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nanaslutt · 4 months

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Passing out in the middle of sex w/ the JJK men

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Choso

Contains: fem reader, stomach bulge (geto's), rough sex, teasing, dirty talk, fluff, comfort, oral (f!receiving), multiple positions, hair pulling, masturbation, sugar baby!Toji, Virgin!Choso

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

"Fuck- take my fucking cock baby, take that shit-" Gojo groaned in your ear, his hands gripping your hair, right against your scalp, as he gave you the meanest fucking backshots, bullying his fat cock into your cunt.

Tears streamed down the sides of your flushed cheeks, soaking into the sheets your face was pressed into. Gojo's body was hunched over yours, his hand pressing into the sheets on the side of your body, giving him the perfect leverage to keep himself up while he fucked you nice and deep.

"Sa-toruuu-" You cried, your moans coming out strangled and choked from the way his cock was assaulting your sweet spot so deep inside you. "What is it? Talk to me, baby." Gojo cooed, sucking in a breath through his teeth when he felt your cunt clench tightly around him as his tip hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

"S-slow down p-pleasee~" You tried to beg, the words spilling from your lips being barely distinguishable from how slurred they were. Gojo giggled, followed by his hand gripping your hair tighter, making your scalp ache. "I dont think I will..." Gojo cooed, pretending to pout when you cried harder in response.

"You were rubbin' all up on me, interrupting my phone call with Nanamin because you wanted my cock so bad. Now you're cryin' about how it's too much?" Gojo said, scrunching his eyebrows at you in faux sympathy. "Nah, you're gonna take it, sorry mama I really am." He finished, emphasizing his words with a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Your hands dug into the pillow you were holding on to for dear life as he sped up his thrusts, rolling his hips just right so he was obliterating your g-spot, making you see stars in your vision. You tried to beg and cry for reprive, but Gojo was not listening at all, his hand shoving your face harder against the pillow instead as he silently told you to shut up and take it.

Gojo's cock always made you see stars and feel dizzy, but something was different this time. Your vision started to trickle more and more with those fuzzy black dots as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm, your eyes struggling to stay in their sockets as they rolled back continuously in your head.

"You cumming baby? You just got so much tighter, fuck!" Gojo groaned, his hand letting up on shoving your head down slightly so he could lean back and rub your clit with the hand that was holding you up. The sneaky thing slinking between your legs and rubbing quick circles against your bud caught you off guard, resulting in a loud cry being ripped from your lungs, making Gojo laugh as you spasmed on his cock, your orgasm taking you by surprise as it wracked your body with tremors.

You opened your mouth in a silent cry as you came, and before you knew it, you were out cold. Your arms going limp under the pillow, your eyes rolling back before they shut completely as you blacked out. "F-fuck-" Gojo hadn't noticed that you passed out, only seconds after he felt your cunt spasm around him, he released your head and placed his hand on your ass, gripping the fat as he pulled out of your pussy, his other hand immediately wrapping around his cock, jerking himself off hastily as he groaned through his orgasm, hot ropes of cum landing all over your ass and back, as Gojo decorated your skin so prettily with his seed.

Your body still trembled in your sleep, but your breathing had evened out. If not for Gojo's hand on your ass, you would've fallen on your side completely. "Shiiiiit, so fucking pretty." Gojo laughed through the last shocks of his orgasm, wringing his cock out over your ass as he made sure he painted your skin with every last drop of his cum.

"You're so quiet baby, you alright?" Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side as he tried to get a better look at your face. Usually, you whined or something when he came all over you, the sensation of his cum on your back making your body jolt in surprise--something. "Baby?" He started to get worried, tucking his cock into his sweats quickly he leaned over you, his hand sliding up your body.

The second Gojo wasn't holding you up anymore, you collapsed against the sheets, your chest rising and falling steadily as you slept. "Oh shit, came so hard you passed out?" Gojo smiled softly, scooping your body into his arms effortlessly. Gojo relaxed when your head tipped limply against his naked chest, your breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I did go too hard, sorry baby~" Gojo cooed, kissing your forehead.

"Alright~ Upsiedasiesy~ Let's go get you cleaned up you drama queen." Gojo smiled to himself, lifting you off the bed as he carried you to the bathroom to clean you up all nice so you didn't wake up a sticky mess in the morning. You were already going to beat his ass in the morning for not listening to you when you told him to slow down, it was the least he could do. Satoru listened to you during sex after that. For the most part.

Geto:

Geto had you in the meanest mating press, your legs over his shoulders, body folded over on itself as he leaned his large frame over yours, slowly but roughly fucking his massive cock into your cunt, stretching you out. Geto was obsessed with watching your eyes roll back in your head each time he thrust his dick to the hilt inside you, his ego swelling each time your face scrunched in painful pleasure from the sheer size of him.

"You feel me in there baby? Feel me in 'ur fuckin' stomach?" Geto groaned, his hand sliding between the two of you to press harshly against your stomach, feeling his cock through your pelvis. Your eyes shot open in alarm, the feeling of his cock being ten times more intense as your g-spot was now forced down to meet his cock.

"S-suguru d-dont press there!!" You tried to tell him, your hands around his neck digging into his skin, sure to leave angry red marks all over his back from your nails. "Su-suguuu!!" You cried. Each time he pulled his cock out and fucked it back inside you it felt like your guts were falling out, your body molding around him when he thrust back inside as he made room for his stupidly large cock.

"But it feels so fucking good-" He groaned, pulling his lip between his teeth as he felt his cock thrust inside you from the outside of your body. "Cmon sweet girl, look~" Geto grabbed your arm, pulling it off of his back, your nails scratching his skin in the process as he let up the pressure of his hand on your tummy, placing your hand where his once was before he pressed his over yours, returning the pressure as he made you feel his cock through your skin.

"You feel that? I'm so deep huh?" Geto cooed against your lips, feeling your rapid breaths tickle against them as you basically hyperventilated from how intense it felt. "Y-yes I feel it- fuck!" You whined, your head tipping back into the pillow, your eyes rolling back in your head, your lids following, shutting around them.

Geto kept your hand pressed there as he leaned forward, sucking hickeys into your neck, his hips fucking faster into you when he felt like your pussy was loosened enough. "Ah- ah- ah-" He fucked short, desperate cries from your lungs with each thrust, your fingers tangling in his long hair, gripping against the strands for dear life.

Your legs ached from the position as he pummeled your cunt, giving you deep thrusts as he pulled his cock out almost entirely before thrusting it back into you. "Sugu- It's too deep- too much-" You cried against his ear, your face only flushing redder and redder the longer he fucked into you.

"Shhh, you can take it, just let me give it to you princess, let me fuck you like this." He whispered back, his breath tickling your neck as he spoke, his lips going back to suck against your neck as he disregarded your words. You cried on his cock all the time, complaining about how it was 'too much' but you never meant it, always complaining and asking why he stopped when he actually did slow down, so why would it be any different this time?

"N-no Sugu reallyyy- t-too much-" You tried to whimper out, your eyes squeezing together tightly as the pressure in your stomach became too much. The pleasure was overwhelming, and his weight pressing against you was overbearing, your body couldn't take it anymore. Your jaw dropped in a gasp right before your body went limp, your mind going completely blank as you passed out, mid stroke.

Your hand loosening in his hair and falling limply against the sheets was all he needed to know something wasn't right. Within seconds of you passing out, Geto pulled his head back from your neck to look at your face, noticing how relaxed it was as your head laid to the side against his pillow. He stopped his thrusts completely, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he let your legs fall from his shoulders, his hand caressing your cheek.

"Baby?" Geto spoke, shaking your head softly, your head jostling limply in his hold. He pulled his cock out of you that instant, his thighs straddling your hips as he cradled your face in both of his hands, shaking a little harder as he tried to wake you up. "Cmon pretty, wake up for me." He mumbled to himself, tapping his fingers against your cheek.

He sighed in relief when you stired awake, gaining your consciousness. "There you are." He smiled, his cock still throbbing hard pointing upwards as he crawled off of you, sliding to the side of your body, running his hands over your cheeks. "You passed out on me baby." He explained when you looked at him slightly confused, your face instinctually leaning into his touch.

He lifted your body with ease from under your arms, making you sit on his thighs, facing him. You leaned forward onto his chest, your shaky body absorbing his body heat. "Asshole..." You mumbled into his skin, wrapping your arms under his, your hands resting on his back. His cock twitched when it was pressed against your stomach, but he did his best to ignore it. "I told you it was too much." You chastized, hiding your face in his chest as you blushed in embarrassment, you cant belive you actually just fucking passed out during sex.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't know you were serious." He said, trying to hold back his giggles as he soothingly rubbed his hands over your back. "Asshole, asshole, asshole, asshole." You repeated, one of your hands sliding out from his arm to weakly slap at his naked chest, your blush only growing deeper. You wished you would pass out again to excape how embarrassing this was.

"I know, I know. I'm an asshole." He agreed, pressing his lips together as he looked down at you fondly as you took your anger out on him. He knew you were embarrassed, so if this is what made you feel better so be it. The fact that he was still hard only added to your irritation, your face feeling as hot as the sun as you smacked him harder, "Pervert, pervert, pervert, pervert." You groaned, your chant switching between the two.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it." He laughed, squeezing tightly around your body, pressing your arms flush to his body so you couldn't hit him anymore. You blushed furiously and helplessly against him as your body was restrained by his sheer strength. "Are you okay baby? Seriously." He asked, tipping his head to the side as he looked at you, his hand stroking over your head. "I-I'm fine." You blushed at his sudden demeanor change.

"Good, also I think we might want to establish a safeword from now on." He added, your eyes darting around the room as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed in agreement, still trying to recover from the massive hit to your pride passing out had done to it.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah? I'll run you a bath and make you some tea, okay? Sound good princess?" Geto asked, his large hands running over the expanse of your back, making your body relax against his unconsciously as you nodded against him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with sleep.

Nanami:

"Mmm..." Nanami moaned against your clit, shaking his head back and forth along your folds while he sucked your clit between his lips, his tongue flicking against it in his mouth. "Fff-uck!!" You cried, your thighs squeezing around his head as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hands dug into his hair tightly, your nails raking against his scalp to ground yourself, Nanami's long fingers curled right against your sweet spot inside you, his quick thrusts only adding to the already loud squelching coming from between your legs, making the tips of your ears turn red in embarrassment. You fought your head to stay down, looking at Nanami, you didn't want to miss the sight of your gorgeous husband eating you out.

It's not like it was a rare occurrence, Nanami ate you out every single time before the two of you had sex, but it was a sight to behold every single time. You never got tired of the sight of his lidded eyes staring at yours, the entire half of his lower face covered in your slick, his usually uniform hair being strewn in every direction as you ruffled the strands, your hands pushing his bangs out of his face to get a better view of him.

One of Nanami's hands was pressed between his body and the bedsheets as he jerked himself off while he ate you out, unable to ignore the throbbing pleasure in his cock he got from tasting you. He stroked his cock to the pace of his fingers inside you, trying to mimic the way your cunt felt around him.

"Oh fuck- Nanami right there-" You moaned, your jaw dropping in a small o when he sucked your clit just right, his fingers stabbing into your spot simultaneously, causing the most delicious pleasure to wrack through your body. Your back arched as you pressed Nanami's head agaisnt your pussy, keeping him in that exact spot that had you seeing stars. "Fuck don't stop- k-keep sucking my clit I'm gonna cum-" You gasped, your words coming out breathily as you threw your head back, your eyes screwed shut from the pleasure.

Nanami groaned into your folds, his hand jerking faster over his cock when he felt your cunt pulse faster around his fingers. "Nggghhhh-" You whined as the pleasure took over your body, your thighs snapping shut around your husbands head as he continued to suck your clit into his mouth, his fingers fucking into you as he worked your though your orgasm.

Your body jerked forward, hands digging into his hair as you cried out his name as you felt your release squirt into his mouth. Nanami drank up all of you hungrily, his tongue lapping at the base of his fingers when you started to come down from your high, his adam's apple bobbing as he greedily swallowed up all of your cum.

"Good girl, good fucking girl." Nanami groaned against your clit, his voice coming out hoarse. You whined as his fingers continued thrusting inside of you, his hand still jerking quickly over his cock. You thought he was going to stop after you came, but you quickly realized after trying to push his head away to no avail, that that was not the case. Nanami was in one of his moods, and he was not done eating your pussy quite yet.

"Fuck- Ken waitttt- It's sensitive Kento-" You cried, your hands pushing at his head harder, trying to get him to let up. His hand that was jerking himself off shot out from under him to grab at both of your wrists, pushing them off of his head as he gripped them over your pelvis, his eyes shooting daggers at you.

You whined, your body thrashing and jerking in oversensitivity as he kept fucking you, continuing the same rough pace as before, your poor clit being assaulted by his ruthless tongue as he battered at it. "Oh g-oddd-" You groaned, your face scrunched in the overwhelming pleasure as he fucked you quickly towards another orgasm.

You thought the black dots that started to speckle your vision were because of your impending orgasm, but you would be sorely mistaken. Your entire body tensed before it relaxed against the sheets, your head fell back against the pillow, your hands loosened in Nanami's hair, and your thighs relaxed with the rest of your body as you fell unconcious.

Nanami's eyes were screwed shut as he shook his head back and forth, but they peeled open when he noticed how your body relaxed at once. He was met with your peaceful-looking face as your body laid slack agaisnt the sheets. He quickly raised from between your thighs, wiping your cum from his mouth with the back of his hand he reached over you and caressed your face, calling your name repeatedly.

It didn't take much for you to come to, you were only out for maybe a total of thirty seconds. You awoke to Nanami's body hovering over yours, his flushed face staring at yours with concern. "Hey there." He smiled when you fully opened your eyes. The first thing you noticed was how sore you felt between your legs, your face scrunching in discomfort.

"I'm sorry, that was too much wasn't it?" Nanami immediately apologized, his face softening as he caressed your sleepy-looking face. "I- I didn't know I was going to pass out, I'm sorry." You replied, looking away from his gaze. Sure, it did feel intense, but nothing more than you haven't felt before.

