[a/n: this is by far the most highly requested prompt I get jfc guys y'all are sinners,,, shh no I’m only writing this as a request I didn’t enjoy it at all I am a child of god what are you saying]
Very NSFW! Tread lightly and at your own risk! . . .
“Wake up, baby.“
You brush little strands of your boyfriend’s hair away from his fluttering eyes and trace your fingertips over his snoring lips, your touch as light as butterfly kisses, “Please?”
He huffs but makes no effort to stir out of his dream state. Joji is precious when he’s sleeping and you want to know about the things he visits then, behind his eyelids, the things that keep him so peaceful at night. He’s never been a restless sleeper; never tosses, never turns, never even mutters anything. He just lays there, unaware of his easy perfection.
You tug the duvet off of his chest and rub your hand in little circles, his skin still trying to hold onto that sleepy warmth that fades with every inch Joji is drawn out of rest. “Come on, it’s like eleven. It’s time to wake up.”
He groans a little. “Sleep.”
You’re not sure if he was asking, demanding, explaining or simply stating his one-word response, but none of them would make you change your mind. Your boyfriend needs to wake up and kiss you for god sakes, then order food with you or watch a movie or something. You’re ready to start the day and you want to do it with him, but he’s a stubborn sleeper so maybe your plans will have to be delayed a few hours (or days) from now.
“You always sleep!” You groan back, mirroring his same malcontent tone. You run your fingers through his hair slowly, and lean down to give him a chaste kiss on his barely agape mouth. You sigh when he does nothing in response. “Joj, please?”
He cracks his eyes open for a second. “Stop pestering, y/n.”
“I’ll pester you all I want.” You challenge, tucking hair behind your ear and biting back a smile. Even though you two have been together for quite a few months, whenever anything borderline suggestive makes its way past your gums, you feel embarrassed and indecent, anticipating his reply – until he responds with something even raunchier, which inevitably happens most of the time.
Joji raises his eyebrows at you. “Is that so?” His tone is so casual and you wonder how he can be so confident with these things, still only half awake with a bit of dried drool on his chin and sleep in his eyes.
He rolls over abruptly, pulling the duvet up past his shoulders and snuggling back into a comfy position.
You whine. “Don’t be a slug.”
You lift the covers up once more and cuddle into his back, reaching your arms around him and kissing the smooth planes of his shoulder blades in tender moist touches. “Get up. Please. Please, please, please.”
He hums, more in content over your soft kisses than in reply to your begging.
“Joj,” you continue between pecks, “Joji. George. Sir Francis of the Filth.”
“Y/n,” He responds properly, a warning tone in his voice. You feel the rumble of his sleep-ridden words against your lips, which are still pressed to the skin of his back.
You back away, and prop yourself up on your elbow. “What are you going to do? Huh? Because you’re definitely not going to get up.“
“Just stop pestering me, babe.”
You roll your eyes. Joji is an overgrown toddler in nearly every sense. You can handle his little tantrums. You’ll pester all you want and his complaints won’t deter you because you know him and you know he’s not going to do anything other than annoy you, which is something he’s succeeding at.
“I’ll do what I want.”
And as you reach your arm back over your boyfriend to try and roll him over toward you again, he catches your wrist in his hand. This movement makes you jump in a surprise, and of course your hesitance is something he seems to have expected. In a single swift motion, he has rolled over, pinned your wrist down to the bed leaned in close to your ear. “I told you not to pester. Now you’re going to have to face the consequences.”
His breath is hot and it tickles but you wouldn’t dare risk laughing in his face at this moment. His sudden suggestive action is not something you had expected and you’re not sure what he has in mind, but you’re definitely curious.
“What’s my punishment?”
His smirk is loud enough to cloud your peripheral vision. “You’ll see.”
His mouth is on your skin, in the crook of your neck, and it’s tender and hot and you feel a deep desire prosper somewhere down under.
Your un-imprisoned hand fists the sheets below you in a shallow attempt to ground yourself. His tongue is slow and wet and his teeth sting as he bites and teases your skin, surely leaving a mark. Hisses of pleasure are leaving your mouth, but it’s obvious Joji is after something more.
He tugs your nightshirt off over your head, reaches down to take hold of both your hands and moves his attention to your bare breasts. Both appendages are pinned a little above your head and you’re left defenseless to your boyfriend’s aggressive kisses and talented tongue. You know that hickeys will speckle your chest in no time.
You’re whimpering and Joji lifts his mouth away from your silken skin to breathe a quick, “are you learning your lesson?” His exhales are cold against the saliva he’s left on your breast, and your skin is thrumming with a sexual need as internal as your bones.
“Please.” You say, voice weak and straining as you jut your hips up in a desperate attempt for friction.
He releases one of your wrists and slides a hand down to tend to the moistening area between your legs. Tremors of anticipation riddle your body as he teases you with the tips of two fingers. But you need more, you’re desperate for him, all of him, right now.
You jut your hips a second time, breathing hard, whimpering, completely helpless to your body’s natural responses to Joji’s touches.
“Now what did I say? Patience. You need to learn how to listen, baby girl. You need to learn your lesson.“
Your boyfriend shimmies out of his boxers, throws them somewhere irrelevant off to the side, grabs both of your wrists again and pins them down once more. “Did you hear me?”
“Heard you,” you whine, focusing every fiber of your body on staying completely still.
“Good girl. Now get ready for your punishment.”
You inhale sharply as your boyfriend pushes himself inside of you, thrusting hard, slowly, squeezing your wrists tight and harsh. His low and guttural sounds of ecstasy are growling in your ear as he presses his head back into the crook of your neck, breathing hard and scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin of your shoulder.
“Be patient for me, baby,” He hisses, his movements so rough, knocking his hips against yours. He places a single sloppy kiss on the skin he’s been teasing, bidding it farewell and then moves to hover above you instead. He makes a point of looking into your eyes, watching you squirm in pleasure beneath him as he fucks you.
Joji’s eyes are clouded, his hair is hanging off of him and his face is covered in perspiration and sweat. It’s so beautiful, so hot, and you’re getting close just watching him.
Your boyfriend’s thrusts get messier and much faster, desperate, and your thighs tremble in needy anticipation. He releases your wrists suddenly and moves one hand down to hold himself up and the other down to grip your thigh, to tug them closer to him, to bury himself into you as far as he can.
His hips rut harder, quicker, sloppier and your hands have traveled to his back, raking down the soft flesh as you finally come, him soon after, waves of pleasure and tremors of unbelievable ecstasy racking your entire body, your thighs, your mind, eyes screwed shut and toes curled tight as the two of you ride your orgasms out together.
Joji soon slides out of you and rolls onto his back. The two of you lay there for a moment, covered in one another’s sweat, among other bodily fluids, and pant until your heads are clear enough to translate thoughts into words.
“I think you learned your lesson,” is the first thing your boyfriend says after fucking your brains out.
You don’t have the energy to laugh so you just smile and think a moment. “I’m not quite sure I have yet,”