxicating mix of pleasure and vulnerability. your whimpers of discomfort are slowly replaced by moans of pleasure, surrendering yourself to the desires you never thought you would explore.

"so perfect," his voice is hushed as he continues to whisper into your ear, his lips close to your neck.

"n-need more..." you mewl. the feeling in your body is completely new. given the fact that you had touched yourself countless times before, this sensation was you ever experienced. you can just feel how much he loves and adores you - it almost seems as if you two were made for each other.

"i know you do sweet girl," he whispers, his tongue finding the space between your neck and your ear, licking and sucking the skin with passion. "and i'll give it to you, all of it. you're mine and only mine." you want this, you yearn for more of his touch, and he wants to give it to you.

you begin bucking your hips up to meet his harsh thrusts. sam revels in your reactions, his own sadistic pleasure fueling the intensity of the encounter.

“that’s it, baby, you're doing so good.” he runs a hand along your back, the skin under your shirt growing warm and tingly.

sam's touch intensifies, his thumb pressing firmly against your sensitive clit with an almost aggressive force. the friction between his thumb and your throbbing bundle of nerves sends waves of both pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that elusive climax. every sensation seems to be intensified, amplified by the dark aura that surrounds you.

"sam- m'gonna cum..." you whimper. your fingers grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan from him.

"come on baby, cum on my cock...make it yours." his breathing was shallow, and his speech was harsh. he places his head on your shoulder. his whimpers and moans grew stronger, indicating that his orgasm was also nearing.

and then, it happens. a surge of pleasure floods your senses, radiating from your core and rippling through your entire being. the world fades away as you succumb to the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, your cries of delight mingling with the echoes of the room.

sam's movements becoming slow as a low, guttural groan escapes his lips. you feel his thrust become weaker, the fervent grip on your skin tightening for a brief moment. the sound of his release echoes through the room, his cum spills inside you, warmth combining with the heat of your own desires. a primal satisfaction overtakes him, leaving him momentarily spent.

as the ripples of pleasure subside, you find yourself breathless, spent, and oddly satisfied. sam collapses on top of you, fatigue weighing heavily upon him, and he lays his head upon your chest. you can feel his warm breath against your skin, hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

the lines that once divided you into predator and prey are now blurred, and you start to see him as more than just a threatening presence, a constant reminder of the thrilling taboo that has bound you both together.

#nai's works ୨୧ #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #scream #scream franchise #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader

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lust444men · 2 months

Note

hiiiii i love your blog so much😭😭😭💕💕💕 I absolutely love this mechanic of sending requests🤭🤭

🌶 ex!hobie like an enemies to lover to enemies to lovers again omg does that make sense?😭

anyways have a gorgeous day/night <33 love u!💋

a/n finally starting this. I hope I do it justice for you, doll! I tried my best. I luv this idea sm! I fr and lowk did the plot of 10 things I hate ab you...warnings: praise, small degrading? mocking, p n v, slightly cunty hobie ngl, fem!reader, manhandling, slight dumbification? tad bit angsty, language obvi, angry/make-up sex

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

you and hobie had a very difficult relationship. you hated each other all through secondary school, despised each other when you chose the same college, but by second year, you guys were dating. And in love. Or, so you thought. You had been dating each other for a little over eight months, and it was great. until you overheard his mates talking amongst themselves in the halls a few weeks ago.

"ya' owe Spike £50! he made 'er fall in love."

"But i' lasted more than a month! Tha' means I get £70." and other chatter, but by then your ears were ringing so loud you couldn't hear them.

you've never felt your heart drop deeper than that. since then, you had been avoiding Hobie like the damn plague. Every text, call, ignoring him in the halls, lessons. He didn't exist to you no more. you should've known, really. it was hobie. he didn't care about others' feelings. you thought he was in love with you...even though he never said those words, you thought the way he looked at you..spoke to you..touched you, held all his feelings. Guess you were fucking wrong.

you were walking home from college, your heart still heavy weeks later. you felt betrayed. but who were you to think Hobie could be a genuine, nice, committed person?

he's the same guy who threw a dictionary at your head in year 10.

you got dragged out your thoughts by someone following behind you, and you immediately recognised the thumping boots on the pavement.

"Oi! Wai' up." Hobie barked, his lanky stature making him next to you in no time. "The fuck is going on wit' you? Ya've been ignoring me fo' weeks!" He said, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"You noticed? Colour me surprised." You scoffed, not even looking at him, despite feeling his eyes bore into you. his face scrunched, eyes narrowing.

"A'ight, the fuck 'as gotten you into such a foul mood?" He asked curtly. You ignored him, letting out an incredulous huff. He really doesn't know what he did? What a dick.

You walked up the steps of your house, hearing him quickly follow you as you unlocked the door. Nobody was home, that'd be good if you get into a screaming match with hobie. You left the door open for him, knowing he'd just let himself in either way.

"Ya gonna fuckin' speak to me, or what?" He scoffed, slamming the door shut with his foot before approaching you. You couldn't help yourself.

"How much money did you get?" you spun round, throwing your bag to the armchair, along with your keys as you stared at him. You saw his face twitch, anger leaving, confusion and...worry replacing it.

"Wha'? What're you talkin' 'bout?" He asked, brows pinching together. "How much money did you get when you bet that you could get me to date you?" You reiterated, extending it so his simple brain could click. You watch his face fall, and it almost made you laugh at his dumbfounded face.

"W-wait — baby, it's not wha' you think." He panicked, reaching out for you and winced when you slapped his hands away.

"Oh, fuck off with that. I don't wanna hear it. I was just a bet to you, all this time? Everything we ever did, every kiss, every touch, every fuck, every date — a lie." You rambled, your emotions getting the better of you, eyes filling with tears as you stared at him, gesturing wildly.

"Shh shh, ay — calm down -"

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

"Calm down then." You glared at him. "You're a fucking joke. I wish we never dated. It was all a fucking bet to you! I was just some extra cash!" You yelled.

"Not anymore." His voice raised above yours, startling you. He never shouts at you — not really. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? Not anymore?" You hissed, your brows furrowing together as your nose scrunched. "Just stop fuckin' talking! You're making no sense, Hobart, you're literally so fuckin' st—" you got rudely cut off by his lips smashing against yours, his hands on your cheeks.

You tried your hardest not to melt into him, the two sides of your head wrestling. You haven't felt his kisses in weeks, you missed them. but on the other hand, it's probably fake. that gave you enough courage to put your hands flat against his chest and shove him away, shaking your head as you wiped your lips, as if you were getting rid of his kiss.

"No, no! You don't get to kiss me and —..and think everything's okay! It's not! You're a selfish, self centered, rude, arrogant cunt. These last eight months were a waste of my time. I could've been fucking alot hotter in this time." Your words flew out your mouth before you even had time to truly consider them, but honestly? he deserved that. you watched him stare at you, his eyes darkening but his breathing surprisingly calm.

He moved towards you, you stepped back, he stepped forward, until your back hit the wall. his hand gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to him as you let out a quiet grunt.

"Tha' so? Jus' a big ol' waste of time for ya?" He asked lowly, tilting his head at you as his stature blocked out anything else.

"Was just a bet to you," you shrugged. "so, why you throwin' a fit?" you watch him run his tongue along the inside of his cheek, glancing off briefly before his eyes dragged back to you.

"Lemme tell you sum, doll. You're real fuckin' stupid." his lips crashed back against yours in an aggressive, but needy kiss. His hand on your jaw drifted through your hair to the back of your head, forcing you close to him. you kiss back absentmindedly, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, balling his shirt in your hand and yanking him flush against you, making him groan.

