#not a wide reader either | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sahkuna · 2 months ago

Text

LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under.

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself.

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom.

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!”

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement.

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver.

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off.

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.”

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means.

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”

Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him.

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question.

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him.

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.”

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant.

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that.

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally.

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either.

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown.

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space.

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer.

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.”

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil…

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot.

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question.

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone.

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric.

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor.

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat.

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you.

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy. “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!”

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?”

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake!

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake.

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation.

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?”

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true.

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other.

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that.

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back.

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.”

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?”

Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock.

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—”

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile.

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away.

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast.

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header.

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features.

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers.

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?! “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

#sahkuna!#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #I EDITED THAT PANEL TO LOOK MORE LIKE HIM (the hair)#mdni divider by cafekitsune

9K notes · View notes

gojonanami · 11 months ago

Text

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter.

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up.

It was him.

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak.

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises?

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers.

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,”

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment.

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,”

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile.

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped.

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,”

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze.

Fuck.

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,”

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—”

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked.

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break.

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?”

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?”

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks.

“I would,”

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile.

Fuck.

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears.

But how can you be quiet?

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck.

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,”

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass.

He’s huge.

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—”

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,”

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?”

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much.

He was too much.

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,”

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,”

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?”

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—”

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns.

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart.

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up.

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt.

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store.

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—”

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care.

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump.

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush.

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,”

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?”

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling.

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.”

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern.

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started.

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin.

“What are you—”

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,”

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type.

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?”

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,”

“Mahito—“

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money, “be a doll, won’t you?”

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?”

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?”

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice.

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?”

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.”

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling.

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger.

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods.

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot.

“I will,”

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip.

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,”

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.”

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze.

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—”

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—”

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,”

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—”

“Have another lesson?”

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you.

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue.

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt.

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was.

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—”

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,”

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release.

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure.

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you.

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks.

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much.

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light.

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach.

Your mouth runs dry.

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought.

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you.

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it.

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze.

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch.

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away.

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—”

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal.

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod.

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out.

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!”

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you.

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out, “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?”

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder.

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him.

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—”

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls.

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt.

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick.

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again.

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour.

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise.

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.”

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?”

You were picking up your boyfriend.

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.”

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

#sab [mlist]#choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo x you #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader

36K notes · View notes

cloudwisp · 4 months ago

Text

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #sylus #sylus x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace x reader #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus lnd #sylus l&ds #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace

9K notes · View notes

ttsukiimi · 6 months ago

Text

───〃★ C’MERE, BRING THAT D⍣CK HERE .ᐟ

〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ You’ve been a good wife—you really have! But when your husband’s boss confronts you about him cheating with his secretary, you just can’t help but take up his offer to get back at him.

〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ nanami x fem!reader, gojo x fem!reader, Sukuna x fem!reader, geto x fem!reader, cheating (not reader), smut (mdni), exhibitionism (sukuna, gojo), slight n⍣pple play, slight cl⍣t play, slight creamp⍣e (geto), full Nelson (gojo), office s⍣x.

〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ I was gonna add toji but realized his broke assss not the boss of anyone🤧

────〃ଘ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 - NICE ‘N SLOW

The wooden legs of his desk scrapped against the floor with every deep thrust, important paperwork scattered all over from how much he had you squirming from his slow, calculated movements. Your nails dug into the wood, scratching and latching onto the edge as your back arched, a cry of pleasure bubbling from your throat.

Was this wrong somehow? No. Your cheating scum of a husband should receive the treatment he’s given you. And you almost wished he’d walk in on the sight of his boss balls deep in his wife. Well, ex-wife, anyway.

Nanami leaned in to your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath fan past your neck, smelling his cologne and—fuck, you could feel his muscles through this suit against your back. “Hope you’ve finally found your worth. He never deserved you.”

