#I think the first half is really boring though | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamitv · 3 months ago

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▷ What You Need

Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)

A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]

You wanted to fuck him.

Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.

A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.

——

You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.

And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.

The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town.

Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.

Up until a rather particular Friday morning.

Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.

And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”

His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.

“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.

His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.

It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.

And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.

Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said.

You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.

He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”

“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”

That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“

“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”

Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”

Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”

“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”

The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.

“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.

Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”

His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.

And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.

Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well.

——

The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.

Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?

That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.

As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city?

Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.

She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”

“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“

“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“

“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”

The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”

Your face scrunches up, “What?”

“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.

To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”

“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“

“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”

“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.

You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”

Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”

“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.

Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.

Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.

The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.

Or at least, you’re supposed to be.

——

But God do you make things difficult.

You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.

Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.

That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.

But again, you make it so fucking difficult.

One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.

Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.

To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.

Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).

And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin.

And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.

Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-

The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.

Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-

“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.

Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.

That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.

He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”

“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”

He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-

“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”

“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.

You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”

Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”

“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”

He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”

Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.

To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”

You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him.

Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn.

“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.

Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”

Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-

“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.

“Father,” You hum in response.

He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.

Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.

Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.

All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.

——

Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.

It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.

Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had.

The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.

At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.

Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.

Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.

When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.

Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.

It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.

You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.

Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.

He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.

You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”

“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”

“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.

You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”

You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.

He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”

“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.

Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.

“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.

Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.

Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.

Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”

“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”

You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.

“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.

“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“

He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”

You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.

Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”

“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”

He smirks, “Do I?”

“Mhm. How old are you?”

“A hundred ‘n fifty.”

You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”

You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.

To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”

“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”

“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”

Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.

His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”

Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”

“I know-“

“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.

His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”

“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.

Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.

“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?”

He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”

“So?”

“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”

“Yet?” Choso echoes.

“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”

“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”

Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”

“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.

You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”

“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.

“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”

He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”

Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”

“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.

“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“

He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”

“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.

You smirk, “Everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere.”

“Like… even your c-“

“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”

Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”

“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.

“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”

At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.

After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.

His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.

“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”

He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”

“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.

Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”

You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“

“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.

“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”

The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.

“Yes, I-“

“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.

You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”

“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.

“I need-“

“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.

You whine, “But-“

“Speak properly to me ‘nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.

You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”

He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.

Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”

“You don’t know anything,” He argues.

“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper

“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.

The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”

He chokes, “I won’t.”

You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”

“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”

You miss his touch already, “Like what?”

“Watch a movie.”

“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”

It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”

——

And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?

Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.

The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.

Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.

He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.

“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.

His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”

You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”

He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”

“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.

He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”

That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break.

And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good.

Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.

He smirks, “Where?”

“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.

Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.

He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.

“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.

You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.

Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.

“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”

You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”

He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.

“No,” You huff.

Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.

Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”

You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.

His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.

“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”

“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”

You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.

“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”

Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you.

Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”

“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”

He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”

You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”

He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.

Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.

“Cho-“

“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”

“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”

“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.

You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.

For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”

A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.

To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”

The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.

“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”

“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.

“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.

His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.

“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.

He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.

When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”

“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.

“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.

He bites his lip, “Anything else?”

His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.

“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”

“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”

“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.

He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”

“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.

As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.

“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.

“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.

“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”

Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”

“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.

And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.

Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.

“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.

“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”

“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.

“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.

He chuckles, “Stop what?”

“Bein’ gentle with me.”

Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”

You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”

“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.

Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.

“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.

Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”

All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”

Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.

“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.

“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”

He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.

Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”

“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.

He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”

——

That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.

At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.

Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.

He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”

You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.

“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.

With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.

“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.

You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.

Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.

You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.

“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”

If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.

But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.

Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.

“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.

He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.

You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”

“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.

Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”

His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.

Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.

“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.

Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.

“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.

You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”

Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.

He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner.

Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.

Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness.

Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back.

You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”

His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.

Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.

Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.

Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”

His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.

Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.

Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”

“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.”

“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”

You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.

“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.

“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.

He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”

Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“

“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.

You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.

So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.

The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.

Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”

“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.

Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.

Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…

7K notes · View notes

tonycries · 8 months ago

Text

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father.

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close?

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was.

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you.

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you.

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting.

And oh was it interesting.

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion.

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second.

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was.

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought.

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were.

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh.

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often.

“Ah! Wha- Sato-”

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart.

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards.

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach.

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son.

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again.

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined.

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop.

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not.

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner.

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again.

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you.

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom.

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat.

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting.

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have.

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and-

Oh. Shit.

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door. Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily.

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously.

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins.

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.”

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing.

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way.

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.”

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb.

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.”

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him.

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full.

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that.

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming.

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again.

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed.

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father.

But that was exactly the problem.

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out.

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself.

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right?

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy.

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice.

Success.

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.”

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you.

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck.

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth.

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission.

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find.

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight.

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away.