His free hand trailed down, fumbling with your jean button and pulling them down to your mid thigh before he pulled away from the kiss. He gripped your hair, not tightly, but enough to maneuver you to the sofa, bending you over the arm rest. you gasp, your hands bracing yourself and attempting to push yourself off the armrest, only to be pushed back down by Hobie's large, calloused hand between your shoulder blades.

"Stay down. Lemme do my shit." He huffed, sounding fed up as he practically ripped off your panties. you shivered at the cool air, feeling his hands pull down the rest of your jeans, spreading your legs.

"Ya' could've fucked hotter, y'say? Can hotter make you cum fifteen times in one night?" He scoffed, grabbing a handful of your ass, making you huff.

"Oh, fuck off with that already. It happened one time!" you tilted your head back at him, watching him fumble with his belt, dipping his hand into his briefs.

"Don' look at me like tha'. Might jus' hit tha' score again." his breath hitched as he swiped his tip through your folds, making your eyes flutter shut. Three weeks and no sex, and definitely not in the mood to touch yourself, it's safe to say you're pretty pent up.

"Please," you whisper, feeling his tip repeatedly hit your clit, making you jolt or twitch each time.

"Please, wha'? Please forgive me for bein' a miscommunicating bitch? Please forgive me for not talking to you? Please fuck me?" He mocked, watching as you glare at him and grind your teeth.

"The last one." You hissed. You had no reason to apologise! who the fuck did he think he is?

"Ah, righ'. The impor'an' one." He lined himself up with your entrance, tucking his pierced bottom lip in his teeth, sinking into you with a throaty groan from himself and a whimper from you.

"Fuck. I fuckin' missed you. You n this pussy s'bad." He drawled, already pussy drunk. You clawed at the sofa, feeling his hand force your back to arch as he set a steady pace, watching him disappear inside you, the view hypnotising.

"Oh, fuck. Hobie — Hobie!" you squealed, hands fumbling to grip onto something - settling on a nearby cushion. The armrest of the sofa was right at your lower abdomen, pushing on the bulge of him, heightening the pleasure. He speeds up, a bruising grip on your hips, huffy growls spilling his mouth as he watched how your ass jiggled everytime his hips snapped against yours.

"Yeahh, tha's wha' I thought. Ya' jus' needed to get dumb on my dick again, didncha?" He mockingly cooed, slapping your ass.

"Sh-shut the fuck up n jus' fuck me." You scoffed, leaning back to hold his arm, purposefully digging your nails into his forearm alot harder than needed. He grabbed your arm, pinning it to your back.

"Oh? Still talkin' tha' talk, eh?" he smirked, making his strokes slower but harder and deeper, watching how your eyes flutter before rolling to the back of your head. he grinned.

"oh shiit. feels s'good - fuck." you whined, burying your face into the sofa. he hummed, running his hands over your waist.

"Yeah, I know. I fuck ya' dumb, don' I?" He rhetorically asked, not expecting much of an answer as his thrusts finally sped back up, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making your legs shake. "Hobie - shit. can I come? please?" You whined, pushing your hips to meet his with a loud gasp. Fuck, your head was spinning. You swear you could see white spots in your closed eyes.

"C'mon. Be a good girl, y'got it. Tha'sss it. Fuck, yeah, cum all over this dick, sweetheart." He coaxed you through your well pent up orgasm, your loud moans bouncing off the walls.

"Fuck, look at her. Always coverin' me in her mess." He hummed, pulling out of you and watching your release drip down. He softly grabbed you, sliding you up the sofa so you were now sat on his lap, too dazed to even feel his still hard cock resting just below your wet, throbbing cunt. You were panting, unfocused until you felt his finger tap your cheek.

"Cmon. I gotta talk t'ya'." He murmured, his other hand rubbing your back. "M'listening." He sucked in a harsh breath.

"Yes, you started as a bet," He began, feeling your body tense. "But, but. You're not anymore. It was selfish, yes, i know. And I regre' i' everyday, n' 'specially not tellin' you 'bout it. I fell in love with you. I am in love with you. Which is why 'it went on for so long'. It got real. m' infatuated wit' ya, my luv." He explained, his perfect face scrunched up as he thought carefully. you could cry. he just fucked your brains out, now he's giving you a love confession.

"I love you, sweetheart." He added in a soft whisper, glancing down at you. You guys hadn't said i love you yet. But he just did. After fucking your brains out. Romantic. You leant up, sniffling softly as you placed a quick kiss to his lips."You promise?"

"I pinky fuckin' swear it. cross my heart, hope to die." He kissed you lovingly, his hand on your cheek as he did so, the other hand trailing up your thigh, his thumb just brushing over your sensitive clit. you broke the kiss, gasping softly.

"what're you doin'?" you asked, feeling him rub small circles onto your clit, making your hands grip his shoulders.

"we got fourteen more ta go, baby."

#christi's posts #‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆lust444men #christi's list #hobie brown smut #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #hobie brown my love #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #astv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #astv miles #miles morales

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golden-cherry · 1 year

Text

deal - cl16 (4/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Charles and you pay Joris a visit that raises more questions than it answers.

Warnings: Charles is distant, angst (idk if it counts), fluff, Google translated French

Word Count: 3.4k

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A/N: I'm running on two liters of coffee and three Red Bulls. thank you for being so patient. hope you enjoy it! love y'all.

Charles doesn't make a sound, but the way his slender fingers clench around the worn steering wheel, he doesn't have to. His knuckles stand out white - surely deep imprints of his rings have already bored into the gray leather - and he clenches his jaw.

Whoever called him has chased away the empathetic, gentle Charles you've come to know in little more than twelve hours and who, in your limited opinion, doesn't deserve to feel that way. The person sitting on the driver's side of your car stares at the road in front of you with an icy stare. His movements to steer the car are skillful but stiff like a doll's, and his breathing is so shallow it looks like he's stopped altogether. He even turned off the radio after a few meters, so there's nothing between you but this strange silence.

Most of all you would like to comfort him, support him, do something to cheer him up, but Charles won't let you see his cards. You don't know if he wants to, if he's even the type to be comforted or distracted. All you know is that the phone call has driven away his good, playful mood. His expression is blank, emotionless, and you don't know what to do - if you should do anything - which is why you just sit quietly next to him.

You're immensely grateful that Charles has shown you his secret place and tried to cheer you up. And you would only too gladly return this kind gesture. But you don't. You don't want to drive his mood even lower with a pitiful attempt. You sit silently next to him, making yourself very small so that he doesn't notice you.

Charles steers the car after some time through a narrow alley into a backyard, where it comes to a stop in a marked parking space. He turns off the engine, takes the key out of the ignition, and gets out without a word.

Briefly, you're unsure whether to follow him - after all, you can't assess what he needs and wants right now - but when he stops at the hood and takes a quick glance back, you exhale in relief. Apparently he hasn't forgotten that you're still there, too.

You follow him, and when you stop at a large wooden door, he places his ringed index finger on a bell with the name "Trouche" written on it. For a brief moment you wait and nervously you tap from one foot to the other, not knowing what is waiting for you behind the door, while Charles stands beside you like a statue. Out of the corner of your eye, you eye him inconspicuously.

His jaw is clenched and at his neck his vein is pulsating slightly and he hasn't stopped breathing, which of course pleases you very much. But his gaze is fixed on the door, he doesn't even seem to blink.