"Don't apologize sweet thing, it was my fault, I should be more careful. I got carried away." Nanami said honestly. Your shaky hands reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling his face down to meet your own. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, full of love and compassion, before you pulled away, looking at him with a red face.

"I'm okay, It's alright Ken." You reassured, rubbing your fingers over his undercut, making him practically purr. He sighed in relief before his body was pressing against yours, his arms wrapping under your body. "You had me worried. Never passed out on me before." Nanami spoke into the crook of your neck, pressing light kisses into the skin there.

You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, keeping him tightly against you. "Kento." You spoke after a couple seconds, making him hum into your neck. "You're really hard. I can feel it on my leg." You whispered, blushing at your own words. Nanami cleared his throat before he spoke, his head pulling up from your neck to look at your face, "Ah, sorry. Ignore that, I'll go take care of it." He said, the tips of his ears turning red.

You pulled him back down towards you when he tried to get up to take care of his little problem. "That's not what I meant." You said, looking into his eyes while you bit your lip. "I uh... I'm up to keep going if you want. You haven't even put it in yet." You said, running your fingers up the back of his head, sending goosebumps down his spine.

"I don't know if that's a good idea..." Nanami said softly, trying to ignore how hard his cock twitched in his sweats at the proposition. "Ken I'm okay I promise. Please? I want you inside me." You whispered, wrapping your legs around his hips. Those words were all he needed to hear. Looking between your bodies before he pressed his clothed cock agaisnt your cunt, he looked back up at you before he spoke, "Are you sure?"

You humped your hips up to meet his as you nodded, "I'm sure, please." You said once more, moaning softly when his tip bumped against your sensitive clit. With a sigh, Nanami leaned forward, hovering his lips right above yours, "Alright... I'll be careful."

Toji: cw: toji keeps going after you pass out, breeding kink

"Dirty fuckin' girl, pussy is fuckin' swallowing up my cock," Toji growled, yanking your hips back to meet his, his heavy balls slapping against your clit roughly, making you whine in painful pleasure. You arched your back, throwing your ass against him to meet his thrusts, your hands against the sheets holding yourself up giving you the perfect leverage to fuck yourself on his cock.

"Fuck Toji- Harder- give it to me harder-" You begged, biting your lip as your eyes crossed at his cock pounding against your g-spot, his fat tip absolutely obliterating it. "Anything for my favorite client~" Toji groaned, smirking at your shameless show of your need for him, his hips pulling back further as he fucked all 8 inches into you faster, pulling out to the tip before he bullied it back inside you.

"Ohmygoddd-" You whined, your cunt gushing around him as he fucked you just how you liked, his hands sneaking under your body to rub at your clit, adding to your pleasure. "How's that feel mama? Am I giving it to you good? You like when I fuck you hard like this?" Toji cooed, groaning through his words. You fucking loved how filthy his mouth was.

Toji wasn't quiet outside of the bedroom, but he wasn't exactly a man of many words. During sex, however--this beast of a man got pussy drunk on you quick every single time, the feeling of your familiar tight, wet walls around him never failing to make his lips loose, filth spilling from his lips without a second thought the second they popped into his fucked out head.

"Yes T-toji, feels so good- you're s-so deep-" You whined back, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes. Toji groaned at your words, his finger rubbing faster across your clit, his movements becoming sloppy as your words worked him up to no end. Toji would never admit it out loud, but he had a major praise kink. He could feel his cock leak pre-cum every time you told him how good his cock felt inside you.

"Yeah, pretty girl? Feels that good? You fucking love this dick huh?" He babbled, sucking air in through his teeth when you clenched around him. "Yes Tojiiii, love it so much- fucking love your dick- g'na make me cum-" You cried, your words coming out slurred. Toji loved how easy it was to make you cum, your body was so sensitive to his every touch it drove him up the fucking walls.

"Good girl, this fucking dick loves you too." Toji laughed through a groan. "'M gonna cum with you pretty girl, where do you want it, hm? Where do you want my c-cum? he added, feeling his cock twitch inside your cunt with his impending release.

"I-Inside inside please- cum inside me-" You babbled, the upper half of your body falling against the sheets as your arms gave out. Toji's body chased yours, his hands planting on the sides of your body on the bed as he humped his cock into you, his fingers not letting up on your clit as he rubbed small quick circles into the little bud.

You felt so dizzy with his cologne filling up your nose with his proximity. He hooked his fingers into your already open mouth as he gave you hard, deep thrusts, fucking you both toward your orgasms. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Cum deep inside your tight little cunt?" Toji groaned against the shell of your ear. "Might knock you up, bet you'd like that though huh? Bet it makes you feel all hot jus' thinkin' about it, can feel your pussy tryna' milk my cock right now." He babbled.

You didnt even have time to respond before you were gasping agaisnt his fingers, your eyes rolling back in your head as his cock fucked your orgasm out of you, his hips rolling into your ass, the tip of his cock massaging against your sweet spot so perfectly, making your eyes roll back in your head. "Oh shit- so fucking tight-" Toji groaned as you came around him, your pussy spasming around him.

You severely underestimated how hard your orgasm was. Barely three seconds into it and you were blacking out, your arch falling as you fell limply against the sheets, Toji's hips chasing yours as he continued fucking into you with reckless abandon. "Oh shit, did'ya pass out, pretty?" Toji groaned, his hands pressing into the sheets next to your body as he continued humping into your warm cunt, his eyes taking in the sight of your relaxed face.

"Shit-" Toji laughed, feeling a whole new wave of arousal wracks through him, "You don't mind if I finish right? 'M so fucking close~" He cooed at you as you breathed steadily against the sheets, your cunt still sucking him in as tightly as it was while you were awake. Toji smirked as he picked up his pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. "Yeah, you don't mind. Such a good girl for me, always so fucking good." He praised, feeling himself on the edge.

"Fuck- I'm cumming princess, gonna fill you up just how you w-wanted. Sorry, you're not awake to f-feel it. There's gonna be so fucking much." He babbled, his hips losing their rhythm inside you right before he came. Your body jostled limply as he used your cunt to get himself off, his hips stilling agaisnt your ass as he shot rope after rope of his hot cum inside you, groaning loudly through his teeth as he did so.

"Yeah take that fucking load- goddd. Suck me so good even when you're out. Heh." he huffed out a laugh as he rolled his hips agaisnt your ass, making sure he gave you every last drop of his cum. He let himself relish in the feeling of your warm walls spasming around him for a few seconds longer before he pulled out, his cum chasing his cock as it dripped out of your tight hole, dribbling down your pussy.

Sitting back on his heels, he scooped his cum up with his fingers before he shoved them inside you, making sure his cum stayed nice and deep in your pussy. "Guess I gotta wake you up now, huh?" Toji said to himself, his eyes taking in how peaceful you looked. "Time to get up sleeping beauty. Daddy needs his payment." He said half joking as he crawled up your body and slapped your cheek softly before following it up with a gently rub, trying to wake you up.

Sukuna: cw: heian era true form sukuna, monsterfucking, rough sex, cervix fucking, degradation, stomach bulge, misogyny if you squint, squirting, semi-soft Sukuna at the end

"That's the best you can do? Your reputation does not precede you, I thought you could take cock with no problem, hm? Should I have chosen someone else?" Sukuna teased, pouting as you struggled to ride his massive cock, your hands jerking his second cock in tandem as you tried to bounce on the other.

Sukuna had never picked up a girl from a whorehouse before, but with your reputation running rampant across the village he resided in about how well you supposedly took cock, he decided to give it a shot. He was only teasing when he said he should've chosen someone else. You were easy on the eyes, and he would be lying if he said he didn't love watching a pretty girl struggle on his cock.

Usually, he would be fed up with this slow, weak pace, but he was in no rush today, so he decided to have a little fun with you. "I've n-never taken someone as big as you m-my lord." You whined, your hands squeezing around his tip harder when his cock hit your cervix painfully as you sat down on it.

"No? Is that why you're being such a crybaby?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he watched fat tears roll down your rosy cheeks, mixing with the sweat beading on your neck. His eyes watched how your tits bounced as you rode him, only taking in about half of his cock as the whole thing proved to be too painful.

"Fuckkk-" You groaned, ignoring his words as you tried to focus on taking his cock the best you could. Sukuna sat back agaisnt his throne, two inhuman arms spread over the armrests on his throne, two placed on your thighs, his long nails digging into your thighs as you rode him.

The slow pace was annoying, sure, but it was doing something for him to watch your face twist in painful pleasure as you fucked him. "L-lord Sukuna, P-please, a little help please-" You whined, feeling your legs start to ache from riding him for so long, your stomach starting to cramp from how deep he was inside you.

"How shameless." He tsked, "We just met, you fuck me at the pace of a snail, and now you dare to ask me for help? What terrible manners." He chastised before his strong hands pulled you down against him completely, his cock fucking into your cunt as deep as it could go, his tip knocking painfully against your cervix.

You cried out in pain, the sound sending blood rushing to his cock, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he watched you writhe on top of him, your hands leaving his second cock to press over the bulge in your tummy, your jaw dropped in awe. "It's deep huh? I can see it poking through your skin." Sukuna growled before his hands slit to your waist and used the leverage he had there to fuck you on his cock like his own personal cocksleve.

"S-sukunaa!! L-ord Sukuna p-please! It's too much!" You cried, your hands grabbing his thick wrists as he fucked you at an inhuman pace--fitting. Sukuna looked at you almost disgusted, confused, you couldn't tell through the tears blurring your vision. "What a selfish girl." He growls. "I thought you wanted help? But now it's too much? Make up your mind, dumb woman."

You could do nothing but cry and scream as he impaled you on his cock. You've never felt anything like how you were feeling right now, it was so intense. You swore the second you walked out of here, you were going to go straight to the infirmary to check if he had punctured your stomach open, because it sure as hell felt like it.

"And now she can't even talk, how pathetic." Sukuna tsked, looking at you with a face full of disappointment. You could barely register the small sinister smirk spreading across his face before you felt the reason for his demeanor change on your body. Looking down you saw a mouth the size of a small child had manifested on his stomach, and a thick tongue was poking out between the lips to lick at your pussy.

"H-huh!?" You yelped in surprise when the tongue battered harshly against you, sending sparks through your tummy. "Surely you'll be able to move your hips now, hm? This spot here makes women so sensitive." Sukuna cooed, watching how the tongue on his stomach emphasized his words by trying to focus on your clit. The attempt proved to be a little difficult from the size difference of your small clit to his tongue, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself nonetheless.

"Wait- w-wait please p-lease wait-" you cried, the feeling of his tongue quickly becoming overwhelming. The cock not inside you was dripping pre-cum all over the outside of your tummy, the appendage having a strong curve as his tip was being rubbed against your skin. Before Sukuna could spew more mean words, a clear liquid was being sprayed across his abdomen, making his eyes open in surprise.

Sukuna had never seen anything like it before. The liquid dripped down his cock, and all over his abdomen, some of it even landing on the stomach mouth as he lapped it up greedily, tasting the liquid. While Sukuna was still taking in this new sight, your body collapsed limply against his chest, his hands freezing in place as he looked down at your smaller frame agaisnt him, breathing peacefully unconscious as if you weren't currently tending to him.

"You're kidding me," Sukuna growled, the prominent vein in his forehead popping out as he ran his hand through his hair, sighing at the current predicament. "Human women are so weak." He sighed, continuing to rake his eyes over your frame as you slept without a care in the world against him. "I have no interest in fooling around with a sleeping person. So boring." He said, his lip raising in untinerest.

His cock was still hard inside of you, his mind still replaying what had happened moments before you passed out so selfishly. How could you expose him to something like that then pass out? He wanted to see it again. His eyes studied your face, and after some time he found himself thinking you looked almost cute.

He didn't recognize the feeling, chalking it up to amusement as one of his large hands rested on your lower back. his eyes finally looking away from your frame as he looked around the empty room around him. "You better wake up soon, girl. I'm not done with you." Sukuna growled, relaxing against his throne as he waited for his little plaything to awaken.

Choso:

"Fuck- oh god this feels so good-" Choso cried, humping his big cock desperately and sloppily inside your cunt. Choso was a virgin prior to your interaction now, and you had somehow convinced him to let you take his virginity from him. You had always been attracted to the half-curse, so you thought this was a brilliant idea.

What you hadn't accounted for, was the possibility that this innocent man had a horse cock between his thighs. Choso had thought there was something wrong with his equipment when you stared at his cock like it was something foreign after he pulled it out of his pants. "I-is there something wrong?" He had asked insecurely.

Your eyes merely dragged up to meet his eyes slowly, the awestruck look still on your face, your jaw dropped in a small o shape as you stared at him incredulously. When you told him his cock was the biggest you'd ever seen, he looked almost confused, proceeding to ask you if that was a good thing. Choso clearly had no idea how big he was, and he definitely had no idea how to use it.

He was so oblivious to how much damage his dick was currently doing to your pussy. You briefly taught him how to stretch you out on his fingers, but even as thick as they were--they did little to prepare you for the girth and length of his cock. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to conceal your moans, trying your best to instruct Choso how to fuck you correctly.

His reckless, sloppy thrusting did feel good nonetheless, but you knew with a cock his size--that it could feel even better if he fucked you with some sort of a technique. "C-choso- a-aim your hips up when you t-thrust inside me," You whined, your hands reaching down to grab his hips and pull them towards you, trying to give him some direction. "L-like this?" Choso asked, thrusting into you at a new angle, the tip of his cock pistoning straight into your sweet spot.

You sighed out in sweet relief at how good it felt. "Yes~ Fuck yes, right there Choso, keep fucking me right there, just like t-that," You praised, your eyes rolling back in your head as it fell back against the pillow. You allowed Choso to have his way with your body as your relaxed against the sheets.

It was a smart move on your end to suck Choso off and make him cum once before he fucked you, he was lasting longer than you thought he would for a virgin. "God- It's so tight. Is it always this tight?" He asked, staring between where the two of you were connected, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

"Mhmm- y-yeah." You answered, only half listening to his question as he fucked you just right, his fat cock hitting all the right spots inside you. "It's so warm too... I love this, I love fucking you like this. I- I don't want this to end." He babbled honestly, quickly becoming pussy drunk as his eyes searched for yours. You looked down at him, meeting his desperate, puppy-like gaze.