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy. Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet.

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.” he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting.

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds.

And then it was like something snapped.

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams.

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue.

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before.

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him.

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it.

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls.

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face.

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him.

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high.

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do.

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip!

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one.

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you.

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed.

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin.

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.”

Shit had you said that out loud?

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you.

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs.

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh.

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need.

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now.

Of course, you were not one to be out-done.

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle.

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth.

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet.

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard.

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards.

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips.

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch.

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in.

“No.”

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.”

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing.

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all.

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you.

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high.

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you.

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough.

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams.

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven.

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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kentopedia · 1 year ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ my girl — nanami kento

summary: you know the kid that kento mentors has a little crush on you; why wouldn't you use that to your advantage?

contents: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, brat taming, possessive sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dom nanami, jealousy, ino has the hots for you, unprotected sex, kinda deg, slight dumbification, um i think that's it clearly i am so desperate for nanami and i haven't even watched the new episode — 2.3k

under the table, you slide your palm up kento’s thigh as he speaks.

he's explaining something about sorcerer politics that you’re not really interested in hearing about, not when there’s an ache between your thighs that he refused to take care of before you left, and his sleeves are rolled up in the way he knows drives you crazy.

across from the two of you, ino sits, attentively listening to your husband as, every few seconds, his eyes subtly slide over to you, the pink flush on his cheeks returning each time he glances at the soft smile that rests on your glossy lips.

ino’s crush on you is no secret. he is, really, quite obvious about how much he wants your attention.

of course, he knows about you and kento, has known since he first set eyes on you at a sorcerers’ meeting and asked you, slyly, if you were single.

kento had come up behind you not a moment later, smiling with a golden band on his ring finger, asking ino if he forgot to introduce his wife.

and though the younger sorcerer respects nanami, perhaps more than anyone, it does little to quell the attraction he has for his wife… especially since you are so insistent on teasing the poor kid at every chance you get.

you can’t help it, really, when it riles kento up so easily. the way he vibrates under his skin with anger, irritated that another person could ever think of his wife in any manner that is less than respectable.

kento sets your hand gently back down on your lap, jaw clenching as his fingers twist around your wrist tightly. though he hides his irritation well, you can tell from the sharp glint in his eye, the tension in his shoulders, that it is getting the best of him.

your husband may be sweet, a lover that never acts rashly out of anger, but he has a possessive streak he’s never been very good at taming.

as kento stiffens, you smile sweetly at ino, who exhales heavily, shifting all of his attention on your husband. though, you are staring him down, listening attentively to every word that he says.

while ino speaks, you slide your hand back over kento’s thigh, vying for his attention. he clears his throat, a warning, as he grips your wrist once more and pushes you away.

it won’t be much longer before he snaps. kento's sitting straighter, back taut as he focuses his gaze sharply on the younger man across from him. whatever the two of them are speaking about is dull, repetitive talk about work that you are bored of.

“so, ino,” you finally ask, the lull in the conversation that you've been waiting for. you speak up before kento can ask any more questions about the sorcerer’s progress. “any pretty sorcerers caught your eye?” you lean froward with a small grin, your breasts fully on display as you set your chin in your palm. “surely someone as charming as you already has a girlfriend."

ino turns red then, a flush spreading from every corner as he tries, so hard, not to let his eyes fall. you admire the effort, really, even though kento catches the moment the younger man's gaze drops, the half second he stares at your tits and squirms in his seat.

“n-no,” ino stutters, nervous for the first time in this conversation; he is usually so loud and outspoken, never feeling shy about the words that leave his lips. “can’t seem to find many sorcerers my age.”

you laugh. it’s true that there are few sorcerers from his year, but you know it is the wrong thing to say.

anger radiates off your husband, and with a sense of satisfaction, you trace your fingers back up his thigh before grinning, batting your eyelashes at ino.

“why not go for someone older, then?” you ask, palming a hand over the steadily growing bulge in kento’s pants

ino chokes, and kento grabs your hand roughly, shoving your fist back onto his lap as he steadies all his anger and buries it down.

“excuse me,” kento suddenly interrupts, and his voice is so calm, so smooth, that its almost like nothing is out of the ordinary. he slides out of the booth, running a palm over his slacks, palms sweaty from his annoyance. “i just remembered i’ve got an important phone call to make. could we put a pause on this conversation?” he is so polite as he nods his head, and ino blinks, looks between the two of you, uncertain if he’s done something wrong.

“of course,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “take you time.”

“would you come with me, sweetheart?” kento turns to you then, and he sounds normal, like there’s nothing wrong, but his hands flex at his side, and his eyes are narrowed almost imperceptibly.

kento’s mad, and you know you’re fucked; but you can't help the desire that sits heavily in your stomach, the way you’re already soaking your panties, wanting him inside you.