The call seems to have thrown him very much off course.

A muffled whirring sounds and your roommate pushes the door open.

The hallway of the house where Joris lives isn't particularly wide, so Charles climbs the stairs ahead of you. His hands hang down by his sides, but with his thumbs he tries to turn the rings on his fingers. A nervous habit? Or a coping mechanism for stress? Whatever it is, it's the only thing that makes him human right now.

You look down at your feet to keep from tripping, and nearly slam into him when he stops abruptly in front of an apartment door. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he knocks on the door.

"Joris, good to see you," Charles says cheerfully as his buddy opens the door. His voice is bright and friendly, the complete opposite of what you just witnessed on the drive. "Can we come in?"

While Joris, who doesn't seem at all surprised that you two are suddenly standing in front of his door, takes a step aside so you can enter, you can't take your eyes off Charles. What the hell is he doing? Why is he suddenly acting so differently? How does he manage to change his mood like that from one second to the next? Faking his good mood? Does he perhaps have multiple personalities? Or has he put the call behind him and doesn't want to think about it anymore?

"Go ahead and sit down," Joris says, disappearing into the kitchen. "I'll just get something to drink."

His apartment is definitely bigger than yours. The living room, which is done in simple shades of white, beige, and black, is bigger than your whole apartment by itself. As you look out the window behind the couch, you can even see the Côte d'Azur. How much is he paying for this view?

Charles sits down on the comfortable looking couch and smiles at you. "Sit down before Joris commandeers the only other comfortable place in this apartment and you have to sit on one of those uncomfortable chairs there." With a nod, he points to the chairs around the large dining table in the corner.

You look at him uncertainly. Apparently he's talking to you again, and even in front of you he seems to be keeping up the facade that he's fine. Maybe he really does have multiple personalities.

When you don't move, he tilts his head and smiles. But something is wrong with it. It doesn't reach his eyes. "I won't bite."

"I'm not so sure about that," you counter him honestly, but - with enough distance - you sit down next to him on the couch anyway, which is actually as comfortable as it looks. You feel his gaze on you, but don't dare to return it. You let your fingers slide over the soft fabric. "Is everything all right?"

Charles' smile is carved on his face, as it doesn't move a millimeter. The corners of his mouth remain at the exact same height as you look at him as he answers you. "Everything's fine." He glances briefly at your hands folded in your lap, then looks to Joris, who joins you.

He places three Coke cans on the glass table in front of you, which is certainly more expensive than all the furniture in your home. And he even puts them on the glass without a coaster. For that alone, you would have gotten in trouble at your parents' house. "To what do I owe the honor of your impromptu visit?"

Your roommate leans back and rests an arm on the back of the couch. "What do you think?" He glances at you, your gaze fixed firmly on the cans, and then back at his best friend. "Guess."

Joris grabs a can of Coke - a ring of condensation has collected on the glass - and takes a big gulp, surely to stall for time before he starts explaining. Charles doesn't take his eyes off him. "As I explained to you, I rented the place out so it wouldn't sit empty for months, and there are expenses that need to be paid. Garbage pickup and maintenance of the house, for example." He puts the can back on the table.

Charles raises an eyebrow. "You know that kind of thing's not a problem for me, Joris."

Nervously, his buddy runs a hand through his hair, "I know."

Charles breathes in and out deeply. His cheerful facade seems to be crumbling. Apparently, he's not satisfied with his buddy's answer. He turns his head and looks at you, "How much did you pay per month?"

Actually, you don't want to be a part of this conversation because, until now, it was irrelevant to you why he rented the apartment. All that mattered to you was that he rented it. And he rented it to you. And now you've slipped into this stupid situation, not wanting to answer this question at all, not wanting to get Joris into even more shit, but Charles' piercing gaze leaves you no room to breathe.

You swallow. "Two thousand euros."

Your quick glance at Joris blows your fib, because Charles doesn't believe a word you say. But he says nothing, merely looks at you before propping his elbows on his knees and looking back to Joris. "You're going to pay her back. Every cent of it. And the lease will be terminated."

Is Charles trying to kick you out? After you were still discussing living together this morning? What was that about the next bridge in Monte Carlo?

Your (still) roommate looks at you. "The apartment is bought and paid off. You don't have to pay rent, just the running costs like electricity and water. But we share those, of course. After all, we live there together now." You hope no one notices as you breathe a sigh of relief. His gaze wanders back to Joris. "And you and I are going to have another talk about trust soon. It's not okay for you to do something like this without my consent."

Joris nods slightly. "I'm really sorry, man. I really didn't have any bad intentions." He looks to you. "And I'm sorry I put you in such a stupid situation. It must have been scary to have Charles standing in the apartment all of a sudden."

You smile gently at him. "That's okay. I got a meal as compensation, so it's all good."

"After you almost hit me over the head with a newspaper," Charles replies.

As you look at him, you notice something has changed in his face. His smile reaches his eyes and his teeth are no longer clenched. All of a sudden he looks much more relaxed, which is why you dare to counter again. "You were going to call the police."

His grin widens even more and he leans back again, this time clasping his hands behind his head. "You were standing in my apartment, after all."

Since you don't have a reasonable counterargument to that - after all, it is indeed his apartment - you grab one of the countless couch cushions and throw it in his face. Unfortunately, he actually catches it and laughs as he throws it back at you. "I think you would have had a better chance with the newspaper."

Before you can throw more pillows at him, Joris speaks up. "Before you tear my whole place apart - what do you think about lunch?"

Charles glances at his watch. "Since when do you eat lunch before three in the afternoon?"

Joris gets up from his seat and shrugs. "Think of it as an apology for the whole situation."

"The way you cook, I'd call it more of an attempted murder, not an apology." Charles leans in your direction. "He can't cook at all. He tried to cook pasta once, but didn't know you had to turn on the stove to do it," he whispers with a grin, knowing Joris can hear him anyway.

"Haha." Joris puts his hands on his hips. "Well, I didn't say I was cooking. Actually, I was hoping you would be cooking."

Charles gets up from the couch and walks over to his buddy. "Then all the more reason it's not an apology." The two men stand facing each other, Charles a few inches taller. "But you told me the other day that you got yourself a new camera. Maybe I can borrow it sometime."

The two look at each other before grinning and falling into each other's arms. All you hear is "Je suis désolé" i’m sorry and " Oublie ça, mon pote“ forget it, buddy before they pat each other on the back - like real bros - and then pull away from each other. There's something comforting about the way the two can't seem to stay mad at each other for long. Something comforting.

"All right," Charles says, putting his arm around Jori's shoulder. "Let's see what your fridge has in store, then." The two take two steps forward toward the kitchen before stopping. Your roommate turns to you. "You coming?"

You nod at him. "I'll be right behind you." The two of them leave the room and you turn around on the couch so you can look out the window again.

Monaco is beautiful and you are immensely grateful that you can continue to stay here. That Charles is letting you stay with him, and even rent-free, which is of course very convenient for you. If Joris should really pay you back the money, which in itself is only meant nicely by Charles, then you would be able to stay in Monaco even longer without a fixed income. And then you would also have more time to find a good job.

A huge stone falls from your heart. You don't have to look for a bridge to live under. You won't be kicked out of your apartment within the next few weeks because you can't pay the rent anymore. You don't have to take a job as a dog sitter so you don't starve.

You take a deep breath and only then realize that a few tears are running down your cheek. Relief fills you and for the longest time you see a silver lining on the horizon.

You couldn't be more grateful to Charles for that.