His words entered one ear and came out the other with how hazy he had you feeling, cock penetrating you over and over in a cycle that had you feeling delirious. Your head spun, and the world seemed to blur from existence—except for Nanami; his hands, his words, his voice.

“I’ll make you feel better—cum better than he ever has.”

────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 - I’LL DO IT INSTEAD

Now, Satoru had always had his eyes on you. From the very first moment you came into the office, bringing your husband his forgotten lunch, he knew he had to have you. The whole interaction left him feeling bitter anyway—he only waved you off after he grabbed his lunch and refused to kiss you in front of his colleagues.

What kind of man was he?

Satoru had no problem fucking you in front of him, though.

You watched your husband’s wide eyes, embarrassed but basking in your sweet revenge. A smirk graced Satoru’s lips, his own focused on your husband’s flickering gaze from how he split your cunt open so lewdly to your bouncing tits as if in a trance.

“‘S how’s it feel? Watching your pretty little wife get ruined?” He breathed, strong arms folding you further into the full Nelson position he had you locked in. “You turned on, hm? Seein’ her lil’ cunt get fucked?”

Your eyes closed and your tongue lolled out, head thrown back onto Satoru’s shoulder as your hand came down to pinch your pulsing clit in circles.

Satoru peppered kisses upon your jawline and stopped by your ear. “Why don’t you tell him how good ‘m making you feel?”

────〃ଘ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 - DO IT BETTER!

You’d always had your eye out for your husband’s particularly hot and intimidating boss, though you’d always stray your gaze away from him out of respect and loyalty. Respect and loyalty that your husband never seemed to reciprocate.

And when his boss finally confirmed that he was cheating on you—you’d finally given into your fantasy of fucking him.

But this isn’t how you imagined your fantasy would go.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to you, either out of fear of what Sukuna would do or out of pure infatuation from how wet your cunt was. You sat on Sukuna’s lap, legs spread open for anyone and everyone to see—even your spouse whose face was a mix of anger and confusion.

He didn’t have the right to be mad right now.

You were almost about to curse him out when Sukuna slid in with one swift thrust. Your breath caught in your throat, tears already welling in your eyes as he began to move without giving you even a second to adjust to his abnormal size.

He bounced you on his lap, heavy balls smacking against your ass so loudly it resonated throughout the meeting room. His big hands groped your chest though your blouse, practically ripping it off you.

“I’ll show you fuckers how to properly fuck a pretty lil’ thing like her.”

────〃ଘ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 - LIKE YOU DESERVE

Heat creeped up into your face. You hadn’t expected your day to amount to anything—considering your husband’s boss had told you about his affair just a day before—but there you were, sat on the same man’s lap as he fucked up into your cunt.

I’ll fuck you like you deserve. Those were his words—the words that got you here in the first place.

Suguru’s fingers toyed with the hood of your clit, pinching the nub of nerves in such a gentle yet pleasurable way that had shocks of electricity rocking through you. Your legs shook and quivered with how wide he had you spread them, muscles beginning to feel sore after some amount of time.

But Suguru hadn’t had his fill yet, he had to show you—make you feel what your husband couldn’t do to your body. So, with his cock still pumping in and out of you recklessly, two fingers entered your mouth while his unoccupied hand pinched and twisted your hardened nipples.

“Suck,” he ordered, and you did. It was almost embarrassing how fast you complied, wrapping your tongue around his thick digits as you suckled on them, excess saliva dribbling down your chin.

And it was all so lewd. The ring of cum coating his cock from both your multiple orgasms, your red and pulsing clit, your moans—and shit. If Suguru knew one thing it was one thing only; he would keep his promise and fuck you like you deserve.