“sure, ken.” you nod, smiling at him. “sorry, ino, we’ll back right back.”

you stand next to your husband, who places a heavy hand on your shoulder, a warning. but you love the feeling of his skin on your own and it does little to stop your teasing; it only makes you want him more.

ino says nothing as kento leads you around the restaurant, takes you to the back of the shop where there are two single-person bathrooms. one is occupied, and the other, empty.

the two of you go inside.

“are you trying to embarrass me?” kento says angrily, shoving you into the bathroom as he locks the door behind him, his eyes hungry at the sight of your flushed cheeks, the way you are already so desperate for him. he pushes you towards the sink, eyes flashing as you reach for him, hastily undoing his tie. “you’re acting like a fucking brat whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.”

“maybe you don’t,” you counter, yanking off his tie so you can unbutton his shirt, slide your hands across the expanse of his chest. god, you want him so fucking bad. you’re aching, arousal pooling in your panties as your husband lifts you, shoves you back onto the sink. “you wouldn’t even take care of me before you left—“

“don’t start.” he glares and unzips his slacks to free his half-hard cock, stroking it as you try to get your hands on him. though that attempt is feeble as kento grabs both your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. with the other, he hikes your dress up, pushing it along your smooth thighs.

his voice is low and dangerous, deepening as he dances fingertips along your skin. “you’re so fucking desperate for attention that you’ll take it from anyone.” he pins you with his hard gaze, and you’re hot all over, legs shaking with anticipation. “i bet you like that he wants to fuck you so bad, even when you know i can fuck you better.”

you whimper, eyelids fluttering as kento reaches under your dress to pull down your panties.

“prove it, then” you say, and you know you’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, annoying him further as you grope at him. you squirm, trying to release your wrists from his hold, but he’s so strong; you’re only left a writhing mess under his touch. “i want you, kento.”

“yeah?” he asks, yanking your panties roughly down your thighs, the pair that has already been soaked through. “if i give you what you want, will you sit there quietly like a good girl, and stop flirting with the kid who wants something he can’t have?”

the tone sends aching need throughout you, and the commanding presence of his voice is almost too much. “i promise,” you say, shaking as you lock your heels around his hips. “please.”

“please,” kento repeats mockingly, eyes hard as he slips a finger inside of you. he slides right in, barely needing to prep you before he fucks you. “you should be embarrassed; you’re this fucking wet just from looking at me." his eyes harden. "so impatient that you can’t even wait until we get home.”

“i’ve been patient all day,” you say, high-pitched, but you’re quickly silenced as kento slides in and out of you, setting a steady pace while his thick fingers squelch inside your aching pussy. “need you to—“

“stop making demands." he releases your wrists to place a hand on your hips, stop you from fucking yourself on his fingers. “shouldn’t even be giving you what you want, but i can’t help myself. you’re so pretty, so desperate to have my cock inside you that you can’t even sit still.”

“kento, fuck,” you groan, grabbing his shoulders as he stretches his fingers deeper inside you, past the walls that clamp down on him. in a desperation to keep quiet, you try to kiss him, moan into his mouth so no one else can hear you.

but he grips your hair tightly, pulls you away from his lips as you moan, loudly, into the tight space of the bathroom. “nice try.” his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt. “but i want everyone to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart. need them to know who’s fucking the brat out of you.”

you try to pull him towards you, shift him closer with your ankles. “kento—”

“louder.”

“kento, fuck, baby, please. i want you so bad, i love you—” you’re almost screaming, desperate to cum as his thumb brushes against your clit, teasing, and not enough for you to find complete release.

but you’re squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he must know you’re close, even as he pulls out of you, the juices from your need for him soaking his knuckle.

finally, he smiles at you, softly.

“there’s my good girl,” he says, and it reminds you why you never want anyone else but him, why you need him, desperately, all the time. kento’s cock is already aching, leaking, and he forces it into you without warning, grunting into your neck. “sometimes, you're just so fucking stupid when you want my cock.”

you nod, whimpering out a breathy moan as he thrusts into you, hard and rough, still holding you by the hair so you can’t kiss him, even as much as you want to.

you’re so hot all over, skin burning as he stretches you. “please, let me cum, ken,” you say, and there’s tears in your eyes; you’re so close, but you want to be good for him, want to show him how much you love him.

he hums against your neck, watches you writhe as he forces himself deeper into you, burying his cock in your pussy completely.

you can’t help the sinful noises that leave your throat, echoing down the vents to the kitchen, to the dining room. and maybe everyone in the restaurant can hear your husband fucking you, but you don’t care, not when you’ve waited this long for him to be inside you.

“so pretty,” he says, sharply, and finally, he lets his hands fall from your hair, holds your hips instead, bringing you harder onto his cock.

a tear rolls down your cheek and you bite down on your tongue to keep from screaming, whimpering at the aching pleasure in your entire body.