You wipe away the tears with the sleeve of your sweater before getting up from the couch and following the two of them. There are many pictures on the walls in the hallway, some of which you recognize from Charles' phone. He is in many of them, and so are some of his friends. Pictures of birthdays, vacations, and parties that seem to have been celebrated as if there were no tomorrow. Slowly, you walk down the hall, looking closely at each picture as the men talk in the kitchen.

"Elle a déjà appelé deux fois aujourd'hui“, Charles says coolly. she called twice today

Abruptly, you stop. She? Twice? Then the person who called Charles on the trip today is the same one from this morning who woke him up.

" Que voulait-elle?“ what did she want?

" Que je rentre chez moi.“ come home. You hear Charles exhale. " Je lui ai pourtant dit que je ne viendrais pas. Mais apparemment, elle ne comprend pas." wasn’t coming – she doesn't understand

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire?" what do you mean?

"Je lui ai dit que j'allais vivre ailleurs pour le moment, mais qu'elle pouvait continuer à vivre dans l'appartement si elle le souhaitait jusqu'à ce qu'elle trouve quelque chose de nouveau. Mais elle n'arrête pas de m'appeler et de m'envoyer des SMS pour me demander où je suis et quand je vais rentrer.“ live somewhere else – continue – apartment – keeps calling – coming home

" Avez-vous déjà pensé à la mettre à la porte?" Jori's tone sounds serious. "Je sais que cela vous mettrait mal à l'aise, mais peut-être que vous vous sentirez mieux.“ uncomfortable – feel better

"Je ne sais pas“, Charles replies. i don’t know. "Je pense que je dois m'asseoir avec elle à nouveau et mettre les choses au clair."

"Tu lui as parlé de Y/N?“ When Joris mentions your name, you stop breathing.

"Non. Le fait que je vive avec elle ne la regarde pas non plus." no – none of her business.

As a phone rings, you awaken from your rigidity. You hear some footsteps, and suddenly Joris is standing in front of you with his cell phone in his hand. As he walks past you, you pretend to look at a picture.

Who were they talking about just now? An ex-girlfriend of Charles'? Is that why he can't go to his other apartment? Because he doesn't want to live with her?

"There you are." Charles pokes his head out of the doorway and smiles at you. You feel caught, though there's nothing in his expression to suggest he knows you heard them. You smile back. "Come on. I need help, and you're certainly a bigger help than Mister Can't-even-cook-noodles."

Wordlessly, you follow him into the kitchen, where he has already spread out some things on the kitchen counter. You see potatoes, peppers, and there's already some salmon on a cutting board. "How can I help?"

Charles positions himself at the kitchen island and puts a pan on the stove. "Can you peel the potatoes, please? Peeler's already there, you put the potatoes -" he pulls out a saucepan from a drawer and places it on the opposite side of the island - "in here."

You raise your hand to your forehead and salute him. "All right, chef." After washing your hands briefly, you grab the potatoes and peeler and face Charles. You pick up a potato and start peeling.

"What kind of music are you listening to right now?" asks Charles as he works on the salmon filet in front of him.

You shrug your shoulders. "Pretty much anything. My latest playlist tends to be a little quieter, a lot of classical music. But it helps me when I need to concentrate."

"Do you want to turn it on? I'm a big fan of classical music," he counters, setting the salmon aside before moving on to the peppers.

You wipe your hands briefly on a kitchen towel and pull your phone out of your pocket. Finding the playlist doesn't take long-after all, it's the one you heard last-and as soon as the tone sounds, you set your phone down on the countertop between you.

"I don't know anyone who likes classical music either." You put the first potato in the crockpot. "Everyone always tells me it's too boring. Like that, with no lyrics."

Charles shakes his head. "Absolute bullshit, if you ask me. I don't know any song that has lyrics that can be as deep and emotional as a harmonizing orchestra."

You smile. "I agree." When there's silence between you for a moment, you take a chance. "Thank you, by the way. For sticking up for me just now."

Now it's Charles' turn to shrug. "You don't have to thank me for that. I think you were treated unfairly, and I wanted to set the record straight."

"You didn't have to do that, though." The next potato loses its skin. "After all, Joris is your best friend."

"And you're my friend. Just because Joris and I are close doesn't mean he gets to treat you that way. And even if you weren't my friend, I would have stood up for you."

He says the word friend so lightly, so easily, as if he's been saying it for years and not as if you've only known each other for a short time. And most of all, he seems to mean it, too. It amazes you how quickly you were able to form an emotional bond with him within hours. As if he had bewitched you.

But you have no problem with that. Charles is kind and gracious and a good man. You're glad you can count him as a friend.

The music suddenly stops as your cell phone begins to vibrate. You take one look at the screen and freeze.

It's him again.

Spellbound, you stare at the phone, hoping you're imagining it, but it rings and the vibration against the countertop is so loud it's definitely real. A cold shiver chases down your spine. Can't he finally leave you alone?

You reach for the phone to push the call away.

But Charles is faster.

And before you know it, he presses the green button to take the call.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #carlos sainz jr #Charles Leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #Charles Leclerc deal

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 1 year

Text

So, I don't know where the hell this came from but I did something.

TW: NSFW content, Friends with benefits, Unstablished relationship, Vaginal penetration

Needy, needy boys.

He's always been taken for a playboy. He comes over in the middle of the night, gets what he wants and then you'll never hear of him...

...until he's in the mood again. Then he comes back with a straight face like nothing happened, everything's fine and he's not treating you like some kind of doll he only plays with whenever he feels like it. And you're stupid, so fucking stupid as your arms are always open, welcoming him into your little corner of solitude.

But after a while, something happens. His smiles are more genuine, his embrace feels warmer than before and most importantly, when you wake up in the morning he's there, already up, staring at your face with a somewhat unknown look.

Then he's gone again. His absence lasts longer than usual. You don't know if you should text him. Would you come off as clingy? This is probably a bad idea. If he wanted to hear from you he would have at least given you a ring. Are you done? Is he abandoning you for someone else? Someone prettier, with bigger eyes and a smaller waist... Doubts and insecurities fill your head, days turn Into months, hope gets lost in your sleepless nights until that night, that one night that makes you feel everything and nothing at the same time.

After receiving that one text "I'm outside", you run to the door to see if you aren't dreaming and this isn't just a figment of your imagination, and there he is, standing in front of you, looking all different. Good different or bad? You can't really tell, and you know what? You don't feel like putting much thought to it either.

He slams his lips onto yours, your clothes are taken, torn apart laying on the floor, you somehow find your way into the shower, the cold water makes you gasp and cling onto him even more. You're soaked under the water but you don't feel clean, body tainted with lust and desire.

Things are happening fast but it's not the same anymore. There's no mind games this time cause he's so needy and been dying out of starvation. Instead of his teeth sinking in your skin it's his kisses, penetrating your flesh, your blood, your soul. He's kissing your soul and you're holding him with a deathly grip, never having enough. Nobody talks. It's just meaningless sinful sounds and kisses, kisses, kisses. He's so needily passionate and it's beautiful; making you feel whole, significant. His lips trap your bottom one and suck it in. He's breathing loudly, you've been kissing for quite a while now but every time you try to part he doesn't let you. It's like he wants to die, drown in your kisses, or perhaps he finds them more addicting than oxygen.

It won't be long till you feel your release approaching and he feels it just as precisely as you, you've literally become one now and he knows your body like the back of his hand. He puts his skills into use and thrusts rapidly, taking his frustration out on your cunt and you're fine with it. He's been deeper than this before but it's never felt this intimate. All his actions are rushed and you know he's not going somewhere; he's just suddenly so needy and you adore it already.