Smiling at his sweet face, you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him towards you, your lips grazing against his. "Me neither Choso, keep fucking me. Your cock feels s-so good inside me." You whispered against his lips, resulting in a whine from the dark-haired man before you pressed your lips to his, swallowing up all his gasps and whines.

He kissed you sloppily, but his beginner technique felt good as he tried to copy you, licking into your mouth, and tangling his tongue with yours. "This feels good," He pulled away to moan aginst your lips before leaning back in to continue making out with you.

His honesty made you hot all over, you don't think you've ever been with a guy as verbal and sweet as Choso. "So good Cho, you're doing so good." You groaned against his lips, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he fucked his cock inside you.

He pulled back from the kiss as he placed leaned back on his heels, pulling your thighs over his as he fucked into you in the new position. This position allowed his cock to fuck straight into your g-spot, making you cry out loudly for him. "Holy fuck-" You groaned, your eyes rolling back in your head at how intense it felt.

Choso groaned at your response, his face heating up at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him tighter at this new angle. While the curse took in how your body moved and bounced under him, his eyes latched onto a small pearl-looking thing right above the hole he was fucking into, the bead being covered slightly with a flap of skin.

The sudden urge to touch it came over him as he reached out for it, "Can I touch right here?" He asked. Before you were able to look down at what he was referring to, you felt his thumb on your clit, the pad of it rubbing along the nub with pinpoint accuracy. The added sensation of him touching your clit made you scream out for him.

The fact that this half-curse had manifested less than a year ago, was currently losing his virginity, and had found your clit with such ease, better than most people you've had who weren't virgins and had been alive for however many years-- sent you spiraling. "Fuck Cho w-wait-" You tried to warn him it was too much, but it was too late.

Your vision went blurry and your head spun as little black dots clouded your vision before you blacked out, falling unconscious in the middle of him fucking into you and harshly rubbing at your clit. "H-huh?" Choso stopped moving when he looked down and noticed your limp body. He called out you name, and to no avail, not even a twitch of response from your out-cold body.

He stayed inside of you, frozen in place as he tried to think of what to do. "A-are you okay?" He asked, his hand shaking the side of your body gently, your body jiggling with his touch. "I don't know what to do..." He mumbled, looking around the room like the walls would come to life and give him guidance.

"Hey, you okay?" He repeated again, leaning over your body to shake your face, his cock still snug inside you. You winced and groaned as you came to, your eyes cracking open once more. You were met with Choso smiling softly at you, looking relieved. "You fell asleep. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Are you okay?" He asked, keeping his hand on your face, rubbing the sweat from your skin.

"Fuck... Choso I'm sorry, I bet I scared you huh?" You said apologetically, your hand cupping over his as you rubbed the back of his hand. Choso pouted before he responded, "Don't be sorry, I was a little startled, but I think that was my fault." He said, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. "Does that normally happen?" He asked, tipping his head at you.

You laughed, your hand caressing down his arm. "Not usually no, it's definitely never happened to me before, you're dick is just too good Cho." You giggled, watching how embarrassed he got when you said that. "I-I don't know." He said, looking away from your face in embarrassment--he really was oblivious.

"No?" You teased, purposefully squeezing your cunt around his cock, making him hiss at the sensation, his eyes fluttering shut. "Why don't you fuck me some more, hm? I'll tell you all about how good your cock makes me feel." You whisper teasingly, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek, pushing his stray hair away from his face.

"Is that okay?" He asked hesitantly, "What if you pass out again?" Choso swallowed all the saliva in his dry mouth, feeling himself throb inside your walls. He really did want to keep going, but he was afraid of you passing out again. "It's okay, just take it easy, and maybe don't touch my clit for now." You added, laughing, making him blush as he nodded in understanding.

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fairy-angel222 · 3 months

Text

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍’ 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 !”

—how the jjk men punish you

ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, nanami, sukuna

cw: smut, overstimulation, choking, recording, degradation, praise, spanking, edging, toy use, mommy kink, daddy kink, squirting, crying, double penetration

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ✮

Gojo’s a pleasure giver. But he can’t help it if pleasure turns to pain. So when you make him real mad, what else to do but to fuck you till you’re crying. Shaking, begging him to give you a break. Pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your aching cunt with no remorse.

“P-pleasee Sat-oruuu, ‘m sorry-yy.” you cried with a hiccup. “I can’t t-take it. ‘M close again and i-it hurts.”

“It’s all your fault baby. Couldn’t just be a good girl f’ me now could you?” Landing a harsh slap to your overly sensitive clit making you mewl loudly.

You were a mess. Your cheeks stained black from the running of your mascara. The sides of your swollen red lips filled with drool at your constant cries.

A choked scream escaped your lips when Gojo reached down to rub your clit. Your hands flying to his wrist in an attempt to pull his hand away. “Toruuu— uh uh, ‘s too s-sensitive,” you sobbed. Your boyfriend scowling as his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

“Unless you want your punishment to be worse, you better behave.” he growled out into your ear. You whimpered as you let go of him, the pace of his thrusts speeding up along with the movement of his fingers. “There we go, good girl.” he cooed.

The coil in your stomach was painfully ready to snap. Your eyes rolling back for what felt like the millionth time and your sobs becoming one with your moans as your body shook. Your pussy clenched down hard on his cock as you squirted, Gojo’s hand rubbing messily at the wetness between your folds.

Gojo laughed darkly, “Seven outa seven times you’ve squirted huh, three more to go and i’m at a new high score.” Lifting you onto your hands and knees despite your tear filled whines of ‘no more.’

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 ✮

Geto’s pretty mean sometimes. When he gets mad he loves to humiliate you. Fucking your throat with a camera in your face, calling you the most degrading names. Then making you watch it when you’re done and threatening to make it public if you ever disobey him again.

“Say hi to the camera slut. Tell them how much of a stupid fucking girl you’ve been,”

You only whine in response, your eyes welling with tears as Geto pushed your head further down on his cock. A loud gag sounding from your throat as your nose pressed against his pubic region, your nails digging into his thighs as you ran out of oxygen.

You let out a gasp for air when Geto roughly pulls your face back up, the camera zoomed into your spit coated chin, your flushed cheeks, and your glassy eyes. His palm landing on your cheek in a hard slap with the sinister tilt of his head. “ Ready to tell them why you’re here like this?”

You hiccuped, biting your lip at the sting flowing through your face. “‘M a bad girl who doesn’t obey instructions.” you whimpered, looking up through wet lashes as Geto smirked down at you. “And ‘s my fault ‘m getting punished.”

“Good girl.” Going back to fucking into your parted lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he brought himself to release. Pulling you off of him and spilling his cum all over your face. “Now smile for the camera.”

And you did as told, giving the camera a small smile as the thick white substance dripped onto your exposed chest.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ✮

Spanks you till your ass is red. Making you count each one and starting again every time you pulled away or reached back to grab his wrists.

“Fort-yy,” you cried, your ass sore as your boyfriend soothed his hands into your flesh. A smile on his face as he nodded in approval. “You did well.”

Then to “reward” you he’s stuffing his cock into you, fucking you sweet and slow till you’re moaning his name. Your head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on your clit.

He fucks you just how he knew you liked it. Until your moans were getting louder and your legs started to tremble. “Ahh— Kentoo, ‘m close,”

Only to smirk down at you when he kissed down your neck, stilling his movements and pulling out of you as you clenched round nothing.

“Sorry sweetheart, bad girls don’t get forgiven that easily.” Walking away from you and leaving you whining with need. Your poor cunt in desperate need of a release.

Nanami’s expression doesn’t change when you beg him to finish the job. Sitting down and sipping his coffee as you attempted to rut your clit against his thigh. “K-kentoo please.”

“If you make yourself cum you get forty more.” he warned, watching as you whimpered pleadingly up at him. Your lips forming into a pout when he ignored you “You’re s-so mean.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you disobeyed me.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ✮

Toji’s even meaner side comes out when he’s angry, and he loves making you cum till you pass out. But not with his cock.

He leaves you tied to his bed, a gag in your mouth and your hands and legs bound to each corner of its frame. A vibrator strapped to your sensitive clit with a smaller one in you against your g spot.

“W-wait daddy don’t go— pl-ease don’t leave me like this.” you cried, the older man only smiling before gagging you again, waving goodbye before exiting the house.

The toys pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your poor body, your chin covered in your spit and tears. You couldn’t even feel your legs as they trembled, muffled screams falling past your lips as your pussy gushed onto the bed, again.

Your body spasmed, eyes shut tight as you attempted to pull your hips away from the vibrations on your clit. A defeated sob sounding in your throat when you were stopped by your restraints.

At least two hours went by, and your entire body was numb, your eyes struggling to stay open and your breathing heavy as you continued to swallow your tears.

When Toji gets home you’re already gone, the sheets underneath you soaked as you lay limp in the position he left you. Your legs still quivering with your wetness flowing uncontrollably out of your red, swollen cunt.

Toji smirked to himself, that should have taught you a lesson.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ✮

When you make Sukuna mad, he stuffs you full past your limit. “Kuna— don’t think it can fit. ‘S too much.”

“You better fucking take it. Since you wanna be so bad, i’ll make it fit.” Bullying both his cocks into your tight cunt, stretching you wide as he bottomed out in you.

You sobbed loudly, nails digging into his arms as you adjusted around his thick girth. Your head fuzzy and your tears not stopping as he chuckled darkly into your ear. “There you go.”

His hand reaching to wrap around your neck as he forced you to take him deep, your lips parted in silent choked mewls at the fullness. You’re letting out loud cries when he started bouncing you on him, his grin never falling as he thrusted up. Groaning deeply at how hard you tightened down on him.

When you get used to the sting you’re a moaning mess, your head thrown back as you filled the room with your noise. Legs trembling as Sukuna’s cocks both rubbed against your gummy walls.

“F-fuckkk— Kuna ‘m close.”

Sukuna scoffed. “This is a punishment, ya really think i’d let you cum?” he laughed loudly, eyes darkening as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Think again.”

Speeding up his pace until you were screaming, the coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap as you let your tears fall. “Pl-ease Kunaa. Needa cumm.”

“Yeah? Does my girl wanna cum that bad?” watching as you nodded with a whimper, pressing a hot kiss behind your ear. “Want me to let you cum?”

“Y-es— please.”

“Aww, well that’s too bad, if you cum you’ll never feel any of my cocks in you again.” he warned. A broken whine escaping your throat as your toes curled. You definitely wouldn’t last.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ✮

Choso is nine out of ten the one under you. But sometimes you make him really mad. And he punishes you the way he knows best.

His fingers on your clit as he lapped up your wetness, his face drenched in your slick and his eyes hazy at your taste. Your hands tied to the headboard above you as you tried to close your legs.

Choso whined into you. “Behave mommy— you always make me take my punishments, time for you to take yours.” His muffled voice against your flesh sending vibrations through your clit.

“Ch-oso— baby, you know am sorry, that’s enough.” you cried, your legs shaking as he sucked on your sensitive clit. “Choso,” you whimpered, “please baby- mommy can’t take it.”

He smiled widely, “That’s the point.” His hands hooking even tighter around your thighs. “Plus,” he groaned, “You taste sooo good.” Curling his tongue into your hole as you clenched down with a mewl.

“Gonna cum again mommy? Cum all over my face? Your pussy’s so sloppy.” he moaned, messily fucking you into you with his tongue. Your cries loud as you screamed his name incoherently.

Moaning as your sweet pussy gushed into his mouth, swallowing it down with a satisfied moan as he felt himself cum in his sweats. Again.

“‘M almost done mommy— promise.” he chuckled.

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lxnarphase · 3 months

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can i get a uhhhhh smut where reader wont stop running from tojis dick and he has to manhandle them into being still :3 !!!

take it...real slow ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, dirty talk, rough sex, husband!toji, toji being whipped for his wife, toji being super sweet but filthy at the time same, toji calls you 'ma' and 'mama'

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i love love looove the 'don't run away from it' with toji, i have to fight the urge from including it in every single work of mine ❤︎ but have a little blurbie of toji being a big bully that loves his wife who swears she can take the dick as i try to get back into the flow of writing !!

f. toji knows it's big, he knows it so well. he takes him time to prep you each and every time, his thick fingers rubbing slow circles into your clit to build you pleasure, getting you nice and wet. he loves when you keen his name when he slips them inside. groaning when you gush on his fingers.

"fuck, baby, you're drippin'," he murmurs, mouthing at your neck. "all hot and sticky just for me? tsk...had you like this all day, yeah?" when you nod, he just chuckles, kissing right behind your ear. poor thing, having to work all day with your pretty cunt dripping like this. but he knew it was his fault, having woken you up with his mouth glued to your pussy. the feeling of his tongue running through your folds. but of course, he didn't let you cum, no, toji wanted you to be needy for him until you came home.

"you're doin' so good for me, mama. gonna be a good wifey for me and let me give you what you need?"

leaning over you, toji cages you in with his arms, waiting for you to focus on him. "look at me, doll," he gently commands. his hand cups your cheek, giving soft little slaps that have you giggling as you turn to nip at his fingers. "there she is," he so so sweetly coos at you, but that smirk he gives you is mean. "such a pretty little thing, aren't ya?"

pushing up one of your thighs, toji rubs the swollen head of his thick cock against your slick folds, teasing at your entrance. you look so pretty, so cute, all his...but he knows what's going to happen the second he presses into you, and the thought makes him throb. "jus' relax, mama, 'm gonna make it good for you," he hums, pushing his tip into your cunt.

as he pushes deeper, he leans closer to whisper to you, his breathe hot against your ear. "you gonna run from it again, baby? like you always do? or you gonna be good for me this time?" you swear up and down you don't run away, that you take it because you love it, glaring up at him but that defiant look is wiped off your face the instant he feels that you've completely relaxed, sliding aaaall the way in.

"tojiiiiii, y-you can't just push, mn, in like that...you're so mean!"

"mm...nuh uh," he teases, an almost evil grin on his face as you gaped at his childish response. toji can feel that you need him, he knows you just desperately need to be fucked into the mattress...so of course he's gonna give his pretty wife just what she needs.

his hands hold you in place as he thrusts into you with force, a predatory glint in his eyes as he coos your name. he just started and your eyes are already starting to roll back, crying out his name as thanks for finally, finally fucking you like you needed it. each time he pressed in you could feel his hot tip smushing against your cervix.