12K notes · View notes

teddybeartoji · 5 months ago

Text

18+ mdni; gn!reader

satoru likes jerking off in front of a mirror. no, scratch that – he fucking loves doing it.

fully bare, he sits on the bed in front of a body length mirror. the sun peeks from the window, kissing the freckles and scars on his body. there's a pink flush to his skin - his chest, his neck, his cheeks, the tips of his ears; he feels warm all over.

thighs spread wide open, he's leaned back on his one arm while his eyes are glued to his reflection in the mirror. his own hand feels hot on his tummy as he trails them over his pecs and his perked nipples. they're awfully sensitive and satoru can't help but hiss when he gives them a little squeeze. his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth and his dick twitches. he's so fucking hard.

pre-cum leaks from his aching tip, all swollen and deprived. he's been sitting here for a good while now – he loves edging himself; he conjures up the prettiest pictures of you in his head as he trails over his abs. he thinks about it being yours instead. your hand, your fingers.

he plays with his happy trail as he thinks about you nuzzling your face in it. his dick jumps again and he let's out a shaky laugh.

finally deciding to give in, he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and his eyes almost cross at the touch. but he refuses to shut them – still keeping them trained on his own body through the reflection in front of him. he tightens his fist as he pushes down a little, putting more pressure onto his sensitive balls.

his head lolls to the side as he watches a glob of pre-cum slide down the side of his shaft. he thinks about you licking it up. he thinks about you giving his aching dick a kiss. his pearly white teeth sink into the plush flesh of his lower lip, almost strong enough to draw blood when he moves his fist up, twisting his wrist as he goes over the leaky tip.

his hair is tousled and he's starting to sweat – he looks fucking good. all the work he's putting in at the gym is really showing under the afternoon sun; his muscles look more defined with the layer of sweat glistening over them and he's proud of what he's seeing. it's hot. he isn't afraid to admit that he thinks that he's sexy, that he looks amazing like this. even his cock looks pretty; rock hard and pink, pre-cum weeping from the slit as it bounces at every thought of you inside his head.

you and your gorgeous smile. you and your loving eyes. you and your stupid jokes. you and your... body. he feels like a bit of a creep thinking about you in such dirty ways when you're not even his.

yet.

pushing off his hand, he spreads his legs a little wider as he leans forward, getting more comfortable. his fingers stay wrapped around his length while his free hand goes to his stomach. he's so sensitive to every single sensation – no matter whether it's from his own touch or somebody else's.

he discovered something new a few days ago... his belly button is sensitive, too. he pumps his cock slowly, almost painflully so as he traces his navel. goosebumps raise on his skin despite him feeling anything but cold; his head feels dizzy in the best way possible, his tummy nice and warm. satoru circles the hole before pushing the tip of his finger in. it's feels so weird and so fucking good.

the sight of him sort of fingering his own belly button is strange, but satoru has never been one to stray from experimentation. he loves to try new things, he loves to have fun – and if a silly thing like this makes him feel so ridiculously good, then so be it. he's not gonna be ashamed of that.

he can't wait to let you do it to him either. he's even a bit excited to see your reaction to the offer – would you be weirded out or would you be into it? would you tease him for it, call him names? tell him that he's a freak? a pervert? he pushes into the tiny hole a little harder at the thought of you making fun of him, his fist tightening around his cock.

he spits down onto his cock and speeds up just a little, enjoying the slick sounds that fill the room. he stares at his own adam's apple, he watches it bob as he swallows. he thinks about having something down his throat. he thinks about how it would look, how it would feel. he moves his free hand to touch the sensitive skin of his neck and puts some pressure on it – the broken moan that ripples from him echoes around the whole apartment and he just wishes you were here to listen to him.

his eyes are low as they set on his heavy cock again. he tries to imagine his hand as your own – he needs to do it. he wants you to touch him so badly, he wants you to make him feel good. of course, he thinks about making you feel good aswell; he spends so, so much time on thinking about giving you head. about the way you'd taste, the way you'd whine and whimper. how you'd squirm below him as he fucks you into overstimulation. but he does like to think about you down on his knees in front of him too. he wants to be greedy. he is greedy.