You're shaking, he's shaking and with another thrust, you're gone. Your body is still caged in his strong arms, but your soul has fallen into the land of euphoria. Everything feels numb, the water that's now marking your skin red, the pain in your back, your chest, your heart. It's just him, him and you're in love, glad that he's in love too. You scream as he keeps thrusting through your orgasm and he moans in your mouth, loudly. It's needy, so needy, but so stunning that you can't complain.

When you come down from your high, he finally parts away. You're both panting and desperate for air but there's something miraculously. You look at each other and he's eyes are talking, it's proof that he wants, you needs you, can't get by without you. Looking at this messed up man under the cruel whips of hot water, you find yourself in love. Ah what a beautiful feeling it is, to be able to love and to feel loved. He's with you now, you won't be waiting for him anymore, he'll always be here, that's what you're thinking.

But the next morning he's gone, and this time for good; because you made him feel something,

That he doesn't deserve you.

DAZAI, Ranpo, NIKOLAI, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI, Kuroo, SUNA, Osamu, Shinazugawa, UZUI, GOJO, Fushiguro, Geto, EREN, MELLO, Vanitas

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fionarara · 11 months

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+ cherry bomb .

+ GOJŌ SATORU x READER .

+ T W ⇾ 18+ only . smut . sugar daddy!gojo . dilf!gojo . f!reader . implied ddlg dynamics . adult age gap (the amount is your interpretation) . aquaphilia aka underwater sex . praise . a bit of a baby bimbo reader so um dacryphilia, no rly, like i’m talking actual tears, yeah . gojou has a dumb joke (or two) . mention of divorce (not yours) and of gojo’s child (also not yours) . slight size kink if you squint . i feel like both flaunted capitalism and vapid self-indulgence needs a tag here ?? we be explorin dark kink of all kinds on this here blog, right? (｡>ω<｡) . reader has a few nicknames . no beta . and lastly, probably goes without saying but daddy kink, i repeat, daddy kink . oyasumi ✌︎ .

+ A N ⇾ um, istg i totally did not mean to post this dilf!gojo on actual father’s day, h-whoa? but the universe just always has my back i swear, an amazing coincidence as i only realized right before posting, and somehow it feels *symbolic* ?? - this is for the sugar daddy collab by @sleepysnk, ty for letting me join last minute summer ♡

+ W C ⇾ circa 5,500

Zz Zz Zz.

Within your skirt a vibration kicks off.

The ringing of a phone tucked into the waistband against your tummy chimes out its soft little tune where you withdraw it to peek at the screen. Flashing vibrantly across its surface reads ‘DD Gojo’, and the smile unveiling on your face shines as brightly as the reflected device in your palm.

From where you stand on the sidewalk in elegant heels, all dolled up for the occasion, the twilight of dusk is visible on the horizon. The vision of picturesque dark multi-colored hues harmonize nicely with the wafting scent of warm pastries and tea in the air nearby, out from the cafe of the luxury shopping center you’ve been waiting in front of: Gojo’s favorite meeting spot. Whereby inevitably, has become yours as well.

A place you have both frequented together before, where he has showered you with many gifts, many times over, treasured in both of your memories. Cherished adventures built here upon wining and dining at the finest restaurants, playing dress up at the shops amongst extravagance, the cavalcade of glittering jewels and lavish garments–all the things you deserve as far as he’s concerned. He is of the belief that whatever you receive should be nothing but the best the world could ever offer, or at least his wallet, he figures.

And since life has been really tough on him lately–divorce is a bitch, the entire ongoing legal process has been one drawn out migraine–you and your overall companionship are so highly prized, not only in his day-to-day, but because of the new glow you’ve supplied his life. Especially during the last several months of regularly seeing one another after the separation from his marriage.

Unabashed in his absolute fondness for you, he has deemed you his little crème de la crème angel.

You pick up the jingling phone in your hand.

Gojo Satoru seems to be in an especially exuberant and silly mood when his voice forces a notable husky tone, answering your greeting with a fun-loving tease, a low murmur on the other end of the call.

“Ring-ding-dong—is baby ready for my dong, sweets?” He finds himself hilarious, goofy, a laugh ripping out of his throat with audacity, clearly and thoroughly enjoying his own terrible joke.

Wow. There’s that classic on-a-whim, lively, larger-than-life bluntness that comes along with Gojo’s Sagittarius energy you have come to know well: he’s innately playful and comedic, fun, loud, has got a charmingly sharp tongue with no filter—it can sometimes come back to bite him in the ass if he’s not careful—and all of that is blanketed by a sort of fiery sense of passion for the things he loves.

The fact remains that his way of being has always been able to find a kind of carefree humor within you, something so inexplicable. He brings out in you a sense of total ease or lightness you weren’t even sure you were capable of. A kind of untapped, unfettered joy no one has ever been able to touch in you before…

So you’re halfway snickering at him now, amused, but with full-blown sarcasm you reply, “Ha–ha, Satoru, you’re so classy…” then you’re truly giggling, “...just shuddup and get over here already.” You try to restrain the crack of a too-wide smile from spreading across your cheeks, but fail, gloriously.

So you give in to it. Deciding to oblige him, you press the mic of the phone closer to your lips with a hand cupped over your mouth, shielding your next spoken words while you avert your head downward in a play of secrecy. It’s almost a whisper when you respond.

“But…yes, I think that…just maybe, I am ready for it. Got it?”

He’s unable to actually see the minxy raise of your brow shown on your face, but the gesture is not lost on him from the tone in your voice. He hears it loud and clear.

“Jeesus, baby, I’m comin’, I’m comin’...”, the subtle rise of anticipation within him giddy and excitable. "Listen, I’m almost there. My GPS says I’m two minutes away.”

Late afternoon air has you rubbing away chilly goosebumps alive on your skin, particularly your upper arms, to bring you warmth. “Ok, good. Please hurry, it’s getting nippy out.”

“Oh?” Here it comes… “Mm, ya better have nipples out…see you soon.” The sound of a bold chuckle is distorted by the phone speaker before it’s cut off by a prompt click. He disconnected the call in that way.

Already, it is your second humored eye-roll of the evening from his cheeky Gojo-behavior and you haven’t even seen him yet.

Your chest is lighter because of it.

The shopping bags in your grasp shift from two hands into one, your free hand thumbing to find the golden credit card Gojo lent you in the pocket of your jacket. Assuring yourself that it’s still there is important.

Over a month ago, he had broken the news of how meetups between the two of you would soon become more of a challenge, due to court and custody hearings surrounding the finalization of his divorce. You’d be spending a considerable amount of time apart, he’d said. It would be longer than usual, by a whole month, and offered to grant you some form of consolation in return. So the very next day, an express-shipped credit card appeared at your doorstep in the fine afternoon with a letter enclosed. In it, he expressed that you were to use it and shop to your little heart’s content. The only deal was that you would hand it back upon the arrival of this date.

The car that pulls up to double park along the curbside beside you is, without a doubt, the most expensive car you will have ever ridden. It’s new. Gojo had mentioned it last week, making the purchase to lift his spirits and also as celebration for the court case he’d won against his ex. They’d granted him equal joint custody of their child. Actually, his final stop prior to fetching you this evening had been dropping off his baby daughter.

The door swings open on its own, remotely controlled by electronics. In view and resting on the front seat is a tatty teddy bear belonging to his child that was forgotten.