"always sayin' 'it's too much, it's too much,' but look at you," he mocks, not allowing you to wiggle up the bed and away from him. no, no, you need this, you need it so bad, the way your pussy is sucking him in, milking his cock. this was the best away to make you take it, to have you trapped under him unable to move away from his fat cock abusing your insides.

"nothin' 's too good for ya, mama, nah, you deserve every. fuckin'. inch."

even thought he's got you trapped like this, you still start to move, trying to angle your hips away from each hard thrust into you. "doll," he growls, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. he was actually starting to get sick of it...why wouldn't you be good and take it for him? did you need him to be mean?

"it's like you want me to fuckin' manhandle you t'' stay still. fuckin' slut needs her husband to treat her like a toy?"

one look into your eyes made toji snap. all he could see was that silent answer of 'yes' in your eyes.

"oh. oh. oh, you do, you do, don't you? yeah? ohhh, baby girl, you poor poor thing, just needed your big bad toji t' use you like a fleshlight," he groans, coming down to support himself on his forearms as he began to pound into your messy cunt, laughing breathlessly when you practically sobbed.

"'m not lettin' you run away, mama," toji grunts, his eyes squeezed shut. "mmph, i'm gonna pump this little pussy full of my cum, gonna mark up those insides. yeah, you want that? huh? ooh, i know ya do, pretty thing."

"h-hu-ooh, babyy," you whine, eyes barely focusing on his face. your hands are gripping his hair and you realize now you really can't move away. his subtle repositioning has your hips a little off the bed. he's so deep, he's stretching you do good, you don't know why you'd wanna run away from it, you really don't, it's just too good, you feel like your going to explode--

"look at you now, mama," he praises. "fuck, can't run from it anymore? c'mon, doll, i'm gonna teach you t' take it. mmh, not lettin' you run anymore, gonna teach this pussy t' take every thing i give t' it, baby girl, 'm done lettin' you get away from me."

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #🔪 ── toji.#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

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joonie-beanie · 7 months

Text

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs.

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!”

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—”

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks.

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ”

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise.

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles.

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley genshin #genshin fic #bean fic #fic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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fallenneziah · 7 months

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Virgin!Reader who is shy and closed off about the idea of their first time. Who is hesitant when first getting with Ghost.

Virgin!Reader who gets in bed with their collosal boyfriend and is immediately a blushing mess when he touches them.

Virgin!Reader who has almost zero stamina and can cum on Ghost's fingers easily as he pumps his thick, calloused fingers deep inside. Purring sweet pet names in their ear and making them feel so good. Whimpering from the sensitivity.

Virgin!Reader who drools over Ghost's cock despite it's large size. Whimpering and asking if it'll hurt and if it'll fit as he lubes his cock.

"Only a little bit sweetheart. It'll feel really good after, I promise." He whispers against your ear, feeling so fucking hard from the idea of corruption you into his sweet little whore.

Virgin!Reader who clenches on Ghost's cock, mewling and letting out the sluttiest, unfiltered noises as Ghost starts to move, loving the feeling of just his cock sliding slowly in and out of you.

Ghost who is slow and gentle with you at first, peppering you in kisses and making you feel loved and adored, but the lewd sounds of your hole absolutely begging for more of him makes him feral.

Getting rough with you, fucking you hard, rubbing and stroking you, making you feel so fucking good. Hand clasped in your hair, calling you his sweet girl/boy. "There it is, fuck, you're so tight around me angel," he will curse, teeth grit against your shoulder or watching your back arch.

Virgin!Reader who absolutely eats it up. Cumming on his cock until their hips jolt and they have salty sweet tears rolling down their cheeks. Puffy lips and sore vocal chords from everything he's done to you.

Ghost who can feel the damp sheets under him from you absolutely leaking from the way he's treating you.

How you try to dirty talk back but your words are slurred and you can't make out a thought with his thick cock stretching you out ruthlessly.

Virgin!Reader whose told not to cum but can't stop from jerking, hips uneasy and organ abused and oversensitive from the amount of orgasms.

Virgin!Reader who passes out when Ghost gets really going, the pleasure too much for them before they find themselves back awake and being pumped full of seed.

Ghost who couldn't help himself, filling his baby to the brim with his nut, tainting your insides as his and only his. Claiming you, ruining you into his perfect partner.

Ghost who gives you the sweetest aftercare. Full of kisses, soft words of praise, caressing and holding you. Chances are he'll keep his cock buried in your warmth for a while longer, or maybe he'll pull out and watch his cum drip from your writhing entrance. If he does he'll be instantly hard and ready for more.

Seeing your fucked out look and how much rest you need just from one round of him playing rough up with your body.

Knowing that he's left you unable to ever seek pleasure from another man because your first experience was with him and he has never left anyone unsatisfied.

Knowing he's tainted you into someone who now thinks of his cock two times a day and whimpers when he has to leave for long times at work, knowing you'll miss his cock.

And that's how he likes it. Knowing you'll be missing him, wanting him and no one else. He's made you hungry, he's corrupted you and he couldn't be more proud.

#cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x any reader #simon riley x reader smut

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xanaxspritz · 1 month

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an: a continuation of these perv!nanami headcanons. im a journalist for my work and i had so many deadlines this past week. sorry for slight inactivity !!!

synopsis: nanami knew he was in trouble when you mentioned you were a virgin. he's been obsessed with bedding you ever since then

cw: perv!nanami, creampie, overstimulation, slight power imbalance, virgin afab! reader

nanami felt his own heart pounding when he opened the his apartment door for you. you looked so sweet, so delicate in the mini soft pink sundress you wore. your lips upturned into that shy flirty smile of yours that always drove him crazy. you looked good enough for him to eat whole.

he wondered if his intentions had been clear enough when he invited you over for the first time. unknowingly or not, you teased him relentless for weeks and weeks, from batting your doe eyes at him to slowly, day by day, showing up to his office at work in a much more revealing outfit than yesterday. you made him mad with lust.

and now he has you squirming on his couch, panties soaked and pulled aside with his thick fingers sliding in and out of you, thumb rubbing on top of your clit.

"that's it princess. you're doing so good," he says softy into your thigh, digging his fingers even deeper inside you. "need to stretch you out first."

"p-please i can't..." you mewl out. "it feels too g-good!"

"i know, i know. don't fight it, stay with me love." he reassures. determined to give you your first orgasm, he took out his digits and fully removed your pretty pink panties, diving into your wet heat, savoring and licking up all your deliciousness. the deep heat you felt down inside blossomed into a bright, mind numbing feeling that took over your whole being, as if you were floating on a cloud.

"good?" he asked.

you nodded, your head in a haze. never in your life have you felt this good, and you didn't want him to stop.

"im going to fuck you now. okay?"

"o-okay..." you watch him strip down to boxers, wondering how much trouble you would be in taking his girthy length.

"just relax," he whispers hovering on top of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

you felt his tat tip rubbing at your slick entrance, feeling every inch of him slide into you until he was fulling seated. it felt like he was slowly ripping you apart.

"kento, it hurts..." you whine.

"shh..ill go slow."

your pussy was intoxicating, so tight and snug around his cock, like a fitted glove. the fact that he was even fucking your little virgin pussy made him want to cum instantly, but he refrained, fucking deep long stokes into you.

"so fucking good," he moaned. "like you were made for me."

your eyes started to roll into the back of your head with pleasure as each stroke of his fat cock filled your pussy up. the living room filled with your soft whimpers and moans that made nanami's cock impossibly harder.

"i want to cum in your sweet little pussy. will you let me?"

too much of a daze, you nodded your head yes. loads and loads of his warm cum filled deep inside your womb. nanami pulled out, leaving the rest of the sticky substance to drip on to your inner thighs.

you didnt realize how tight you were gripping nanami's shoulders until he pulled off you, red finger marks rippled along his collarbones.

still fucked out, you rolled into his arms, where he holds you so dearly as if you were a piece of fine china he was scared to drop.

"good girl," he mumbled into your hair. "taking my cock so perfectly."

next time he would fuck you even harder, faster. he wanted to absolutely drunk on his cock, like it was only thing you knew. and since he was so blessed to be the one to take your virginity, he wouldn't let anyone else inside you.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento nanami #nanami x fem!reader

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slvttyplum · 24 days

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toji taught you how to ride dick and how to ride it good, to the point where his toes were curling, his eyes were rolling to the top of his eyelids, and his hands were gripped onto your ass for dear life.

once you were on top, you couldn’t stop; his mouth would get dry and his hands would get sweaty as he watched your every move, waiting for you to do something. first you’ll tease him and slowly slide yourself up and down on him, and when he's caught off guard, you'll quicken the pace.

his eyes fluttering as he tries to catch up to you, but at that time he was already going to finish. he hated when you were on, but he loved how it made him feel. how your pussy felt sliding up and down on him as he tried to keep his moans to a minimum, but you knew how good it made him feel and how he needed a break from beating your pussy in from the back, so this was the next best choice.

at first, you were nervous to get on top because you didn’t know what you were doing, but toji changed that around real quick and taught you. telling you how to move your hips and to keep your feet planted and not to slam down on him too hard, the whole course, and just like that, you learned how to ride him so well that he was whimpering.

his hands changing from your hips to your ass every second to see which was more stable for him to keep his hands on, deciding to just keep his hands on your ass because it felt better.

sometimes you would get carried away though, your hands planted on his shoulders, and you started to slam down on his harder, the tip of his dick touching your sweet each time, making your stomach cave in and your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“slow… go slow.” trying to tell you to slow the fuck down, but you were worried about finishing on his dick, toji was way ahead of you when you felt his cum leak into you and slide down your aching core, slamming back into you. this was the quickest way to make him cum, if you were bouncing up and down on him for a minute, then just know he was going to cum in the next one.

that’s what makes him so cute sometimes; he just couldn’t resist you even if he wanted to, his eyes going dark whenever you leaned down to give him a kiss, his cum leaking into you over and over again.

mr. tough guy that finished in under five minutes whenever you were bouncing up and down on him while he held his breath, trying to focus on anything and everything else. there was something about that position that made him want to finish inside of you and not apologize or have any regrets about it. it’s like you were tighter whenever you were tight, wrapped around him as you slid up and down quickly, giving him no time to react.

if he didn’t have time to react, he would whimper under you, your hand sliding on his face and your lips on his giving him a peck as you go faster. toji would even beg you not to go fast so that he could have the mental strength to at least try not to cum from you bouncing up and down on him, but you never listened. that's what made riding him fun.

since he taught you how to ride him, what better way to pay him back than to make him cum from just that? and he hated that you reminded him of that. he should’ve just kept you in the dark about how to ride him, but then he wouldn’t have you wrapped around him like you are now; he just hated how he reacted to your every touch.

“fuck… baby, just slow it down, please.” words that would usually never come out of his mouth slipped out when his cum was inching towards the tip of his dick. he was begging you to slow down, and even though it was cute, you just couldn’t give him what he wanted. this was a sight you barely got to see, so you tried to milk him out as much as you could while you were on top of him.

the results were stunning.

his cum leaking out of you every time you bounced on him, fucking his cum deep inside of you while more poured out of him.

one time tears were pouring out of his eyes form how good you were riding him. he didn’t even want you to stop until he noticed that tears were sliding down his cheeks. even though he wanted you to stop, you didn’t.

and so you kept going until your legs were giving out and weak, his chest rising and falling as he blabbered to himself how much he hated you but what he actually meant was.

“i love you so much.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #toji smut #toji x y/n #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji

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gutsby · 4 months

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Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2 | Part 3

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin’ quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”

#NO ONE SPEAK TO ME FOR AT LEAST A WEEK #THIS IS DISGUSTING #I AM DISGUSTING #DO NOT PERCEIVE ME PLEASEJE HAHAHAHAH #brain rot ❤️#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 23 days

Text

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex

Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.

That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.

It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby.

You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—

I don’t want you to get bored.

It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days.

Art Donaldson.

You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage.

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks.

You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine.

“We’ll start with the basics.”

Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go.

Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.”

On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him.

You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you.

But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace.

“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.”

Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days.

“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches.

“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?”

He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?”

He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit.

“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.”

“Lily?”

A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.”

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.

“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.”

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?”

“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?”

“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.”

“...He seems to be pretty busy.”

“He is.”

“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?”

“Play tennis.”

He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound.

“It shows, you know,” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.”

You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.

“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm.

“Just good?” He plies.

“The best. A real pro.”

His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little.

The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat.

“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?”

“She’s killing it.”

You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it.

“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes.

“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.”

“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds.

“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—

“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.”

“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.”

You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.

“Maybe.”

You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him.

His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw.

When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap.

Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies.

He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud.

It spurs you to lunge a little too far.

The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side.

“What hurts?”

“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.”

For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle.

When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand.

You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?”

“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort.

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”

“I'm still going, don't worry about that."

“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns.

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.”

Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips.

“Of course.”

“How’s the ankle?”

It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again.

You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks.

“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.”

“Good enough to walk on?”

Hardly.

“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.

“I have,” You insist, “All day.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.”

“You can tell him no, you know.”

Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again?

You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up.

I invited Art.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all.

Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days.

It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely.

You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room.

“Almost ready in here?” He asks.

“All set!”

He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile.

You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.

The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds.

You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—

Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests.

You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself.

“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves.

“Wanted to come say hi.”

“Well. Hi.”

You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet.

“Thanks for the invite.”

“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours.

“He isn’t taking care of you.”

“My ankle is fine.”

“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down.

Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—”

He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh.

You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip.

“Condom?” He asks.

“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.

“Art.”

“Sssh.”

“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip.

“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—”

“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.”

“Art—”

“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?”

“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm.

“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties.

“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room.

“Can I see you?”

It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.

“You just saw me,” You remind him.

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies.

“Where?”

“I’ll send an address.”

You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk.

“...You regret it?” He asks.

“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.

“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do.

You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck.

“Is this Lily?” You ask.

“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.”

“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.”

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully.

