#i too am desperate for fine shyt 😭 come home to me kashimo come home to papa (me and the five kashimo fans on this site 🎉)

[nanamiskentos]

Begging you to write something for Kashimo you're the only writer I've seen that actively writes for him please i will literally suck you off (pretend I just didn't type that, i'm just desperate for fine shyt)

I CAN DO A LOT WITH FIFTEEN MINUTES ❛ hajime kashimo won't ever admit defeat, even if there's a time constraint. he just has to make you finish ❜

cw — afab!reader, MDNI, marking, édging, kashimo doesn't fw gojo, thigh ríding, inappropriate jujutsu usage, gojo cameo, fíngéring

"i kinda' ship them, wouldn't you agree?" you're snapping your glossy mouth, gently gnawing on your lower lip. straddled over a toned, muscular thigh, with your back pressed against a washboard, deliciously carved abdomen, "hakari and kirara, right?"

you hear a clever tongue click absent-mindedly behind the soft shell of your ear, "i do not understand this, i may find them . . insufferable, but are they not friends of yours?" you can hear the strained confusion colouring kashimo's voice, that, and the impatience as he's hissing and sucking a quick draw of breath between teeth as you lean back into him just a little bit more, "why would you send them off on a boat?"

ah, sometimes it's easy to forget that the sharp-tongued, bratty, teal-haired sorcerer ( who spends his days attempting to pick fights with anyone who looks at him 'funny' ) is yet to fully swap out his birth-tongue medieval vernacular for something a bit more up to date.

"it means that i think they'd look cute together, 'jime," you sigh, hearing kashimo sigh, loud and heavy, before opting to bury his face into the crook of your neck. if only to nip at the soft flesh there, awaiting the blooming petals of the pink and violet bruises he so loves to see there.

"that's nice, little dove," kashimo murmurs, and you can tell that he's doing his best to indulge your gossip and conversation, but the thick curve that's straining against the loose drape of his martial pants is making it quite difficult for him to focus, "but we do not have long before everyone is scheduled to meet here. and the last thing i wish for is that irritating, white-haired upstart to kick up a fuss."

"who?" you frown, a soft whine slipping from your lips as kashimo's strong hands find a firm grip on your waist, gently beginning to move you back and forth in a slow rocking motion, "gojo?"

"if i do not like someone, i will not indulge them by speaking their name."

sighhh, frankly what gojo thinks is the last thing on your mind right now. . . for all you can truly think about is the gentle, cloying strands of slick that must be pooling now in your underwear. stimulated by the soft brush of fabric creating an electrifying friction, dampening kashimo's pants with a translucent stain of your arousal.

you're so lost in the addictive sway of your cunt against the contours and muscle of kashimo's thighs, like the subtle pressure of a coiled spring just waiting to break loose, "feels s-so good, 'jime."

a rasp-rough chuckle from kashimo, his hands falling away from your hips and leaving you to rock yourself against his thigh in growing desperation. hands instead curling around your front to slide surreptitiously up your top, breezing past sensitive and pebbled skin to gently cup your breasts, tweaking and flicking, "yeah, yeah? thought so, heh, my fair lady."

but just as you're so, so close to seeing stars shoot across your vision, kashimo bounces his thigh, creating the most delicious jolt that suddenly breaks your rhythm and leaving you to kiss your climax a tearful goodbye, "what the f-fuck, i was gonna' –"

kashimo is so close to you, his face practically glued to the back of your neck that you can feel the flutter of his long, teal lashes as he rolls his eyes, "whaaat? you were gonna cum, was that it, little dove? is that why you're suddenly so –," a bandaged finger reaching around to wipe a stray, frustrated crystalline droplet from your teary eyes, "weak, mm? weak for my touch?"

"y-you're the one who said we didn't have long 'n –"

the same finger that was gently brushing over your weeping eye, gliding away the last remnants of your ruined orgasm, now presses over your lips, firm, "shh."

kashimo quickly spreads his thighs apart, and considering you had just been balancing on one, the action should have toppled your balance. but a veiny arm wraps your waist, keeping you in. . place pressed against his back.

instead, now your legs are spread wide, each ankle hooked around kashimo's calves so you balance precariously.

praying to god, to tengen, to every deity out there and throwing whoever you can quickly of in, that the training room door will remained closed for at least fifteen minutes. but it's hard to think rationally when kashimo is purring, still pressed to your back as he reaches around your waist to gently pull down your waistband.