“Oops, lemme move that for you.” Somehow the sight of this tiny plush toy in his large hand brings about the sweetest rush in you for him. The stuffed animal is laid to rest onto the back seat where you also note a hollow purple baby bottle leaking a dribble of spilt milk from its nipple and onto the cushion.

Nineties grunge-rock plays soft on the radio when you climb in. The air is filled with a sweet and peppery, woodsy scent, one you recognize immediately–it’s him, his comforting cologne so greatly missed, only making you that much more aware of just how profound the ache has truly been for this moment to be by his side.

Crawling towards him, you pelt your eager arms around his neck, a way that communicates it has felt like an eternity apart. Both of you have a greater sense of it now, from being in the other’s presence. You can hardly keep your exhilaration in check, not with the soft squeals you let loose on his shoulder. For a moment, together you melt, breathing into each other.

It hangs in the air of the moment as you embrace.

The weight of the wait.

He then cradles you deeper, pulling you into an assertive kiss so welcoming, so sloppy with intention, it’s as if he’s blissfully unconcerned with how messy it is because, finally, you’re here. Letting you know it’s been far too long for him when he’s matting your cheeks with numerous pecks and taking in the scent of your hair.

Withdrawing to observe you, his eyes alight with radiance at the full sight of you, your energy. “God, I almost forgot just how stunning you are. Look at you! Just…incredible.”

The praise washes over you and after exchanging a few more greeting words, of how you’ve longed to see each other, he shifts the car gear into drive.

Buildings whip across the dark sunset and late dusk settles in. The spectacle of nightfall on this ride, of the city through the windshield, excites him enough to ignite a sudden curious stir in his pants. Maybe it’s the prospect of what night can bring with you along after so much distance that has his dick twitch at the thought alone.

And with that, his hand is creeping over to your lap. It should be almost comical when you believe for the quickest moment that his approaching hand would be innocent. One only of affection, to caress you, a gentle expression only in missing you…

But consequently, their energy becomes different—turn into those fingers, the kind you know well that are wanting, possessive. And being able to even think another thought is lost on you before he is squeezing at the thickest part of your inner thigh then slipping under your skirt.

“Satoruuu…wait…” you swat his arm with a light tap, dissuading him from getting too distracted. It’s happened once or twice before he’s lost control of the wheel when attempting something as naughty as this, but it is half-hearted when you breathily urge, “…pay…pay attention to the road…”

Not a moment later, out from the speakers the bass booms more loudly, the volume amplifying higher by the second where the music thumps heavy throughout your body. You locate the outlandish crystal-eyed culprit and his thumb pressing the ‘+ volume up’ button on the steering wheel.

Not only does he have the music blasted, but has the gall to flash a cutesy grin of mischief at you, a most sinful and impish face. That expression is followed up with a playful mocking yell, where the holler of his voice competes and cuts through the music.

“HUH, baby?-! WHAT? I can't hear you!” he teases, then carries on anyway with the slide of his fingers between your pressed thighs. It’s difficult for you not to part them a smidge while the electric feel of his three fingers reaches for your clothed cunt. They press flat against your mound at the first touch, then begin to fondle lightly at the grooves of your pussy, tracing the outer shape of it with his fingertips.

Having some restraint here had been your aim, but tonight you seem to be failing plenty at not completely succumbing to his whimsical charm–it's just been so long since you’ve been near him–you’d almost forgotten how magnetic his presence truly is.

Attempting to keep your desire hidden, you try stifling the puff of air that escapes your throat, turning your head away towards the window, but it is futile. On full display to him now is how unable you are to withstand his spellbinding touch, and he’d spotted it. That little starved expression tells Gojo how badly you’re fiending, it has him lowering the radio, the amplitude of the loud song descending and funneling out of the small space, volume all the way down so he can very clearly hear what his defiance has wrought on you.

Listening to your tiny constrained moans sends heat straight through his abdomen. You do not want to be condoning any of this while he’s driving, but unfortunately for your willpower, you act on instinct when you begin pawing desperately at the muscular forearm connected to strong fingers massaging over the wet spot of your panties.

“Yeahh…you like this, huh? Knew it.”

But, in a moment too soon, he is cut off by an abrupt swerve of the car and you gasp.

“Shit–” he grips steadfast onto the wheel, gaining composure of the vehicle.

“...Alright, alright, you were right. Let’s save this.” Punctuating the final word with one reassuring pat down onto your pussy, it's honestly more like a gentle spank.

You’re pouting, but of course you nod, agree, and settle into the electrically warmed seat produced by the suave leather chair, feeling loosened up.

Safety first.

. + .

The door to Gojo’s opulent estate, only a fraction of what sits on a 22-acre property, welcomes you by the greeting of a polished and suited butler. Warm lighting casts down from the expansive ceiling and it’s the first time this evening you’re able to catch a true glimpse of Gojo’s eyes. They look a bit tired, a tad worn from his recent circumstances, but it is truly a wonder how he can make even a light touch of under-eye bags look sexy.

Walking past the foyer toward the candle-lit living room, you extend him your comfort. Wrapping your arm around the bulk of his bicep, the other palm reaches for the hard pec on his chest to rub soothing circles of understanding.

Here you are at long last, approaching the grand sofa, both of you plopping yourselves atop the plush expanse and seamlessly locking on to one another. He relishes in the beautiful body flush against his.

Encircling his waist with your arms, you find it rather cute in taking note that he is marginally plumper around his middle than before, having developed a more modest weight around his butt and love handles. Though abs of steel still ripple his shirt, the overworked dad you hold in your arms seems to have relaxed a little from the recent stress and you are filled with a sudden pride for him.

A light-hearted joke flickers in your mind of his natural ability to take up space from his energy alone anyway–how you admire it, a part of you secretly wishing you could embody more of that in yourself–but mostly in how you appreciate this bigger physical development in him, because it now means there's a little more of him in the world.

“Shall we toast?” he suggests, so he whips you up a nice pink drink while he sips hard gin on the rocks, leaning back, thighs spread open like an empowered slut.

Curiosity then strikes him when the haul of shopping bags sitting on the floor from your spree earlier this evening catches his eye. “Ooo, lemme me take a peek at what you got.” he sits up and nods, face gleaming.

One by one each item is showcased and he is enthralled by every piece, because of course he is—it’s part of why he adores you, chose you, your keen eye and clear level of taste has always been impeccable, distinct and unique, highly attractive.

Then his heart is increasing in size as you confirm, right here, right now, that those aren’t amongst your only positive qualities when you’re showing him you’d also picked up something for him and had been thoughtful enough to do so. An ornate watch is pulled out of a fresh bag by your delicate hands, that then with a snap is on his wrist, handsome as it glints and refracts in the candlelight of the room.

Your body reaches over the littered items on the elaborate rug, clasping the final shopping bag which houses the bikini you had bought for this reunion by his request.

He whistles at it. “Superb. Model it for me, will you, babe?”

You do. Twirl, shimmy, joke with an exaggerated runway catwalk, giggle, then there’s something visible written on his face and you’re able to anticipate what his next move might be.

Gojo had developed a pension for bestowing you with a few cutesy nicknames in the time spent getting to know you. Amongst his favorites and most frequently used is that of ‘cherrybomb’. Must be a fan of The Runaways, you figured, but it truly came about when, almost exclusively, you began wearing rouge-shade lipsticks in his presence. Perhaps you could make yourself seem a little older, you’d hoped, give yourself a closer touch of sophistication in his world by presenting yourself in such a way.