“you’re mine,” kento says, kissing you sloppily, hungrily as you thread your fingers through his hair. his tip brushes the sensitive spot inside you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stop yourself from cumming. “mine, mine, mine. no one else should ever get to fucking look at you if they can’t tell who you belong to.”

“i don’t want anyone but you,” you say, and you’re almost shouting, saliva all over your mouth as you drool from his harsh kisses. "i'm yours, kento."

you feel him smile against your lips. “that’s my girl,” he says, voice rough as he grips you tightly, nearing his own orgasm. “you wanna cum, pretty? make a mess on my my cock, sweetheart. i’m so close.”

his thrusts grow sloppy, and you grip his shoulders as he fucks deep into you cunt, forcefully, and, finally, you cry out, toes curling as you cum, hard, around him.

kento’s face is flushed, sweat at his hairline as his tips edges against your cervix, almost painfully, before he’s toppling over the edge, biting down hard on your shoulder with a groan. hot ropes spill into your cunt, and you're still writhing, moaning from sensitivity as his warm seed settles deep within you.

he’s so pretty; you kiss him over and over, the loose hair that sticks to his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. “mmm,” you hum, tasting the coffee on his tongue. “love you so much, kento,”

“you say that now,” he says curtly, slowly dragging himself out of your tight walls. “but wait until we get home.”

already, your pussy aches again, and you’re too warm, sweating as kento fixes his hair in the mirror.

you try to slide your panties back on, reach for where they've pooled at your ankles, but kento is faster. he yanks them away, folds them up nicely to tuck into his pocket.

“kento—”

“leave them off,” he says, sniffing as his cheeks slowly return to their normal color. “maybe ino will stop thinking about fucking my wife if he sees my cum running down her thighs.”

you stare at him, blinking, but you don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight anymore. instead, you obey, standing as a mix of kento's cum and your own juices seep onto your inner thigh, creating a sticky mess between your legs.

your husband unlocks the door, and you follow him back into the dining room, where ino is subtly sliding back into the booth, his cheeks red, a bulge obvious in his pants. he glances between the two of you with wide eyes, and darts his gaze back down between your legs, before staring at kento uncomfortably.

“did you get your call sorted out?” he asks, and his voice is higher, squeakier as you sit down with your husband.

kento smirks, satisfied. “it’s been taken care of.”

i need him to fuck me so bad

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luveline · 7 months ago

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grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring.

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up.

“Hi, mom.”

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.”

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.”

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.”

“It’s him I’m calling about.”

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy.

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.”

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take.

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now.

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him.

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign.

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness.

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.”

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath.

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens.

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?”

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine.

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.”

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?”

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.”

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it.

“Let me sit you down,” he says.

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?”

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?”

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.”

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says.

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands.

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach.

You close your eyes.

“Rough day?” you ask.

“A lot to doâ€¦” His face moves down into your neck.

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp.

“How’s that?”

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.”

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.”

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on orâ€“”

“No, I know.”

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?”

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.”

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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plutotheplum · 2 months ago

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Blurred Lines

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you’ve decided to get intimate for the first time with your boyfriend, and who better to ask for advice than his best friend?

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, kissing, oral sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v, possessive sex, praise kink, cheating/infidelity

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i don't support cheating at all, this idea just would not leave me so erm... i just had to write it

also on ao3!

You might be a little in over your head.

Sure, the entire thing had been your idea, but now that you’re standing outside of Leon’s apartment, duffle bag clutched in hand, you think you might’ve made the wrong decision.

But… you did really like your boyfriend.

It was why you were doing all of this after all. You wanted the first time with your new boyfriend to be perfect, especially after your last relationship had practically turned out to be a disaster. The sex hadn’t been enjoyable and the heated conversations between you and your ex even more so.

So, who better to ask for advice than your boyfriend’s best friend?

Eyes squeezing shut, you mutter a few words of self-encouragement. The doorbell looks oddly ominous when you open your eyes again.

You weren’t even sure why Leon had agreed to this entire thing. He’d always just been there, barely acknowledging your presence at all. All in all, you were convinced Leon hated you. It didn’t matter though, you didn’t particularly like the man either. Leon was just an unfortunate addition to things you had to endure.

An irritated huff of air leaves you and your hand jerks out, your own body having grown tired of your indecisiveness. The doorbell rings promptly and you shift on your feet, biting your lip nervously.

When the door creaks open, you have half the mind to run away. Leon’s gaze keeps you pinned in place however, his bored eyes dipping over you, brows raising slightly when he sees the duffle bag you were holding.

“You were serious about this, huh?” Leon asks, crossing his arms over his chest, peering down at you.

“Uh- well,” you begin, tongue feeling heavy, “I- I can just leave,” you laugh awkwardly, “you’re probably busy and I don’t want to bother you and-”

“Stop rambling,” he interrupts, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice, “just get inside.”