“Art?”

“Yeah?”

“Why am I here?”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer.

“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.”

Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”

“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.”

When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up.

And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.

"What time is he home tonight?"

You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.

But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.

"I don't know," You admit. "Late."

"...Could stay."

"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."

Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it."

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."

He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"

You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Art Donaldson x Reader #Art Donaldson x You #Art Donaldson/Reader #Art Donaldson/You #Art Donaldson fic #Art Donaldson imagine #the pro

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fairy-angel222 · 19 days

Text

Toji stretches you out to the max when he fucks you. Your pussy gripping snugly onto his thick cock as you struggle to take him all. Letting out little whiny cries when he pushes deeper into you. His hand rubbing soothingly over the bulge in your stomach with a teasing smirk. “Would you look at that baby, ‘m so deep in there.. you feel that?” He groans, thrusing up harshly just to watch his tip visibly push at your skin.

He’s thrusting into you so good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as he fucks you deep, balls slapping noisily onto your ass as your pussy weeps messily onto his cock. “Pussy’s still struggling to take me huh,” He breathes, thumb reaching down to rub small circles on your clit. Watching as your back arches off of the bed with a loud moan. Your wet lashes blinking up at him as your lips part in a string of adorable noises.

You can’t think, eyes rolling back as you babble his name dumbly. His large hand wrapping around your neck to capture your lips on his. Sloppily locking your tongue with his till you’re drooling onto your chest, allowing him to swallow all your muffled sobs of pleasure. He’s hitting that spot so perfectly, and you find yourself shaking beneath him when his free hand reaches down to press onto your stomach.

The man softly kisses away your tears with a hum when you beg him to cum. Your vision blurring with a small scream when he gives you the okay. Clenching down tightly before lewdly squirting onto him. “Fuckk sweetheart, pussy’s so wet she’s practically talking t’ me right now. Wants me to pump her full of my cum doesn’t she?” He grunts, cock twitching when you nod with a moan. “Uh huh— please do.”

His movements slow down, panting heavily as he comes to a stop inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could till you were skin to skin, his tip taking its rightful place at your cervix’s entrance.

You feel yourself getting fuller when he releases into you. Ropes after ropes of the thick substance painting your walls thoroughly in white.

You whimper when it refuses to end, his cum continuously spurting out of him with bo signs of stopping. After all, you should have known by now that his balls hold twice the amount of cum that they should.

Your legs threaten to close around him when you start getting filled to the brim, his cum somehow seeping past his cock to run down your ass and onto the sheets below. “T-toji, there’s so muchh. ‘M stuffed.” You whine with a sniffle, your boyfriend only shoving your legs back open with a faux pout.

“I know sweet girl but i’ve gotta empty it all inside that pretty lil’ cunt of yours kay? Just lay there n’ take it like a good girl.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 4 months

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✨Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Headcanons✨

Sub/Switch and you know I'm right! He loves when you call the shots

In a more dominant role, he's extremely gentle, makes sure you're okay throughout

Kissing is a must with him, he loves the feeling of your lips! Your make out sessions could go on for a while

He explores your body with his hands as much as he can, touching every single inch of you. He loves your thighs and stomach the most, but he can never resist groping your tits and burying his face in them

It's extremely important to both of you that you're having fun and laughing, you love being silly together when doing the deed <3

Loves pet names!! For you, it's "(my) love", "sweetheart", "duckling", and "angel". For him, he likes to be called "baby", "good boy", and "Luci"

Loves marking you as his, be it hickies or gentle scratches, he loves knowing you're his (bites down on your neck and shoulder A LOT)

EXTREMELY SENSITIVE, this man gets hard from the slightest of touches! He gets embarrassed but you love it!

Around a 7-7.5 inch cock when hard, normal girth but veiny!

WILL EAT YOU OUT FOR HOURS!! I'm talking non-stop cunnilingus, he loves the taste of you and he loves you bringing you to multiple orgasms! Your moans turn him on to an unhealthy degree

Definitely more of a giver but will never turn down a blowjob from you, he gets SUPER red in the face when you look up at him while you suck him off

He's not extremely kinky but is willing to try most things at least once if you bring it up!

When subbing, he loves to watch you bounce on his cock, using him as you please.

Even with his sensitivity, he loves being edged, not being allowed to cum until you say so. He thrives on being brought to the edge only for you to stop moving and have him beg for you to let him cum (his whimpers are EVERYTHING)

He's very vocal! No just with his moans and whimpers, but he loves talking to you in the heat of the moment, king of whispering sweet nothings; "you feel so good, my angel", "my little duckling"

Pegging!!! He's scared to admit at first, but when he opens up about it, you're more than happy to oblige

Always has you cum first, making you feel good is the most important thing to him

When he thrusts into you, it always starts at a slow and gentle pace, only picking up speed when he's close to an orgasm

You always know when he's about to cum, he scrunches his face real tight and his breathing becomes very labored, your name is the only thing he can say

CREAMPIES BABY, all day every day, absolutely loves cumming inside you! He thinks it's super hot when you swallow his cum too

He has a very high sex drive when it comes to you, you could have multiple rounds a day and he's still want more of you!

Aftercare is everything! Cuddles are his favorite, he could be the big spoon or little spoon, depending on how he feels

He loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, peppering kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder, NEEDS to hold your hand and interlock your fingers

But he also loves being held, especially after subbing, he needs a lot of reassurance, he adores when you tell him how much you love him and care for him

Falling asleep in each other's arms is his own version of heaven <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #i need jesus #i will never be forgiven for this lol

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screampied · 1 month

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‘ DARLIN’ CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE ? ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. if you knew you’d be sandwiched between two of your dad’s colleagues, you’d—actually let’s not finish that sentence. turns out you get walked in on by shiu kong, toji’s best friend who’s also your ex boyfriend. awkward…

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, toji & shiu kong, threeśome, age gap + (reader's over twenty), unprotected, shiu walks in on you and toji, size kink, cowgirl dp, sucking toji's nipples, praise, degradation, shotgunning, double penn, overstim, spit, squírting, spanking, face-fucking, cunnìllingus.

dbf! toji masterlist.

oh, everything felt like a fever dream…

one of those dreams that was so good that you just never wanted to wake up from—yeah, those ones. it’s been quite some time since your little fling with your father’s best friend took off, as if you’d even call it a 'fling' anymore. perhaps you were getting a bit too attached. maybe he was too, the both of you ended up screwing around literally any chance you got. so secretive, you’d almost gotten caught when your panties were found that one time. thankfully, toji came up with some bullshit excuse that was surprisingly believed.

he had a single taste of you, just a taste and he was whipped. addicted just like that. it was a sunday evening, pretty quiet and you were currently drying yourself off from the shower. toji came out right after you, and he lifted you, pressing a sweet wet kiss near the corner of your lips. “mhm. how much time do we have, baby?”

“like an hour,” you’d mumble, your legs swiftly locking around his slim waist. toji’s kisses were always so sloppy and rough, a faint touch of passion trodding underneath before his hand found its way near your ass again. a towel wrapped around his waist, another wrapped around your torso, so wet. “i think he’s still out.”

“so i have ya all to myself again,” he rasps, leading you towards the bed, his warm lips coat a plethora of steamy kisses all down your collarbone before placing you down. “perfect.”

although, perhaps it wasn’t as perfect as toji initially thought. because who knew you’d get walked in on—again? not by your father thankfully, but shiu kong, toji’s long-time best friend, and no one other than your one and only ex-boyfriend.

shit.

you moan, feeling him lie you back down towards the mattress. toji stares at you, such an appetizing stare. he was feral, feral for you.

the two of you had been going at it for hours just moments ago in the shower—yet he wasn’t exactly finished with you. toji had stamina equivalent to a hefty stallion, he showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever.

your eyes peer at his body, his perfectly sculpted hardened pecs— he was a statue, his entire frame had you soaked. momentarily, he then starts to slowly peel your towel off. he’s slow, basking in your beauty, seeing your body was a sight he doesn’t think he’d ever get used to.

“damn. look at this perfect fuckin’ body,” he huffs out, taking in every sight of you. every curve, every angle . .

you felt your heart throb for a moment before he leans in to plant a multitude of chaste kisses near your tummy. toji then lolls his tongue out briefly, creating a wet trail to lick way down between your legs. “messy girl. ‘s still running down y’er thighs.”

“clean it off me then.” you’d tease him, parting your legs ever further for him.

toji tsks, kissing his teeth before brushing a thumb between the slit of your folds. so damp, so swollen . . . swollen just from a few moments ago.

you watch as he gets on the bed, it sinks down a tad bit from his weight — a springing noise commences in the process. he decides to be a mere tease and blows against your pussy. near the very entrance part. the moment he watches you twitch as a response, he snickers. “ooooh. someone’s eager. look at how ya respond from just a little blow, baby.”

“t …. toji,” you’d choke out, grabbing onto the ruffled slightly wet strands of his hair. “hurry up ‘n just finish.”

“nah. girl. what i tell ya ‘bout rushing me?” he grouses, and his abrupt switch of attitude made you throb.

you whimper once you watch him graze a thumb down your sopping cunt. your body was still immensely wet from the shower, he brings a single kiss towards your folds before lapping up the remnants of your syrupy flavor. “now shut the fuck up ‘n let me enjoy my meal—”

the entire atmosphere gets indecorously ruined once your door opens, and the familiar person standing there is the last person you’d expect to meet eyes with.

“…….oh my,” a low rasp escapes from his mouth, and you sit up as well as does toji. there stood shiu kong, in nothing but his usual attractive business attire. his hands were deeply buried into the fronts of his pockets, and a typical lit cigarette stuck out of his mouth. “fushigurooo?”

“… shiu?” you’d mutter, and toji glances at you.

“psh. don’t tell me you two know each other,” toji dramatically rolls his eyes, getting up to close your sprawled out legs for him. your mouth suddenly felt dry and shiu stares at you with the most blank, unreadable expression.

you awkwardly squeeze your thighs together. “uh, sorta.”

“sorta…? sorta?” shiu replies, and he’s amused. you lowly grumble to yourself, finding this entire situation crazily awkward. better yet, how’d he even—you had too many unanswered questions. “aw. now doll, don’t try ‘ta be all smug in front of this cheap bastard. she means to say, we used to be a thing.”

toji grows quiet before, clicking his tongue out of sheer annoyance before scoffing. “you’re joking.”

the entire room felt so hot, you had the most dumbest expression on your face the entire time.

talk about timing . . seems like the universe was never on your side.

your ex-boyfriend and the guy you were currently messing around with in the same room? only to discover that they had history also. talk about a small fucking world. you clear your throat, shielding your body with a cover before mutterng. “...shiu, why are you—”

“did ya forget, doll? i’m your dad’s handler,” shiu says with a mere bland tone. he shifts his weight before pulling his hands out his pockets. his posture was straight and he fixes his collar. the band of his watch glimmers in the light, so flashy.

god, he was so sexy…

forevermore with a cigarette sticking between his pink lips, his gaze that he gave you was so intimate. hooded eyes that you always got lost in, you could never forget shiu. “told your father i had to use the men’s room, only to find out you’re getting all nasty for this bum,” and then he smirks. “woah. toji you grew two inches.”

you were smart enough to know shiu was talking about toji’s height..

“…doll,” toji repeats with a mocking sneer, ignoring his little comment.

perhaps you were a bit delusional, but judging from toji’s tone he sounds… jealous? “still can’t believe you dated this guy,” he yawns, sitting up to strech before glancing at you. “who’s better in bed?”

“...huh?” you murmur, not expecting a question as such as that. again, the entire room felt thick of hot tensed air. you squeezed your thighs shut before realizing both of them were giving you the same intrigued stare. they favored each other if you squinted.

mayhaps your type was quite obvious. older guys with dark hair, tall and buff … the list continues to go on and on. “um, probably—”

“girl, don’t answer that.” toji grumbles, immediately cutting you off from speaking any further.

shiu snickers, making himself comfortable by sitting between the both of you. “awh. mad that she was gonna say me, toji toji?”

“call me that again ‘n you’ll be six feet under, shiu.” he stares at him, and you nearly gasp once you feel toji softly place his hand down near your thigh. his touch . . . it never failed to make you practically weak in the knees.

you feel yourself growing more hot the more toji gingerly skims a thum between your squeezed thighs before you speak, “so you two know each other?”

“yeahh, we fuck on the low.” shiu shrugs, and that makes the tips of toji’s ears boil. the difference between toji and shiu was somewhat cute yet humorous. toji was more laid back and stern whilst shiu was more playful and perhaps even a little dominant. “toji would never admit it though.”

“…..we’re just close friends,” toji bleats, and a near cute pout tugs on his lips. he’s still holding onto your thigh, yet it starts to go higher and you had to restrain yourself from moaning. “he works for me too or whatever,” and that’s when toji leans in close to you, scudding a thumb near your chin. “enough about him though.”

firmly, toji grips your chin before closing the remaining distance with a kiss. a rough kiss. you already lost whatever composure you had left, moaning right into his mouth the moment his lips mashed against yours. minty, he always had such a sweet candied flavor to him.

toji groans himself, feeling your tongue swiftly glide against his, giving it a brief suck.

the way you were somehwat of a . . . sloppy kisser so to speak, he always found it so cute. you breathe through your nose, warm jagged breaths colliding amongst each other before suddenly you’re pulled away abruptly.

your peripherals spot shiu lingering near the corner of you. you turn while he holds your chin now, removing his cigarette before whispering in a low, “mmm. may i get a taste too, doll?”

“y—yes,” you mutter immensely, and you don’t even realize how fast you said it before shiu swipes a thumb against your bottom lip. so shiny, he’s missed your lips—he remembers how you taste, it was saved all the way in the back of his mind. he stares at you for a long while, a quite stern yet relaxed expression.