But mostly he’d donned you with the specific moniker because a smattering of the red tends to end up around the lower half of his dick after he's had his way with you, a faint painted crimson over his pelvis near where it meets the shaft.

You’re halfway through striking a faked model pose when he lifts himself off the couch and approaches. With an index finger so sensual, he presses up into the cushion of your ruby lips, holding tight to your gaze, coaxing you with a query, “So, gonna help daddy feel better now, cherrybomb?"

Then, far into the depths of crystalline aqua you swim, deep into the mesmerizing eyes that lock onto yours and you say nothing; nothing except for an exhale of hot moist vapor releasing onto the firm finger that baits you. The slow lick you give it afterward, dragging your tongue up along the column of his digit, landing at the tip, answers any and all of his questions. He can already feel the swell of blood trickling in to fill up his cock.

The time has come for his hand to guide you through another hallway toward the recently completed construction of a large-scale naturesque onsen the size of a massive pool, installed in the outdoor area beyond the sliding doors. Intending to experience it tonight for the first time was on his agenda, professing his desire to christen the new space with you, right before he glides a magnificent lustered glass door to one side, letting you through.

You step into the open atmosphere: water bedazzled by moonlight, submerged light fixtures softly illuminating a mint-aqua azure-blue glow, steam rising thick as fog. A plethora of tall bamboo trees enclose the surrounding space, a waterfall cascades off a giant boulder just around the bend and beneath your feet and everywhere is an assortment of gorgeous stones varying in shapes, sizes and sorts.

Gojo leans into you from behind when you approach the onsen’s outer edge, planting kisses along your neck. A clean tug at the string of your bikini top by his hand has it flopping off your breasts, exposing them to the crisp night air, amongst the sprinkle of stars hanging in the heavens. Bikini bottoms hit your ankles next and he strips completely, down to his boxers, then to nothing at all. Already he’s rock hard, a cock so upright, it seems it could nearly touch his abs.

A large hand links to yours, leading you down into the inviting water.

"God, you’re tiny next to me." He tells you, loving how much his big build towers your frame, admiring your body from behind as you descend into the blue, bare feet hitting each lowered pebbled step.

Submerging into warmth, it cradles you as you dip in. Vapor floats off the lapping surface where your joined bodies bob together in water, all of your limbs wrapped around him. He wastes not another second longer, gripping you impossibly closer, making out with you, ardently; proving himself to be ever the great multitasker with one hand gripped on your asscheek and another kneading at your breast.

Now the sizzling of your skin isn’t from the heated water alone, for beneath the very surface you simmer for him, a robust flame of aching arousal so unbearable it has you trembling. Shaky and flustered by lust, from how strong hands grope every inch of your body, how his tongue intoxicates you as it rolls fluidly against yours, he senses it all—how overcome you are by need—making him groan with a fire in his belly, as do you, too.

Desire has your spine arching. Legs still grasped to his waist, your ass pops backward as far as it will reach, creating easy access for him where he can trace fingertips along the crack of your ass as a guide, down to the ‘X’ which marks the spot of your slick hole.

Two thick fingers dip up, curl inside you, and plumes of oxygen off your light moans release between whimpers. Like your third eye opening, the instant clarity you receive in understanding how these fingers are able to create such powerful sorcery is made evident now, by his digits making literal magic in you as they fuck you filthy beneath the water.

“Missed you like hell.” He murmurs, then you grip tighter, moaning, sucking a quick bruise on his neck.

Yet all too soon, he notes the angle of his wrist is not ideal, nor the slight pushback from the water. All of it provides much resistance for him to thrust into you at the necessary speed that he knows would truly have you unraveling for him.

A light bulb flicks on in his head.

“Turn for me.” He commands, gentle and true.

In favor of getting you back to the onsen steps without letting you lose arousal, he whips your body around, directing your arms to wind behind his neck, your ankles to wrap around his. With your back meeting his chest, exposed nipples sting wet in the cold bite of the air, wading you through the water. His goal to keep that hot coil of desire burning within you also means his own cravings run high right now, to have you squirming on his fingers from this position, knowing where that button can be pressed upon.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, keep it up for me…” He entices, approvingly, an eager hand reaching from around your hip to the front, massaging over your clit in winding motions of expertise. His game is won when your hips begin to stutter, rocking and chasing for more of his touch and he can sense the steady rhythm of your thighs tensing against his.

Soon, your feet hit the stony steps. Placed on a higher level than him, it gives him reason to bend you over as planned, to hike your ass up above the waterline where it collects just around your thighs. It’s there you are instructed to hold steadfast on the edge of the onsen.

“Good, baby. Just like that.”

He reckons it’s his turn to make you pliant and easy access for himself. From where he stands below, waist deep in water, his face is lined with the entirety of your raw nether-region, anxiously awaiting to eat you out from behind.

But first, the sight of you like this is truly something to behold.

Here is a quick moment of pause for Gojo, caught in admiring the beauty of pearlescent vapors casting heat off of every bit of your skin, dancing upward through the shine of moonbeams contrasted against the darkness.

“Mmm.” There’s a tone of carnal wonder—and just a touch of light playfulness—in his humbled voice. “Your pussy is steaming hot, baby. Literally.”

You whine from the unfavorable lack of contact as he purrs his sweet words. Air is blown over your bare steamy cunt by his lips, cooling it down, watching it clench, eyeing heat vapors disperse around it. Then he gingerly pries the petals of your pussy open, lingers in admiration for another moment longer before finally tugging your thighs backward to strike his face onto the wet folds. He impresses a deep open-mouthed kiss onto it, sucking your pussy slow and deep into his mouth, and you snap—out comes your ungodly cry in ecstasy. He makes it sloppy, purposefully a bit disheveled, all wicked slurps and licks of passion, and a huff from his nose hits your asshole in a stimulating sensation.

The taste of the mineral water mixed with the sweet drip of your cunt thoroughly quenches his thirst for this christening.

Light daddy scruff from his lower face can be felt against you as another slow upward lick nearly grazes your anus. He wants to create a plateau of his tongue stretching across the whole of your pussy, so he’s scooping under to search for your clit and press there, toying with the nub for several long languid beats.

That is until he makes a quicker decision to swap it in favor of shoving his fingers inside you and pump them with force from behind. When you thrust back to help his fingers reach deeper, he already misses his face being trapped and pressed to your cunt, so he moves back to slurping your clit too.

Your head falls forward as you crescendo from tiny whimpers into staccato groans, then sensing him pause for the smallest of moments only to catch a breath where you can feel his rapid draw of air.

He is attuned to when your hips begin gyrating harder onto his sucks, it’s a signal you’re close to your finish. So he doubles down, grabbing hold of your sides in a bruising grip, fingertips digging deep into the flesh of your hips where he forces you tighter onto his face. All that’s left to give is a tiny sting of pain to send you reeling and crying out his name, so his large hand cracks down on an asscheek, several filthy slaps, with the swirl of his tongue still on you.

He alternates, working and circling open your tender hole to motioning down onto pulsating clit-sucks in such perfect rhythm, it’s like the epic beat of a hit song—and in an instant, it must be your favorite tune, because now you’re singing out along with it, belting out with a searing vibrant orgasm that courses through you.

Your elbows and knees wobble, near to collapse, but he’s caught you just in time with a slide of his arm underneath your tummy, holding you up with another hand by your outer thigh.

And you feel entirely supported by him, in many more ways than one.