You’re grateful for his timely intervention, nodding rapidly and stepping inside. Taking off your shoes, you place them by the door neatly, not wanting to annoy Leon even more. He motions with his fingers and you follow him in, letting him guide you into his bedroom.

“What’s the bag for?”

“Oh, I packed a couple of outfits,” you shrug, watching as he sits down on his chair, “thought you might be able to tell me which one would work the best.”

Leon stares at you blankly, his lips pursing.

“You’re fucking weird.”

A sharp scoff leaves you, your eyes narrowing as you glare at the man in front of you. “You agreed to help me!”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Leon retorts.

You glare at him a little more and he lets out an exasperated sigh, motioning for you to sit down on the edge of his bed. You do as he says, although your movements are begrudging, feeling miffed.

“So?” He asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “what do you want to know?”

“Se- sex stuff,” you reply casually, although your posture betrays you. It’s difficult to feel comfortable around Leon, his gaze uncomfortably intense and probing. You don’t think you’ve ever sat with your back this straight for so long before.

“Watching porn would’ve solved that problem for you,” Leon says drily.

“You’re a real asshole, Leon.”

He rolls his eyes at your jab, slouching a little further in his chair, thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. Leon’s fingers tap against the arm-rest, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn’t feel anymore awkward, agitatedly playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Can’t you just tell me what he likes?” you blurt out, growing desperate, “you guys talk about that stuff, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Leon says, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Just do what feels natural. Sex isn’t supposed to be something you spend weeks worrying about.”

It’s surprisingly solid advice…but Leon could’ve told you all of this over text. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly.

“But what if he doesn’t like it?” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Then he’ll tell you,” he says, hands clasping together. Leon gives you another once-over, tilting his head. “Go get changed, let’s see those outfits.”

You nod, tugging your bag into his bathroom and pull on your first outfit. It’s a pretty dress, flowy and a little short, but you’d figured it’d be a good pick.

“What do you think?”

Leon’s eyes flick up to meet yours, silently evaluating the dress. His brows furrow for a moment, something imperceptible passing through his eyes before he shakes his head. A sigh escapes you, but you disappear back into his bathroom obediently to pull on your next outfit.

Leon doesn’t like that one. He doesn’t like the one after either. Your patience is running thin by the time you’ve changed into your fourth outfit, a nice top and skirt. You tuck your hair behind your ears, staring at yourself in the mirror. You look cute, at least from your perspective. You don’t understand what he finds so unappealing about your sense of style. Leon’s eyes barely drift over you before he’s shaking his head again.

“Pass,” Leon drawls, looking bored out of his mind as he slouches in his chair. Irritation festers inside of you, teeth gritting together as Leon simply ignores you, scrolling through his phone.

“This is cute!” you protest, looking down at the outfit you put together, “I look cute!”

“If that makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that,” he replies, not sparing you a second glance.

“You’re the worst!” you snap, stomping back into the bathroom.

Your temper gets the best of you when you scrutinize your irritated reflection, cheeks flushed with anger, the stress of being here with Leon bubbling past your own breaking point. You tug your top off, along with your bra, bathroom door slamming open as you move to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“How about now, asshole?”

Leon’s eyes widen when he sees your bare chest, surprise making his grip on his phone falter, the device falling towards the carpeted floor as he stares at your tits. His jaw seems to go slack, a sharp breath of air getting sucked in as he stares for a bit longer. You glare at him, chest rising and falling, watching as his gaze dips over the curve of your waist.

“They’re just tits,” he says nonchalantly.

Leon’s expressions betray his true emotions, however. You catch the bob of his throat as he swallows, the subtle clench of his jaw as he stares at your tits. Your eyes dip down between his thighs and a small smile spreads across your face when you spot the bulge forming in his shorts.

“Do you like ‘em?” you ask, tilting your head.

“What?” Leon sputters, his cheeks flushing lightly.

“Do you like ‘em?” you repeat, taking a step closer, “my tits, Leon.”

He swallows again, trying and failing to look away from your tits. “They’re fine,” he manages out after a moment, “normal, or whatever.”

That makes a frown pull at your lips. Your head tips down, taking in your own breasts. They weren’t anything special, but you thought they looked nice, at least. Embarrassment has your skin crawling, cheeks heating up when you realize how stupidly you’ve been acting.

You move to turn on your heel, but Leon stops you, his hand curling around your wrist. He tugs you forward, your feet stumbling slightly as he pulls you until you're standing between his spread legs.

“Maybe I should feel them,” Leon offers, peering up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “might- might help me judge a bit better.”

Surprise flits across your face, heat shooting through your body. You really shouldn’t let him do this, you shouldn’t even have your tits out in the first place but when Leon’s hand lands on your waist, all rational thought seems to leave you.

“Okay,” you whisper, “you can touch.”