“now now, open that mouth for me,” he whispers, and you listen without even questioning. “just like that, goooood girl . .”

toji watches the two of you. he’s got the biggest scowl on his face and its adorable.

it’s not like you two were a thing or anything, but he wasn’t fond of sharing his new favorite girl.

once you part your spit-glossed lips, shiu blows a nice amount of smoke into your mouth. a decent sum of smoke. you moan, wanting him to kiss you and after long seconds later, he finally does. shiu’s kisses were more sincere and passionate. it was as if he was waiting to kiss you again for ages, it felt natural. you couldn’t lie to yourself, you missed shiu . . a lot more than you wanted to admit probably. nothing relatively bad caused the two of you to break up. the two of you just separate and decided to be just friends, but did friends kiss the way you and him were doing?

probably… not.

a concoction of your own saliva concisely mixes with his, and you can still taste the rough scented smoke on his tongue. you feel yourself throb, grazing your tongue near his before toji pulls you off.

“okay that’s enough,” toji growls, and then you watch as he wipes your lips. you could tell he wanted more of you, and not like toji would ever admit it, but . . seeing you kiss shiu turned him on a little. “tell me,” he says, and his thumb runs across near your chin. he was so close to your lips, nearly inches apart from kissing you again. “who do you want more? me or that idiot?”

you keek at the two of them, both exchanging the same lust filled gaze before you hum, merely out of breath. “i— i want both..”

“greedy girl,” shiu snickers, moving a few strands of hair away from your face. shiu’s right beside you before he makes you sit right on his lap. you hear toji grumble before he starts to peel the cover that was shielding the top half of your body off. “i bet you’re still a mess from toji, huh,” and he gently reaches in between your legs to rub against your slick entrance. you moan, feeling shiu drag two fingers inside. he feels the residuum of toji’s cum that filled you to the brim, merely leaking all out before he chortles. “my, what a dirty girl. how’s it feel when i do . . this?”

you mewl out another whimper, feeling him curl his fingers further inside before shiu runs it against your swollen slit. “g—good,” and then you stare at toji who’s got the cutest jealous scowl. “toji . . kiss me.”

“don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do,” toji carps, and he cups your face, kissing you anyway. you lean into his embrace, and that’s when you feel shiu’s knee propped up right underneath you—right between your precious thighs.

you moan, your body moving rhythmically before sooner than you knew it, you were riding shiu’s thigh, you hear shiu cackle, a hand teasingly sliding up your frame. he bounces his thigh and a tiny squeal leaves past your lips as toji’s tongue roughly swipes against yours. you felt so hot, being felt by two men—two men that wanted you just as bad as you wanted them. the friction, it had you whimpering all inside toji’s mouth, you couldn’t stay still and they both found it adorable.

“so eager,” shiu murmurs, a hand squeezing against your hip. his roughly textured fingers always felt soft on you, you remembered his touch like it never left your body.

(mainly because it didn’t, it never did…)

you were still a bit damp from your shower, nearly dried off when shiu leans in to kiss near your neck. “toji doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you,” he whispers, taking a fleeting pause between each pull away he makes. “jus’ look at how y’er riding my thigh right now, doll. you missed this, missed me.”

toji turns your head to focus strictly on him now, deepening the passionate kiss before he bites gingerly near your bottom lip. you moan, your arms slinging around his neck before he eventually breaks away.

“shut up, shiu,” he scoffs before a hand trails down towards your ass, he gives it a firm squeeze before spanking it. “you want both of us, princess? ‘n look at me when you answer.”

the entire room felt clouded with heat — the tension, you could feel it from a mile away. you were pulsing, yet you were most likely sure it wasn’t your heart but instead right between your legs. you stare into toji’s eyes, murmuring out a sweet, “yes, i want you both,” and toji’s thumb continues to run against your lower lip. he teasingly pulls it down, darkened eyes flickering towards your mouth before you moan. “please...”

“such good manners for a good girl,” shiu utters, and he continues to twitch his thigh against your legs. you were still insanely sensitive thanks to toji earlier, feeling his hand rub right near the inner part of your thigh. the way his pants against your leg creates so much friction, you started to spasm—it was that easy. “i bet i can make you finish quicker than toji ever could.”

“oh please. is that a challenge?” toji gruffs, and he suddenly makes you lie flat on your back.

you swore things like this only happened in the movies—being shared between two hot men, coincidentally enough, you had some sort of history with the both of them. more-so shiu, toji was just a mere fling, nothing more . . or was it? “don’t get so cocky. i last longer than you anyways.”

“yeah? and how would you know?” shiu snickers, placing his cigarette back between his lips.

“ . . . . ”

their banter was so annoying yet it was practically laughable. you eye as they both sat over you, shiu makes you suddenly sit up before you’re laid flat on all fours. your palms dig into the silk cushioned sheets and toji’s right in front of you. “pretty girl,” he huffs out in a rough voice, grabbing ahold of your chin. “stick out that tongue ‘n say ah for me, baby.”

you comply with ease, slowly rolling out your tongue and toji groans.

always so obedient, you watch as he removes his own shower towel before being met with his hefty shaft. you could never get used to the sight, despite how feral he had you just moments ago.

“y’er pretty but you’d look even prettier with this bratty mouth stuffed all full,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. you moan, feeling as toji rubs and smears his fat tip against your lips. he then smacks against your tongue and you moan, oh so desperate for him to hurry. the way your tongue tried to sneak a lick but couldn’t due to the movements, cute…

toji’s tip was dashingly pretty, swollen with a pearly pink tip. he had a few specks of black hair near his base, the carpet most certainly matched the drapes. your tongue strums against the head before he grips a handful of your hair strands. a brief yank that makes you slightly jolt forward earns a sweetened moans from you.

“toji’s made such a mess out of you, huh,” shiu says from behind you, and you gasp once you feel him bring a kiss towards your ass. his kisses were sweet and gentle, he brings a single sharp spank to your ass simply to watch the recoil jitter right before his eyes and he grins. “mhm. missed this ass. look at how happy she is to see me again.”

your back arch you had going on was immaculate, hands propped into the fat sheets of the bed—your eyes remained focused on toji the entire time, slowly but surely lapping up the remaining sprinkles of pre that coat his tip near his frenulum. his most weak spot…

you made sure to take your time, purely savoring his sweet yet bitter taste. he groans, pulling your head forward just a second before you whine once you feel shiu’s tongue run against your soaked entrance.

“aw. toji got ya all soaked already? damn shame,” shiu grits, and your eyes suddenly droop out of pure pleasure the moment he delves his tongue right between your slit. you couldn’t lie, you missed his long tongue—so long, it reached many many places.

his technique was always killer, a bit different than toji. he preferred eating you from the back, the tip of his hooked nose prods everywhere, getting damper and damper in the process. he removes his cigarette of course before he dives in, and you could barely concentrate. you couldn’t process anything in that small brain of yours. it was merely impossible.

“eyes up here, girl,” toji reminds you in a rough pitched voice, bringing your head to face him once more. you felt the sensation brew and brew, nerves forevermore pulsing through your veins. your mouth was full, toji’s cock was so fat that strands of your own spit starts to seep out near the corners of your lips. pouring down like a waterfall, you were a drenched mess.

and he loved it.

“oh fuckin’ shit, how ‘bout that? y’er drooling for me,” he scoffs, bringing a thumb to wipe it all away. “such a mess,” and then he slowly thrusts his hips into your mouth, making you cling onto his beefy thighs. “such . . a . . fuckin’ . . messsss,” he’d coo gruffly between thrusts. you could savor his taste forever, such thick balls reaching to the very back of your throat. “how’s it taste. the meal okay?”

it was a mere joke, he knew you couldn’t physically reply due to your throat being blocked with such bulky inches of dick, but you nod.

“yeah? yeah. best meal you’ve ever fuckin’ had. don’t forget it.”

you whine, feeling shiu’s tongue resume against your clit. he knew just where to go, to pivot and slither his tongue past all the right spots. he’s always been a sloppy eater, occasionally breaking away to spit right onto your swollen folds. it was his favorite part. spitting on your cunt only to clean it up happily with his tongue.

“she’s so pretty,” he sighs, and then that’s when he blows on your pussy—straight on it. your eyes start to roll back, it was dramatic, really…

“get her niiiiice ‘n wet. i know toji always fails at that part,” shiu jibes, and that earns a vexed glare from toji. you tremble within him, his tongue being practically no match for you. you part your lips, nearly gagging once toji reaches way past near the roof of your mouth. “ooooh. that spot, baby?” he purrs in a seductive voice, watching his own spit trickle right in between your puffed folds. it was a sight to witness, glistening spit making your entire clit sheeny.

“she’s gonna cum, shiu,” toji groans, basically guiding your head by this point. you bobble back and forth, back and forth, a hand then wrapping around his erect shaft. your thumb skims against the few veins that coat near his dick, and you continue to moan out sweet muffled whimpers. so close, you could nearly taste your candied orgasm approaching.

shiu hums, two rough hands spreading your ass a bit further before he starts to create loooong sloppy sucks.

by that point, you were just near the edge. he was so good, you felt your nipples start to perk and tense—you whine, still taking toji into your mouth before you watch toji start to moan louder too. the both of you were approaching quickly, he huffs out a single breath before giving you a single head pat. “make me cum girl, fuckin’ do it.”

you blink thrice, feeling your eyes become watery for a brief moment. gradually, you swipe your tongue against his tip before sinking deeper down. your throat was so compatible, compatible with his inches. so much saliva ran down the sides of your mouth and down your chest. he had to keep wiping it like a true gentlemen.

gentleman was… a word.

waves started to grow, rising and rising. the build up of it all was purely exultant, euphoric even…

for the both of you, it felt so hypnotizing. equivalent to a tsunami about to create total havoc, he felt the ache in his thighs subside before building back up again. your maw lowers just a tad bit. and toji groans lowly, making your head go back and forth until he heard those sweet gagging sounds once more.

he was really that big, you always wonder how he even fit inside your mouth sometimes—he always made it for though…. just for you.

his favorite girl.

the moment toji cums, it’s so much.

it comes out in warm spurts. ropes and ropes galore.

your tongue catches it all, making sure to not miss a single drop. it tasted sweetly bitter, sugary but bitter. he shakes a bit, a hand still tightly grabbing onto the crown of your head as he finishes down your throat. whenever he came, he came a lot. toji never failed to leave your throat full, loaded with such velvety ropes of his honeyed flavor. “s-shittt,” he’d pant, feeling his chest tighten. hearing toji stutter was always cute, the swear that left past his lips sounded so enchanting. he swallows, and whilst he pulls out his now flaccid length, he grumbles. “stick that shit out for me.”

you loll out your tongue yet again, showing him that you proudly swallowed it all and he wipes a few beads from his forehead, feeling at such a high, “….phew girl.”

you end up finishing shortly afterward, your body jerking against shiu’s tongue. it felt so intense, you shook violently, legs shaking—contractions arising everywhere. his tongue slows down, still against your clit before the endorphins that ran through your body waves and roams all throughout. you bit your lip, finally coming undone and your moan was so pitchy and loud.

“forgot how noisy ya usually get,” shiu remarks, and you felt yourself still profusely throbbing. you swipe a tongue over your lips before moaning. once shiu gifts your ass with a final mean spank, it’s so rough. “awh,” and then he shifts his gaze towards toji—a very flustered-and-out-of-breath toji. “look at toji babygirl. ‘s all speechless. is he usually like this?”

“n—no,” you spat, intaking a sharp breath before sitting upright. your entire body still felt warm, tingles running all over before you stare at toji yourself.

he glares at the two of you, suddenly feeling cornered before sternly.

“shut the fuck up. ‘m not flustered,” and then he grabs ahold of your arm. softly, he pulls you into his chest before he falls back. “any-fuckin’-way,”we’re not finished here, little girl. we haven’t even gotten to the best part,” and you watch as he gives himself a few concise strokes. he was surprisingly hard a bit, despite his previous release. “shiu, get over here.”

“ah, so demanding,” he sneers. with glossy eyes, you reach for shiu’s black long slacks, giving it a cute tug. he hums out in sheer amusement, watching your fingers unzip near the fly of his pants and you could make out the bulge that was eagerly presenting itself. he moves closer, closing the distance between the two of you before toji briefly lifts you up. “oh i see,” he whispers, and then you feel shiu’s hands softly graze against your waist. “doll, can you handle both of us inside?”

“y— yes,” you quickly reply, throwing your arms over toji. he snickers at you, that same scar that runs across his lip contorting each time his facial structure twitches. again, this entire thing—this entire scenario, it felt like a dream. a fever dream.

a fever dream, you never wanted to wake up.

not now, not ever.

“yeahhh? let’s see,” shiu breathes, and he gingerly brings his hands towards your hips.

thumbs of his gently presses into your skin before he picks you up. by now, you’re hovering over toji’s angry tip. toji leans back, all manspread with that annoying sly grin. he’s waiting, awaiting patiently. he was never a patient man, but for you, maybe that could have been changed.

you moan, slowly but gradually sinking down onto toji’s thick length.

the sounds your cunt made upon impact was so lewd, salacious squelch after squelch—it ringed into your ears, so tediously repetitive. as you got lowered down onto toji, you wriggle your hips a bit, grinding forward and he grunts. “don’t fuckin’ do that,” he mutters, spanking you. “stay the fuck still.”

shiu gazes from afar, and that’s when he whips out his own hardened shaft — he breathes, smothering his glossed lips together before preparing to go inside of you too. into somewhere where it wasn’t so occupied, you let off a soft whimper once he inserts himself, real slow.

you were a ticking time bomb, gnawing down on your lip as you started to feel madly stuffed. you’ve felt stuffed by toji, but with them both? you felt extra stuffed, double stuffed even..

“s-shiu ‘s big,” you moan, feeling him slowly ease his way inside—everything felt so hot. your ears, the very tips of them was probably fuming with a scorching temperature by now. “fuckkkk.”

“always the right size for you, baby girl,” shiu huffs out, a thumb strumming against your sides. you stare at toji and he’s got the biggest pout on his face. the fact that you two had history irked him for reason—again, he shouldn’t care. it shouldn’t bother him. the two of you weren’t even together but still. it pissed him off, he felt threatened—as if he had some sort of competition against his best friend. “there we go, easy now. bare with me,” and his voice was so low, right up against your ear. being double stuffed between the two of them, you whine. your hand placement was right onto toji’s beefy pecs before you tap on him, yearning desperately for his attention.