"how filthy," he teases, "tsk', i've barely even touched you, and you're drippin' allll over my fingers." and while you'd like to keep your dignity intact, there's no denying that every prod of kashimo's padded fingertips against your pussy leaves the bandages soaked in your wetness.

"alright, little dove," kashimo murmurs, "here we go, keep ya' balance for me." and you wonder why he's bothering to give you a warning when your cunt is already spread by his hand, but in hindsight, it makes so much sense because like most things kashimo does, his pace is brutal and aiming to win.

in and out, in and out. the sloppy pshh and pop! of kashimo's fingers driving into your gummy walls has you keening, and it has the old sorcerer loudly moaning before he sucks in a breath, lips pressed together tightly like all he wants to hear right now is you, just you.

"ah, ah, 'jime," you writhe in his gasp, groaning as his fingers prod and curl in all the right places. sharp, pistoning motions that faintly crackle, you swear, heightening every sensation tenfold, "are you, f-fuck, are you seriously using –, oh my god!"

you can feel kashimo smile against your neck, and the soft press of his lips on your skin, "am i using what, love?" waiting for your answer that was never going to arrive, not with how kashimo's pumping his middle finger against that sweet spot, "ah, can't even speak now, 's a damn shame."

what a debauched sight the two of you must make. kashimo, flushed just from watching and hearing you fall apart on his lap, with his teal hair unbound. choppy, slick strands brushing his shoulders. you, with your legs pushed wide open, and wider still as kashimo jolts his own thighs apart further.

you're babbling now, riddled cries of the sorcerer's name, as he never lets up, not even once on the nasty pace. if you turn your head to fall back against kashimo's shoulder, you can taste the trail of salt-tears at the corner of your mouth, "baby, 'j-jime, so close now, baby."

"good, good," kashimo hisses, and you don't miss how he's furiously bucking his hips up, jolting you higher into his lap as he must chase some friction for his own release, "if you jus' hold onn, little dove."

a thumb messily gliding through your glossy mess to flick at your clit, all in conjunction with kashimo melding three fingers into your pussy, well, it's got you hurtling close and the sorcerer knows it, "three." he crooks his fingers inside and towards your groin, "two." sloppily running his thumb alongside the side of your clit, scooping, "one."

a devastating high that leaves you both panting, and your hips clenching and twitching, your arousal so plentiful that it's beginning to froth and pool at the edges of your pushed aside underwear. kashimo hisses, and then sighs, "made a mess, love." and you need not pointedly mention the dark stain on his loose, white pants.

"you look like a mess, 'jime." your legs feel utterly boneless but you make an effort to move, falling back into kashimo's surprisingly gentle, "i've got a hold of you." the sorcerer's laughing as you smooth your skirt down, grimacing at the slap of slick and sweat that's dampening your flesh.

kashimo's snapping his teeth around a loose tie that hangs off his wrist to scrape his cyan hair back up into his recognisable knots, "you know, if we had more time, little dove, i would have –" he makes a quick whistling sound, jerking his wrist over his groin and pointedly looking down to your shaking thighs, "but we had to make do."

it's a surprisingly crude gesture from the prudish sorcerer that makes you laugh, "and right on time, too. because i swear, if anyone had –"

"i swear to fucking god, you two pull that shit again, i'm going to fight sukuna early." yeah, right on time, because gojo's pushing open the training room door with one hand, the most disgusted look over his face that informs you that you didn't account for the sheer magnitude of six eyes.

gojo's bright-blue eyes swivel away from the turquoise-haired sorcerer now, to where you're shuffling sheepishly and avoiding kashimo's proud, fanged grin, "and you, control your boy toy. i don't have time for this shit."

you press your lips together in faint embarrassment in front of one of your oldest friends, all while kashimo is vaguely fiddling with his hands, making you wonder if he's about to pull out some new domain expansion that no one has heard of. but what you end up hearing is a satisfied 'aha!'.

"see, i'm getting the hang of these modern things." kashimo's fingers are curled into a tight fist, all save for the middle one, proudly flipping gojo off ( who just mutters some ominous portent about hoping that december 24 rolls around quicker )