Both of Leon’s hands are on your waist now, sliding upwards. You bite your lip to stifle a whine, back arching to push your chest into his touch when his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts.

Leon lets out a low hum, stroking his thumb over the same place again, staring intently at your hardened nipples. His fingers reach for them, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he tugs lightly before letting go, watching as your breasts move at the sensation.

“Gonna let me taste ‘em too?,” he asks, pinching your nipples again before rubbing his thumbs over your areolas.

“T- taste?” you echo, feeling your breath catch in your throat when Leon leans forward, his touch growing greedier as he grasps at your tits, squeezing the fat roughly. Your legs shake slightly, little twitches running up through your body and Leon notices, pulling you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs as he helps you climb up onto his lap.

You can feel how hard he is when your cunt presses up against his clothed cock, a low whine slipping out of you at the feeling. Leon grins, squeezing your breasts a few more times, seemingly taken with tugging your nipples and watching your breasts bounce back into place.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “just let me put my mouth on you, hm?”

A single nod leaves you and Leon takes it as permission to kiss the space between your breasts. He’s surprisingly gentle with you, peppering soft kisses around your breast and over your nipples. Leon’s tongue lolls out before long, a groan emanating from him as he pulls you flush against him, his hips bucking up into your clothed cunt.

You gasp, fingers settling in his hair, pulling his head closer. Leon’s mouth opens wider, sucking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking across your nipple harshly as he silently urges your hips to move against him. You do as he wants, grinding against his lap, mewling when he sinks his teeth into the fat of your tit. He switches his attention to your other tit, sucking it into his mouth, pressing his hand into your back to make your chest jut out so that he can get more of you into his mouth.

“Do oh- do you like my tits now, Leon?” you ask breathily.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” he mumbles out drunkenly, “love your tits, baby.”

A light flush covers your cheeks when Leon pulls away, both of your chests rising and falling. He stares up at you, perched on his lap prettily, his hands squeezing at your waist soothingly. Your hazy eyes dip down to his lips, fingers tightening into his shirt as you imagine his lips on yours.

That would make everything all the more real however, so you refrain, simply peering down at him. Leon can see the uncertainty that makes you squirm, the flash of guilt that seems to dim down the spark in your eyes. He doesn’t exactly like the situation either, what the two of you are doing, but when your lower lip juts out into a cute, little pout, Leon wonders what might’ve been if he’d gotten to you first.

“We should stop,” he says after a while, fingers tapping the sides of your thighs.

“Yeah,” you murmur, humiliation flitting across your face, “we should.”

Leon helps you get off his lap, smoothing his hand over the ruffles in your skirt. It’s a weirdly considerate action and too out of place for him. You disappear into the bathroom, pulling your top back on. Leon waits for you, his eyes dipping to the bulge in his shorts. It’s uncomfortable, his half-hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.

A heavy sigh leaves him, his hand reaching down to adjust himself before you come out.

“Thank you for letting me come over,” you mumble as he walks you over to his door.

“Don’t mention it,” Leon murmurs, his voice low.

Don’t mention it. You know deep down you won’t be mentioning anything to your boyfriend.

You go to open the door, but before you can, Leon’s stepping up behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he cages you in against the door. A soft whine spills out of you when he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

“You’re making things difficult,” he says, voice muffled with how closely he’s pressed his face into your neck.

“I- I’m leaving,” you retort weakly, managing to get your hand on the doorknob.

He hums, pressing one of his hands against the door, keeping it shut.

“Leon,” you sigh exasperatedly, “we can’t. You’re the one who said we should stop.”

“If I hadn’t said that, would you have stayed?”

The question hangs in the air. Your silence is answer enough. Leon’s mouth on your tits had been more than enough to convince you to stay, the memory of his clothed cock pressed up against your panties making you bite back another whine. His hand has begun to slide to your leg, smoothing up over your skin and under your skirt.

“Tell me,” Leon coaxes, his fingers grazing your panties, “would you have stayed?”

A strangled gasp is your response as he presses the pads of his fingers up against your panties. Leon lets out a low laugh, landing a soft kiss to your neck, his fingers rubbing at your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

Your head tips forward, forehead pressing against the door and mouth opening in a silent moan when Leon rubs faster. He trails kisses down your neck before nuzzling into the crook of it, pressing you against the door harder to grind his cock into your ass.

“C’mon, baby,” he urges again, “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I- I hate you,” you grit out but you rock your hips across his hand anyways, wanting more friction against your pussy.

Leon clicks his tongue, drawing his fingers away.

“Ngh- nooo,” you whine, trying to get his hand back to where you want him to touch you, “Leon!”

It’s too late though, Leon’s already unlatched himself, taking a few steps back to put some space between you two. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, pursing his lips as he stares down at you.

“You’re a piece of shit, Leon.”

“You know, that makes me less inclined to want to touch you.”

“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up, “I’ll just do it myself.”