You’re weakened and topple sweetly into the water, flopping backward into his broad chest. He draws in your back from behind, whispering warmth in your ear. “Daddy’s turn.”

The way your cheeks beam in post-glow daze has him tender-hearted. “Aw, my little cherrybomb…” he brushes away clumped strands of hair plastered to your face, “...like how only I can make you feel?”

Being older than you means he’s more experienced. No one other than Gojo has even remotely had you cumming as hard, so you can't deny his accuracy. You’d never dream of denying it anyway.

“Without question, daddy,” a little raspy voice so sincere, your body twirling in the clear blue liquid to face him outright, telling him point blank, “you’re the only one that has the power to make me feel this good.” Nearly sung like a lullaby off your tongue, you stare up at him with the most earnest eyes.

The sweet innocence of your praise is so astounding it raises his eyelids to widen so greatly until the appearance of the moon’s reflection fully shines in his eyes ; a genuine response to your unwavering devotion. Then it’s gone in a flash, because his eyelids shut when he’s peppering a line of kisses over your forehead and his dick is forcibly throbbing against you.

“Mhm yeah, you feel that?” He sucks on your earlobe, it’s still between lips as his whisper vibrates on the sensitive skin. “Want you bad. Help your daddy out now."

It’s nearly impossible to contain yourself when the all consuming thought and need in this moment is his grown cock in your hand, to supply him with anything and everything that would satisfy him, service him with the utmost amount of pleasure possible it’s as though he would never again know of pain.

Plunging forward and splashing further into the water, you hurl yourself onto him, a hand wrapped around his cock, an arm thrown around his nape. You pull him into another session of sucking one another’s faces, feverish mouths echoing moans into each other while you fist him below the water.

Gradually, the motion pushes him further and further backward until his spine hits an eventual rocky wall, arms-length away from the flow of the waterfall.

Gojo hauls you up by your thighs to wrap over his hips, simply wanting you to feel how hard he is from the outside, skin against skin, tenderly outlining the full protruding length of himself over your folds. Teasing between velvety lips, he’s grinning at how much of your slick can be felt through the water as he rhythmically runs his hard cock to bump up against your clit. Pleasure erupts through you with uncontrollable shuddering, from the remembrance of how unbelievable it could be just to have Gojo rubbing over you, the rush of the hazy memory all comes flooding back to you now.

Your head cannot withstand its own weight any longer, dropping dead into his fragrant shoulder, the scent of his neck driving you to delirium, inducing an almost intolerable desire for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” He chimes, but you are barely able to muffle out an agreement with your mouth muted against his skin. The best you can give is a tiny nod and it feels you’ve mildly blacked-out behind closed lids. “Tell me how much you need it.” He commands.

“I-I…” you start, but it dies in your throat, “...I...I–”

“Come on, baby,” he coos, a little smug, a bit more pride in his request, “I wanna hear it.”

You're at a loss, struggling to form coherent sentences, already helplessly weak from his cock and it's not even inside of you yet.

“...so...s-so bad, please…I–”

A wordless understanding soon emanates between you both, suspended in the air surrounding you. It’s a palpable exchange of etheric empathy. He understands–identifies, since you have never spent this much time apart before and seeping into the gravity of that is also beginning to make him feel dizzied. “That's it…that’s it…you can do it, sweets, you can tell me...” He rocks his taunting hips, hypnotizing your needy hole from the outside with the prodding head of his cock as you try once more to formulate a sensical sentence.

“D-don't think…I've ever…wanted anything–so badly–I-I–”

The more you babble, the harder he throbs.

“Daddy, I just–!” You feel actual tears starting to well up in your eyes, “–missed you so much-!”

An unexpected pang in your chest induces a flood of tears from your lower lash line. It’s only obvious to you now that you’ve been harboring this specific avoided emotion for a while, possibly even weeks. Trying to keep “strong”, convincing yourself you’ve been fine, or shoving down anything that would surface from within you about making the distance a bigger deal than you thought it ought to be.

Feeling so foolish, naive, to be crying with a mix of anguished pleasure for him, you lightly choke on your resistance to all of it, but without any ability to stop it.

He slows, then halts to observe your face, detecting the moisture below your eyes. It catches him by surprise. Concerned for you, he speaks with care.

“Aww, angelll…”

A tear streams down your cheek where he stops it with his lips, kissing it away, and Gojo feels his cock swell harder.

Undeniably horny by your undeniable ache for him.

A hand swipes over your face, shushing you to calm. “Shh…that's alright, okay baby, shh, you did good–so good speaking up for me–letting me know how much you want me…” soothing tingles by gentle scratches of his hands along your back quell you, “...re-laaa-x…shh…that was good enough for me now.”

Your cheeks are burning, born out of the pit of stupidity you feel as it pools in your stomach. Yet still, you continue to tear up, subtle quivering comes in waves over your body and has him offering you more words of comfort.

“...Nnnm…I missed you too, hey, hey–” he cups your face, making sure you’re truly hearing him. “–I did too, I really did…I know, baby, I know…” since you’re already crying, he might as well give you a better reason to, in the only way he knows to make it better, “...missed you somethin fierce…here–lemme show you how much. Come’ere–”

Lining up with your drenched hole, he guides you down onto the smooth stretch of his thick cock and your breath constricts. It has your face contorting from the dizzying nature of it all, denting your nails into his broad back. Gojo’s glimmering eyes connect with yours, reflecting back a shared intensity. Your gazes mirror one another as two pairs of eyelids are drooping together in unison, carefully examining each other’s faces as you adjust to him and he finally bottoms out inside you. But he grants you mere moments before the overwhelming thirst for you is far too irresistible to bear any longer.

He surrenders to the will of his body as if possessed, chasing more of the sweet suck of your cunt in every thrust and now you’re crying from something else entirely. Strong, effortless, determined pumps of his length drive into your core, the way he knows you’ll always end up begging for, although now, no longer does he want to ask that of you.

In this instance, his sole purpose becomes your unspoken bliss, to anticipate your desires without you needing to word them, yearning to spare you any further trace of strain or exertion. He intends to allow you the full sensation of simply craving his strong presence, pistoning into you, to let you relinquish control, entrusting him to tend to every remaining detail of your pleasure.

“Does this make you happier, baby? Hm?” Still carrying you, he turns a 180, switching spots to push your back against the flat rocky surface and ram you up against the wall. “Does it? H-huh? Ngh. Does it make you ha-happy?”

The splishing of the waterfall and his fierce rhythmic grunts are the only sounds filling your ears. You nearly match the waterfall as more tears spill and that’s when you’re sure he doesn’t require a verbal reply. The confirmation of your entire body responding to him renders sufficient, like how your fingers instinctively entwine with his hair, gentle tugs at snowy locks for extra support, you then give a few wobbled nods.

But now he needs a little more support and leverage, gearing up for that one ideal angle in you.

Hanging low and tilted just overhead, rests a bamboo tree. Reaching that one sweet gummy spot inside of you will mean reaching one of his arms up to grab hold of it. Gojo steadily raises both of your connected bodies so both waists together are just a hair above the waterline. He is up on his toes, tight grip on the bamboo culm, when he pounds you to perfection, deep and generous, positively wrecking you ‘till you’re wailing from your finish in blinding satisfaction.

And daddy fucks you raw into the night, again and again, through to the edge of dawn; then later on, when the birds begin to chirp and you are fully spent in his bed – so fucking cute when you’re fast asleep – Gojo realizes he won’t ever grow tired of the faint traces of cherry smeared across his pillows.

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