“what.” toji grumbles, his tone was sharp and he grips onto your waist just as you’re about there at taking both of them fully. his pout was cute, briefly glancing at shiu who was propped right up behind you.

his pecs were so soft, chiseled even. it flexed a bit each time you ran a finger against his skin and he shudders a bit. “can i…” you mumble, a quick short second stare averts towards his nipples. they were so hardened—perky, you felt awkward at even asking but they were so big, literally right in your face. “can i suck on them?”

“girl what?”

you moan, starting to move forward against the both of them, a pace starting—so incredibly stuffed, they both reached deep inside of both holes before you clench. you huff out a single breath before repeating yourself. “i said can i—”

“i ain’t deaf, i heard what ya said,” he responds, bringing the left cheek of your ass a brief squeeze. “you wanna suck on my … nipples?”

“awhhh. don’t be mean, let her suck toji. i’d suck too,” shiu cackles, and he starts up a jerking rhythm. you moan out, feeling the girth of them both wholly stretch you out. it felt too good, drool-worthy. “your tits, i mean—pecs are fuckin’ huge man.”

“shut up. y’er both fuckin’ weirdos,” toji swats, clearly irritated. it was cute, he was cute. he then averts his darkened green eyes back towards you, pleading with your eyes. “fuck. fine….fine. just not so rough, ‘m sensitive there.”

you smile, leaning near his chest before softly rolling your tongue against his nipple near his left chest.

you earn an abrupt strained moan from toji, and he wasn’t kidding. he really was sensitive there, his head throws back slightly—so much was occurring that you kind of forget how you were being stuffed full of not only one cock but two. you were quite vocal yourself. slumped against toji as you start to suck on his nipples, you gingerly nibble against it and he slips off a whine.

“aw, doll. you got him soundin’ like a girl.” shiu titters, and his rhythm had you moaning with toji’s pec right into your mouth—you felt your mouth ‘pop’ in surprise, feeling shiu’s fingers slither down against your back. his touch, it was so warm. the way he’d strum his fingers alongside your back had you throbbing desperately for more.

“s—shut up man,” toji groans, a hand grabbing onto your head. he gives it an awkward pat, not exactly wanting you to stop because it feels good. the way you flick your tongue against his nipple, lathering it with your saliva—so lewd, he’s always loved that part about you. he ruffles your hair and for a split second you can see that his eyes sort of soften. “shit baby. just like that…”

toji’s rough and mean demeanor went away for a moment it seems.

you whimper once you’re brought back to reality. reality of feeling yourself soak up both shafts buried deep inside of you, buried to the very hilts. your cunt pulsed and pulsed as you’re just rutting back and forth against him. you’re jerking, it was so repetitive as the bed creaks. it created the same harmonic noises of squeaks and creaks, forevermore ringing into both of your twitching ears.

“f-fuckin’ freaky girl,” he breathes through clenched teeth, watching as your eyes playfully linger up at him. “no one’s ever— did that to me before.”

your body felt so warm against theirs, both bodies colliding against you—you felt the pace quicken, clenching down on both of them before a whine slides out. your mouth was still primarily occupied, sucking on toji’s nipple. with a muffled, “mhm,” you suck down a bit deeper, making sure to coat every part of the center of his pec with spit.

he stares at you the entire time with dark dilated pupils, sucking his teeth before he feels his cock twitch inside you.

he was turned on….

yet after a while it dawned on him, toji wasn’t gonna cum from being inside of you with shiu, he was gonna cum from you sucking on his sensitive nipples.

a hard reality to face, he was the epitome of embarrassed.

“fuck,” he growls, watching you still attach your lips against his nipples—shiu continues to stuff you full from behind, he starts to feel his breathing rapidly pick up. toji’s thigh aches as he’s just bouncing it against you. “shiu, quit fuckin’ looking at me like that.”

“like what?” he chortles, and you were approaching close too — it was coming quick, so quick that you could barely even fathom anything.

you were merely drooling against toji’s hardened pecs, feeling as if you were in heaven. you always did wonder what his pecs tasted like, and it didn’t disappoint. you moan, lapping your tongue up against his nipple once more before he groans out again. this time, it’s the low pitched moan he always does when he gets close. his jaw tightens and he spanks your ass, a rough smack that brings you back into reality again for the umpteenth time. shiu snickers, making you arch forward in toji a bit more before purring, “aw. gonna cum just from our girl suckin’ on y’er tits?”

our girl.

for some reason, shiu addressing you as his and toji’s girl made you throb a bit. actually, ‘a bit’ was quite the understatement. you were convulsing, stuck in a lewd frenzy as you were just spasming out. every few seconds you felt shiu’s thumb prod against the outer part of your hole, his strokes was slow yet deep and thoroughly thorough. same with toji, although he was starting to merely bottom out. more like he already was.

“fuckkk,” toji groans, and you suddenly lean in to kiss him. he moans right into your mouth, tasting bitter arousal all on his tongue. he pants heavily, short two second pants pouring into your mouth. wrapping his arms around you, he shudders from the sudden cold air that wafts against his bare chest.

he ends up finishing inside of you, such sloppy ropes of cum pouring right into you—you slump against his chest once more, intaking all of his warmth before squeezing him dry.

shiu was reaching his peak too, the more he picks up his frenetic pace, the more he was so close to give you another deep filling. it was so sticky, you felt the remains of toji’s sopping cum run down your dripping cunt, jerking forward against him you let off a moan before reaching down to touch yourself.

“ah. no touchin’ our pussy.” shiu swats your hand away softly, pinning it behind your back.

yet everything comes to a halt when your phone rings.

your ears twitch at the loud screeching ring of your ringtone, it was more closer to toji so you mutter.

“who is it?”

“y’er dad.” he replies, fat thumbs turning the brightness down on your phone whilst he squints.

“a-answer it. just tell him ‘m busy.” you whine in a shaky voice, merely feeling yourself about to burst right into both of them.

“okay.” toji snickers.

toji swipes the green button to accept the incoming call, putting it on speaker for you all to hear.

“heyyy honey… i was just calling to check on you. i had to go step out for a moment to buy some beer. want anything?”

“hey buddy,” toji snorts. “she said she’s busy.”

“toji?” your dad responds with a tone of pure confusion. there’s a long three second pause before he adds onto his sentence. “uh. what’re you doing with my daughter’s phone?”

“well shit. that’s a good question,” and you nudge on toji, watching him merely burst out into a straight goofy guffaw. you’re so close to your orgasm that your vision started to blur. stars clouded your entire eyesight, and you feel shiu guide your hips to its inevitable release. “heh. ‘m just joking man. she’s …….. takin’ the trash out. left her phone on the table.”

“oh okay! that’s so sweet of her, tell her i said thank you.”

“i’ll be sure to do that,” toji grunts, his thick base thwacking against you — he was still a bit sensitive from his previous release, and shiu ends up dumping a load into you after a while. you end up mimicking his actions, releasing yourself but toji has to cover your mouth. “since you asked, i’d take a pack of beer too. we still up for the game tonight?”

“yeah man! go packers!”

toji sneers, feeling you coat his entire lap with your slick arousal. you were soaked, a quavering mess before shiu pulls out.

“i’ll talk to you later though. drive safe,”

and he tosses the phone aside once your father replies with a cheery “alrighty then!” he was so oblivious. if toji hadn’t have been covering your mouth when you orgasmed, you were sure he was gonna hear. it was a lewd sight entirely, you started to suck on toji’s fingers and he eyes you with a sly smile. he wasn’t so whiney anymore, in fact— you ended up squirting on them both with them still shoved inside of you, so much too.

it came out so much, you were filled up with slick amounts of seed as well as damping yourself. you feel all against toji’s chest, moaning before shiu spins you around to kiss him. you lean into his touch, still tasting a good amount of smoke thay resides on his breath.

toji watches for a few long seconds before pulling you to kiss him instead—you moan, savoring both of their tastes before you feel toji’s fingers skim against the entrance of your filled up pussy.

“wonder how y’er dad would react at you doing this instead of taking the trash out. getting stuffed by his two friends, tchhh,” he mutters, delving two thick fingers into your cunt— he swirls it into a circular motion before pulling it out, staring at the mess that coats his digits. “shiu. c’mere.”

shiu inches towards toji before smirking. he gives his best friend a sly grin before humming. “yes, toji?”

“taste her for me.”

shiu lets toji slide his fingers into his mouth, and he sucks on them.

slowly, he glides his tongue across his fingers, tasting every inch. you found it a little hot as you watched, the way shiu stared at toji in such a playful gaze—you started to feel like the third wheel for a moment.

“mhm,” he mumbles, cleaning both of his fingers before he pulls it out. a pretty sheeny cobweb of spit left his mouth before he wipes his lips, dark irises focusing back towards you. “you taste so sweet on toji’s fingers, doll. like you always have.”

it was so filthy, they were filthy and you only wanted more…

you gasp once toji suddenly drags you off his lap, making you bend over for him. “i want more of a taste, bend the fuck over, princess.”

you do, being face first between shiu’s parted thighs and he gives you a subtle head pat, a thumb slides against your lips before he brushes his finger to make your jaw hang open.

you had heart eyes, metaphorically, not literally but even still—

a sweetened whimper pours from your glossed lips the moment toji’s tongue swipes against your folds, wasting no time to suck near your throbbing impulsing nub, tasting the aftermath that they both created with no shame whatsoever.

in front of you, you wrap a hand around shiu’s length, staring into his eyes before suddenly near the edge of the bed, you jolt at hearing your dad’s voice through the phone . . .

“what the actual fuck am i listening to?”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #shiu kong #cw sex mention

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tonycries · 2 months

Text

A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)

Synopsis. Smile for the camera - as best you can when you’re being absolutely wrecked in all sorts of ways underneath them anyway!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exhibitionism (Toji’s), mutual másturbation, phone séx, créampie, oral (female + male receiving), vibrators, bóudoir, manhandling, marking, Gojo is a menace, fíngering, dp, face-sitting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.8k

A/N. Was gonna add Sukuna but I feel like he’d hate modern technology.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The internet sensation

“Whaddaya say, you horny fuckers? Think she deserves to cum?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro is always one for extra cash. Who wasn’t, really? So when you approached him with a devious idea, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty girl?

He just didn’t think he’d be here - your bare legs splayed out on his lap, dripping cunt spread so shamefully, buzzing vibrator deafening over your pretty moans - all in front of that blinking camera. And the hundreds of thousands behind it.

“T-Toji, wan’ cum. Wanna cum so bad, please.” you mewl. Big, fat tears dripping down your cheeks at the way he’s been teasing you for so long now. You can barely make out the rush of comments flashing across the screen.

The camera captures everything so sinfully well. The way your cunt is completely soaked, clenching desperately around nothing as Toji slides the vibrator along your swollen folds. Circling your needy hole, just grazing your swollen clit. Teasing them just as much as you.

Pathetic fuckers, he thinks, but entertains their desperate comments anyway.

“Hmm, they’re saying I should let you cum, pretty.” he whispers in your ear, low and hoarse with need. “Saying I should be ‘nice.’”

He brings the vibrator - now glistening with your slick - to his lips. Licking a long, languid stripe up it, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue. Turning it ever-so-slightly towards the camera to show off what the fuckers behind it will never get, he hums dangerously, “What do you think, my girl?”

You gasp out a sob, uselessly trying to buck your hips toward where you needed him the most. “Please, Toji. Wanna cum, I’ll do anything.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, spreading your legs open even further with a feral groan.

In one, fluid motion, he buries the vibrator deep in your dripping cunt, relishing the surprised yelp that leaves your swollen lips. “Then show ‘em how much you like it, pretty. How much you love me not being ‘nice.’”

And that’s all that is said before he’s fucking you into you at an urgent, sinful pace. Pulling out all the way till the buzzing tip just circles your swollen folds, ramming into you with no care or concern for the burning stretch. Toji knew you liked it - besides, it was half the size of him anyway.

“C’mon, smile for the camera, pretty.” he grunts into your ear, “Tell ‘em how I make m’girl feel.”

You can barely choke out, “Ah! Oh- shit. S’good. Hngh-”

Blood rushes straight to his cock at the way you were taking it like such a good girl. Head lolling against his muscled shoulder as Toji pushes the vibrator in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Who makes you feel this good?”

Angling it just right to expertly hit against that one spot he knew would have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Ngh- Ah! You!” you whine, thighs quivering at both the burn of being so spread open and the electricity coursing through your veins at Toji’s relentless pace. Mind spinning, vision blurring, you barely register the hand snaking its way down down down.

A harsh thumb pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. “Wha- Toji hah-” you squeal as he starts drawing slow, tight little circles on it. Lazy and languid where he was fucking into you mercilessly like you were his lil’ toy right below.

“Tha’s right, my girl. Say it for all those lonely little fuckers behind the camera to hear.” He doesn’t stop thrusting the vibrator into you, instead speeding up his movements impossibly at the lewd squelches filling the heady air.

“You. No one- else- hngh-” you moan softly hips bucking up in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna- Ah ngh- m’gonna-”

“Say my name, pretty.”

“T-Toji! Hah-” you squeal deliriously, cumming desperately around the buzzing vibrator. Walls clenching as he continues to fuck you through it. A smug little smirk on his face as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed, body bowing jerkily into his.

Ah, you look so pretty like this. Those losers behind the screen were probably at the gates of heaven already.

In the haze of your orgasm, you barely hear the low murmur from above you. “Now, you horny fuckers. Think her pretty hole can take my cock at the same time?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The secret album

Geto Suguru doesn’t let anyone touch his phone - especially his photo gallery. Always turning off the screen from prying eyes, pocketing it safely before flashing an innocent grin.

But why? That one time Shoko stole his phone while he was in the bathroom revealed only a few blurry, aesthetic shots of you, the sky, and you. So what did that man have to hide?

Well, what she didn’t know is had she scrolled down just a bit more - before Geto ripped the phone from her hands - she’d have come across the treasure trove named with a simple “Love.”

Not one, not even tens - but hundreds upon hundreds of videos of you all falling apart underneath him.

Most of them favorited, all of them sorted so meticulously according to his tastes in a way that showed he spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. But it wasn’t enough to capture your perfection. It never was.

Which is probably why Geto had you sitting prettily on his face, juices spreading so lewdly across his mouth as he tonguefucked you into insanity.