“W- what?” Leon blurts out, gaze fixated on the sway of your hips as you push past him. He watches as you settle down onto his couch, your head tipping back as your hand disappears under your skirt and slips past the band of your panties.

A soft sigh escapes you when you touch yourself, eyes fluttering shut. You’re wet thanks to Leon, body squirming as your fingers circle your swollen clit to find some relief.

“Fuck,” Leon hisses, watching as you masturbate on his couch without a care in the world. His cock throbs painfully and he’s dropping to knees before he can stop himself, hands grabbing at your legs.

“No,” you glare at him when he tries to pull your panties down, swatting his hand away.

“Please?” he pleads, eyes darkened with lust, “baby, please? I- I just wanna see.”

“‘m not your baby,” you grouse, trying to shove his face away as your fingers slide through your slick folds.

“You could’ve been,” Leon mutters.

He looks a little bitter and you raise your brows in question. “You hate me.”

“No I don’t,” he replies, nuzzling into your knee, lips pressing against your skin in a gentle kiss, “I want you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur, rolling your eyes when he manages to capture your wrist in his hand, stopping you from pushing him away. A soft gasp escapes you when he curls his arms over your thighs, spreading you open for him.

“Been wanting to fuck you ever since he brought you ‘round,” Leon whispers, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, “you’re so pretty.”

You mewl, hips bucking as he pulls your panties down your legs. Leon’s eyes darken as your fingers move, spreading apart the folds of your pussy so he can get a good look.

“Fuck,” he groans, “pussy’s so fucking wet, baby.”

Your fingers run through his soft hair, pulling his head closer. Leon goes more than willingly, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your pussy. He lets out a guttural moan, arms tightening around your thighs, hands disappearing up your top to squeeze at your tits as he all but shoves his face into your cunt.

“You- oh- you should apologize, Leon,” you whisper, pushing his head away when he tries to suck your clit into his mouth. “You didn’t like any of my outfits and you were mean.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, trying to nuzzle back into your pussy.

You nod, and he groans, half-lidded eyes never straying from your leaking cunt.

“‘m sorry,” he breathes out, inching closer and managing to land a soft kiss to your aching clit, “‘m sorry, okay? I was an asshole and fuck-” Leon shudders, nudging past your hand to kiss your clit again as his eyes meet yours, “I didn’t him to want to see you like that, all pretty and dolled up.”

There’s a strange fluttering sensation in your chest, heart skipping a beat at his confession. You stare down at him, letting him kiss your clit one more time before you rub your fingers through your folds, pressing your slick fingers against his mouth. Leon moans, mouth opening, sucking your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them.

“Don’t stop,” you mumble when Leon licks your pussy again.

He hums, squeezing at your tits, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples as he eats you out. Soft mewls spill from your mouth, hips rocking to meet his mouth, back arching to press more of yourself against him.

You jerk in his grasp, an involuntary twitch running through your body when he strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit gently, his tongue burying itself inside of you.

“Leon,” you whine, tugging at his hair while your head tips back, “‘m close.”

He doubles his efforts when you say that, pinching your nipples roughly as he slurps and sucks at the wetness of your pussy. The sounds are lewd, the soft smack of his lips around your slick folds and aching cunt making you flush.

“Taking my fingers so good,” he whispers, pushing two of his fingers inside of your cunt and cooking them so that they brush against your sensitive spot.

You fist his hair tighter, moans growing louder as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his mouth latching onto your clit, tongue flicking and stroking across the swollen bud before sucking hard.

“Ah!” you squeak out, shoving his face further into your cunt, thighs trapping his face and squeezing tight as you cum, body shuddering and toes digging into his back, “Leon!”

Leon groans into your cunt, taking your orgasm eagerly, sucking and licking at your wetness, drinking it down. He huffs a breath when you try to push his head away, moving your hand away to lick over your pussy despite your twitching thighs and the painful grip you have on his hair.

He pulls away finally with a kiss to your clit, grinning up at you, his eyes hazy with lust. The lower half of his face is wet and Leon licks his lips before leaning towards you, his nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me, sweetheart.”

You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He stares up at you, lips parted and you lower your head, hesitation and guilt forgotten as you press your lips against his. Leon lets out a contented sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist, lips moving against yours eagerly.

He gets off of his knees and crawls on top of you instead, hips slotting between your thighs. Your legs wrap around his waist, kissing him languidly and gasping into his mouth when he grinds his clothed cock against your bare cunt.

“Want it?” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck, “want my cock, baby?”

“We- we shouldn’t,” you whisper weakly, watching as he sits back to pull his shirt up over his head.

You gulp nervously when you see his bare upper half, cunt clenching at the sight of his muscled abdomen and thick biceps. Leon ignores you, his lips slotting over yours again, hand caressing your waist soothingly.

A sigh leaves you, hands smoothing over his shoulders to pull him closer. He stares down at you, panting softly, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

“You’re right,” he murmurs.

Neither of you make any moves to detach from each other however, Leon’s hand stroking over your hair as he grunts and rocks his hips against your cunt again.

“Just- shit- just the tip,” Leon offers, groaning when he feels your hands on his chest, “just the tip, baby.”

You whimper into his mouth when he kisses you again, fingers creeping down to pull at his shorts impatiently.

“D- doesn’t count if it’s just the tip,” you agree breathlessly, hand wrapping around his fat cock.

“Yeah,” Leon says, his voice shaky, “yeah, doesn’t hah- doesn’t count if it's just the tip.”

Leon mutters out a curse when your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, kissing you roughly as he grasps his cock, pumping it a few times. You watch, flushed and eager as he presses his cock against your folds, rubbing it against you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he snarls, moving his cock and slapping it the tip of it against your swollen clit, smearing pre-cum across your folds. “‘m gonna make you forget about him,” Leon slurs, “gonna make you mine, sweetheart.”

He presses the tip of his cock into you and you whine, clawing at his biceps, feeling the initial stretch of his cock. Leon grunts, his face pressing back into the crook of you neck, fucking you shallowly.

“Bet my entire cock would feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your neck, “wouldn’t that be nice, baby? My fat cock filling you up?”

“But- but we can’t,” you babble, gasping when he pushes his cock in a little more, “Leon- oh fuck-”

Your words die on your tongue when Leon drives his hips into you, cock filling you up completely. A strangled moan leaves you, head tipping back as you cry out, Leon groaning as he pounds his hips into you.

“Take it, sweetheart,” he grunts, hand smoothing over your hair as he kisses your cheek messily, “doing so good, made to take my cock, my sweet girl.”

The praise is making your eyes roll to the back of your head, legs tightening around his hips as your nails claw down his back.

“Kiss,” you whine, lips parting for Leon, “kiss me.”

Leon lets out a low growl, his lips crashing onto yours, cock dragging in and out of your clenching walls rapidly. The sounds of your skin clapping together fills his apartment, but you’re too cockdrunk, too utterly gone to have any care in the world. All you can think about is his weight on top of your body, his lips dragging across your skin, his cock pounding into you.

“Squeezing me so tight,” Leon moans, “gonna make me cum, baby.”

You nod rapidly, cunt clenching around him as the coil of pleasure in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

“Leon!” you wail, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, body twitching.

“Cum,” he grunts, squeezing your hips tightly, “c’mon baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cream my fucking cock.”

His lips slot over yours and you whimper, kissing him back needily as you shake in his grasp, orgasm racking through you as you cum.

“Fuck-” Leon whispers, feeling the clench of your cunt around his cock, “baby, baby, baby.”

His hips stutter, his head falling between your breasts, soft pants filling the air as he cums. Leon’s hot cum floods your pussy, another whimper escaping you as you feel his cock twitch.

You both lay there, chests heaving.

“I hate you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Yeah,” Leon rasps, “I know.”

He kisses you anyways.

Your boyfriend’s been promoted.

It’s how you find yourself here, latched onto his arm as he talks with his colleagues with a tight smile on your face. Unfortunately for you, Leon happens to work at the same place which is why you spend most of your time trying to avoid him.

You’d tried to get out of attending the anniversary dinner, too ashamed and sick to your stomach, but your boyfriend had pleaded with you, which had only made you feel guiltier.

You can’t escape Leon’s gaze either. His eyes bore into you no matter where you go in the spacious venue and it gets to the point where you’re telling your boyfriend that you need to get some fresh air. There’s a fire escape and you take your chance, pushing past the heavy door to suck in a deep breath of the cool night air. The expanse of the city lies out before you, buildings lit up and roads bustling with traffic. You rub your aching temples, eyes squeezing shut.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to cool down for long, not when Leon’s joining you. He looks as handsome as ever, especially in a suit, his hair combed back neatly.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Go fuck yourself, Leon,” you hiss out, pointing your finger at him accusingly.

A lazy grins spreads across his face, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. Your hands land against his chest, breath hitching when he lowers his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

“Fuck me yourself, hm?”

You end up bent over the railing with Leon’s fat cock stuffed inside of you. He grips your hips roughly, groans as you cry out into the night, peppers kisses over your shoulder and shoves his fingers into your mouth while he whispers sweet nothings to you.

“You’re my girl.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy

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earthtooz · 9 months ago

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cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader

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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”

“Good.”

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.

Tattoos.

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.

He has a point.

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.

Don’t back down.

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“It’s his fault.” You murmur.

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours.

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”

You nod. “Ozone.”

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.

That word again.

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.

Ask for one thing that you want.

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.

You could ask for something that’s not material.

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.

You can want this.

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.

You want this.

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

This isn’t a want.

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.

“Come in.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

NEXT ->

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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