The video was shaky, focusing in and out of the way your bruised lips dropped into a soft oh! as he bullies past your swollen folds.

It zooms in on the dazed expression on your face, eyes miles away. “Oh, Suguru. M-more” your broken moans crackle through the speaker. Just barely capturing the soft ah! ah! ah! escaping your lips each time Geto’s tongue dips into your sloppy hole.

Oh, this video was definitely going in his favorites.

“Take the phone, love. Show the camera how good I make you feel.” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, words hoarse with desire.

And Geto might love you on film - but this was your favorite part. When the camera flips and you see him in all his disheveled, sinful glory. “Ah- y’look so pretty under me, Sugu.”

Dark hair splayed out on the pillow, stray strands sticking to his forehead as he looks at you with hazy, pussy-drunk eyes. His ringed fingers holding your thighs apart in a bruising grip. Lips glossy and swollen as they continue their abuse on your ravaged pussy.

Flattening his tongue along your swollen folds, sliding teasingly between them. Your slick glistens in the dim lighting, dripping down down down the lower half of his face.

And Geto, well, looks like he’s absolutely in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks at his girl’s pretty cunt, tipping his head back further just to let your sweet juices slide down his throat.

You’re so focused on how pretty he looks that you almost miss the long fingers deftly snaking their way along your thigh. Spreading your swollen folds apart with his thumbs, he whispers raspily, “Shit. No video in the world can capture how pretty you look like this, love.”

The pure look of admiration has the camera shaking, and you sputtering out, “Wha- Suguru what nonsense-”

“Shhh, my girl. Lemme take care of it.”

And with that he’s sinking knuckle-deep into your pussy, while his ruby lips wrapping around your swollen clit. Zooming in desperately on the way he rolls his tongue harshly along it, sucking so sensually. Like a man starved.

“Ah- hngh, Sugu. Feel s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers inside you. God, you don’t know how you don’t drop the phone at this point, white-hot jolts of pleasure running up your spine from where Geto was making out so sloppily with your cunt.

Tears sting your eyes as he curls his fingers just right to brush against that one spot that has you bucking into his mouth for more more more- Hitting it over and over-

Fingers tangling in his silky hair, the video grainy with movement as you use it as leverage to grind deeper into Geto’s face. Chasing your high with an almost-embarrassing neediness. Close. So close.

A muffled, “Cum f’me, love. Cum for the camera.”

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Geto’s hungry gaze searing into your brain - and the video - as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face, grinding down desperately. Your vision is hazy, head spinning.

But Geto’s is decidedly not as he quickly skims through the obscene video, lips still attached with yours.

Ah, damn these cameras. No matter how high quality, he could never quite capture the delicate trail of drool decorating the corner of your lips. Or the exact pattern of the neat crescents that your nails leave on his chest.

They could ever quite capture the perfection that was you.

But it’s fine.

That’s what multiple takes are for, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The photographer

Nanami Kento wasn’t into photography - which didn’t quite explain the tripod and hefty camera set sitting in the corner of his office.

No, he was more into absolutely fucking ruining you in front of the camera just to capture a semblance of how heavenly you look for him. Which, well, explains the countless framed photographs decorating the walls of his often-locked office. Nothing extremely explicit - but enough to make a stray onlooker blush and look away.

And well, how could you say no? Especially when he had you bent over his desk, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds, camera aimed right at the way you lean into his cock.

Cold tabletop digging into your skin, his fingers warm on your pulsing clit. Drawing tight, methodical little circles. So like him.

“C’mon, darling. Arch your back more f’me like a good girl.” he murmurs lowly, breath hot against your ear.

As if on autopilot, you press further into his swollen cock. Sliding it deftly between your folds, just aching for any bit of friction. “K-Kento, please-.” you babble, delirious from him and his piercing gaze and him.

“Mhm, spread your legs more f’me. Yeah, jus’ like that, darling.” he mutters, voice steady with the audacity of someone that wasn’t grinding his rock-hard cock into your dripping cunt. Hips moving in shallow, mindless little motions despite himself. Yet, holding back so agonizingly.

So, you take matters into your own hands.

Slowly, purposefully, you lift yourself higher, arching so desperately into Nanami’s throbbing cock. The soft little bump! bump! bump! of him pulsing against your walls a tempo that you were losing your sanity to. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed by how needy you were acting. “Kento! Wan’ you to fuck me alre-”

You don’t get to finish the sentence, because Nanami only takes a second to snap back his hips before pressing into your dripping cunt. The stretch of your walls absolutely addictive.

Click!

Ah, there was the perfect shot.

All the blood rushes to Nanami’s cock at what showed on the screen - the exact moment that he split you apart on his cock. Your eyes wide, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, such an obscene mixture of shock and ecstacy painted across your face.

His girl was so beautiful. Especially when she was stuffed full of his cock.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

One hand steady on the camera, the other pulls you deeper onto his cock as Nanami begins to move inside you. Pulling out all the way till his leaking tip is just circling your sloppy entrance - only to ram his length into you mercilessly.

“My girl wanted to be full of my cock?” he hums darkly, “S’full she can barely even speak?” Hungry eyes devour the way your pretty pussy was milking him so greedily, barely even letting him pull out to fuck back into you harder than before.

“Ah! Yes- hah-” you breathe out, “”Wanted hngh- s’bad-”

He maps every curve and dip of the way you grind down onto his cock, taking in the obscenely heavenly sight of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy - and so does the camera.

Click!

Another one - your eyes locked onto Nanami’s. Dripping cunt just barely in the frame as he continues ravaging you from behind.

Back arched, such a sinful little expression on your face as you buck your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. As frantic as the hasty little movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit - not even circles anymore, just sloppy, sinful motions to get you off.

“Hah- please Kento,”

Click! Click!

Oh, if Nanami had it his way these photos would decorate every hallway of this house. For everyone to see.

“Wanna- hngh- wanna cum, Kento.” you mewl, ass stinging from where Nanami’s toned pelvis smacked yours at a ceaseless, maddening cadence. Clit now ravaged from both his ruthless abuse and the heavy balls smacking against it with each thrust.

Click! Click! Click!

“Then cum, darling.”

You see stars behind your eyes as you cum - or maybe that was the unforgiving camera. Capturing each and every detail of the way eyes, dazed and fucked-out, lock onto Nanami’s. Swollen lips dropping into such a pretty oh, Kento! Pushing yourself from the desk on shaky arms to arch so sinfully as Nanami goes over the edge as well.

Camera shaky for the first time as he twitches inside you savagely, before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your quivering walls. Trickling down your legs so lewdly, pooling at the sterile floors below - a problem for later.

Click! Ah, another gem for his walls.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - The urgent calls

When Choso video calls you, you know never to answer in public. Why? Well…

“Cho, what is- Oh.” Your words catch in your throat as you take in the absolutely sinful sight on your screen, cunt clenching in anticipation as you slowly bury deeper into your covers.

Legs spread on the bed, such a pretty blush dusting his face, throbbing erection leaking furiously on his toned abs - your boyfriend was an absolute vision.

“Baby…” he whines, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to your cunt. “Was missin’ you today.”

Ah, you can’t help but tease him a bit. Raising a brow, “Oh really?”

Despite his absolutely ravaged state, Choso finds it in himself to scoff, “M’serious. Jus’ thinking about that slutty pink bra you had on today. How much better it would look on my bedroom floor.”

A large hand makes its way on screen, deftly snaking down his milky skin - down, down down all the way from his abs, resting just at the tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis. Waiting. Teasing.

Now it was your turn to scoff, pussy twinging impatiently at the way he was so stubbornly waiting for you to break first. Well, two can play that game.

Unbuttoning your shirt slowly - so agonizingly slowly - revealing just a flash of that pink he wanted so bad. That rips a low groan out of Choso, precum smearing on his palm as he squeezes his swollen cock. Success.

“C’mon now, baby, don’t tease. Be a good girl f’me.”

Batting your lashes mockingly, “You first.”

You always did know how to get what you want, huh? Because with an impatient little grunt, Choso spits a steady stream of saliva once, twice onto his furiously red cock.

Your mouth waters as he grips the base tight, so achingly hard and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Precum leaking down his glistening veins, pooling at the heavy balls that twitch at the mere sound of your voice as you mutter, “Oh. You really did miss me.”

“Mhm, your turn.” he gets out through a low hiss, desperation bleeding through your speakers and into the heady air. Starting to pull on his cock in shallow, mindless little tugs - just the way you do it.

Finally relenting, you slip off your top, reaching for the clasp behind your when-

“Keep it on. Now spread your pretty legs for me, baby.”

Choso’s greedy eyes are locked on the screen as you flip the camera, showing off your already-soaked panties. Oh, you little minx.

“Shit. You don’ know what you do to me, baby.” he groans, movements getting jerkier. Fist flying up and down his cock - just wishing his hands were yours. Ah, how yours would be softer, prettier, straining to cup his thick cock. “C’mon now, my girl. Show me you wan’ me just as much.”

God, Choso thinks he could cum right on the spot as you hastily remove your wet panties, delicate trails of slick connecting them to your pretty cunt as you slide it down your legs. Yet, he manages to find it in himself to grit out a low, “Touch yourself the way I would, baby.”

And, well, you don’t need to be told twice.

Bullying your fingers through your swollen folds, thumb just grazing your throbbing clit. Purposefully teasing yourself - purposefully not giving in to what you craved so bad. No, you were too entranced with what was onscreen.

With the way Choso was fucking his fist so desperately. Like he was trying to fuck something delicious out. Harder on the base, featherlight on his flushed head. Thumb teasing under the slit just the way you would.

“Shit- Oh, baby,” Choso groans, his hips bucking wildly as if he could somehow close the distance between you. His grip on his cock almost painful as he pounds into his hand. Ah, how you wish that was your hand instead.

Your fingers dip lower, rubbing your entrance. A thrill running through you at the way Choso’s eyes widen as you slide a finger inside yourself with a whine of his name.

“Need you here with me, need to feel you around me,” you pant, rubbing against your clit in time with his fist, eyes locked on the way his throbbing cock twitches in his hands at the mere sound of your voice. Palm running up and down up and-

“Choso, just come here an’ fuck me already.”

You catch a glimpse of his eyes flickering closed, breath slowing, a satisfied smile curling his lips and then- thick spurts of cum covering his toned abs. Glistening so deliciously in the dim lighting as Choso strokes himself through his high.

You on the other hand…

“Cho~ Can’t cum without you here.” you hum coyly, slightly whiny yet not desperate - not yet.

“Get ready, baby. M’gonna be there in five.” Ah, how you loved when Choso video calls you.

♡ GOJO SATORU - The wallpaper fiend

Gojo Satoru loved to show off his wallpaper, babbling about his “beautiful girlfriend” as he flashed the picture to any and everyone he came across.

It wasn’t anything strange, really - just a slightly blurry photo of the upper half of your head, eyes slightly scrunched like you were in the depths of laughter. It’s only when someone stares too hard, finger pressing just a bit too long that Gojo snatches back his phone with an unreadable little smirk.

Because if they had they’d notice it was a live wallpaper.

One that - despite being so proudly the great Gojo Satoru’s wallpaper - was for only his eyes to see. One where the camera shifts ever-so-slightly downwards to show you splayed out deliciously on your mattress, pale, sculpted thighs straddling your face - zooming in on the way your swollen lips bulge wraps so lewdly around his throbbing cock.

“Oh, sweetheart, jus’ look at you.” his voice rumbles from above, voice hoarse with desire. “Taking my cock so well, huh?”

All he gets are muffled groans, tears glistening in your eyes as Gojo shoves his length deeper down your throat. He chuckles lightly, fucking into your hot mouth in small grinds of his hips, “Oh yeah, forgot you can’t speak sweetheart.”

Ah, what a smug bastard. And despite the dick lodged in your throat, you find it in yourself to stare up defiantly into his greedy gaze, moaning sinfully around him. That makes that confident facade crumble a little, the camera is shaky as Gojo lets out a broken little, “Sh-shit. You’re really asking for it.”

And maybe you were a mastermind - maybe you were an idiot. Because Gojo pulls his hips back till his leaking tip is just kissing your kiss-bitten lips. Smearing his precum around your glossy mouths. Only to slam back into you mercilessly, forcing you to relax your throat - because Gojo’s had enough of playing game

His searing grip on your scalp just out of the frame as he fucks into your mouth like his personal toy. Not stopping till your nose is pressed into the snowy white tufts of hair at his pelvis.

Camera scrambling to capture the way your throat bulges so obscenely as he fills you up, starting to fuck into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. “Mmm, ngh. Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel me inside you right…” A large, veiny hand makes its way into the video as it wraps around your throat, squeezing. Tight. “...here.” Gojo rasps over your choked-up moans.

Tears were streaming down your face now, nails digging desperately into the hand wrapped around your throat. But it seems Gojo had no care in the world for them. Because he coos mockingly, “Awww, don’ cry, sweetheart. Jus’ look at that slutty mouth of yours, sucking the fucking soul out of me.”

And as the screen grows grainier, the camerawork more shaky - Gojo’s hips grow more frantic.

Cock hitting the back of your throat at a maddening cadence in a way he wishes the camera could pick up. Hand tightening around your throat as he fucks into you faster and deeper. Hip chasing the feeling of your tongue wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Delicately tracing the veins along the side, flicking his sensitive slit just the way you know he likes. Over and over-

The screen flashes white - or maybe that was just Gojo’s cum. Shooting thick, endless spurts of his seed that paint your pretty face white. And oh, this was his favorite part, how you take it so well.

Your tongue darting out to catch the stream of cum that gushes out of him, pooling it on your tongue before letting it slide to the back of your throat. Eyes gazing up so eagerly into his as you stick your tongue out to show, well, nothing. Taking him up so greedily.

And if Gojo was any less of a man, he’d be showing this off to everyone he knew. And in the end, before the wallpaper goes back to that seemingly innocent picture of your face - if he turned up the volume real high - Gojo could hear his voice in the background, breathing out through ragged gasps. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna make a few more wallpapers.”

A/N. LMAO this came to me when I thought about how Gojo is the type to have a polaroid of your tits behind his phone case.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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