taking his hand from his neck, he now cups his balls with a pleased sigh. he massages them, letting his own spit and cum cover them completely. it's messy, just the way he likes it. he feels it dripping down to his asshole and he can't keep his lips from tugging upward. his eyes trail up his body through the reflection – his sweaty abs, his pecs, his flushed neck; his plump and now a little swollen lips and the pink tint that's dusted across his cheekbones. he's quite fond of his dimples and he loves seeing them. he thinks they make him even better looking, more charming. they do.

satoru thinks about the way you always poke them whenever you have the chance. would you do it now too that he's here jerking off to disgusting thoughts of you like the needy boy that he is? he thinks about the way you like to rest your head on his shoulder and hide your face into the crook of his neck whenever he tries to tease you a little. how warm your breath feels on his skin. how your lips brush against his pulse point.

fuck.

as he fondles with his balls, he gnaws on his lip because he needs to feel more. he wants you to bite it instead, he wants you to play with him instead. taking his hand from his crotch, he lets it travel all over his body again – his thighs, his waist, his lower tummy. everything feels so fucking good. his hips buck up into his fist when his fingers dance around his belly button once more. his head lolls back but he never takes his eyes off from himself in the mirror. he moves up to massage his pecs now, his sensitive nipples. he wants to feel your tongue on them. he can't stop thinking about it – your teethmarks around the buds, the bruises you'd leave behind.

he grinds his cock into the tight little hole he's made with his hand, lips permanently stretched into a sick grin because he knows it's coming already. the knot in his tummy keeps tightening, his need growing with every stroke he makes. he thinks about holding it off but decides that he won't do it today; he's meeting you in an hour – he's going to have to jerk off again after that anyway.

satoru plays with his nipple while rubbing the swollen tip of his cock with his palm and oh, fuck he's close. he thinks about how warm you'd feel around him. he thinks about your pretty face. he makes his fist even smaller and humps into it, mainly focusing on the tip. it's just so sensitive and it feels so fucking good. he thinks about you wrapping your lips around it, about you licking at the slit. he thinks about your smile. how much better your hand would feel on him. the wet noises that emit from the friction between his fingers and his cock make his heart beat even faster – dirty, dirty, dirty. he thinks about recording the sounds and sending them to you. he thinks about videoing himself through the mirror; he wants you to see what he's seeing.

every twitch and every spasm, the muscles he's worked so hard on, his dimples, his fingers, the mess he's making for you. he rubs his free hand over his tummy, his belly button and he thinks about your eyes and—

white spurts of cum land on his hands and his belly and his happy trail. satoru moans with a smile on his face - he doesn't hold back, now finally letting his eyes close as his head falls back. he keeps fucking into his fist despite how much it feels. he loves it.

after a good few seconds, he finally cracks open his eyes and peeks at himself again. he looks like a mess. it's perfect. he let's go off his softening dick, focusing on the cum adorning his skin instead. he takes a finger and swipes through the thick liquid; he drags it all over his lower stomach, playing with it like a child. he pushes some of it into his belly button and chuckles breathlessly at his own silly antics. he doesn't care.

his phone dings, signaling an incoming message and to his delight – it's you. satoru hums at the sight. it's a simple text, just something about buying him sweets from the store but it has his dick twitching against his thigh again.

maybe he has time for a round two before meeting you...

+ everybody say thank you logan we love you @staryukis this one is for you baby<333333

8K notes · View notes

satori-runa · 12 days ago

Text

—Come and love me

Summary: Mr.Crawling has different ways to love you.

Tags: Smut, Praise Kink, Cockwarming, Body Worship, Mutual Mastubation, Female reader, fluff, Spoilers for ENDING 04

Words: 1,8k

MDNI, ADULT CONTENT UNDER CUT

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mr. Crawling is someone who craves the comfort of human touch, but he’s always considerate of your boundaries. No matter how much he yearns for affection, he puts your comfort first, often suppressing his own desires to ensure you’re at ease.

Still, he can’t help but get a bit whiny when you return after a long day outside. On the days when you ask him to stay home, he becomes lonely and restless, waiting impatiently for you. He often lies on your bed with his head nestled on your pillow, inhaling your scent to soothe himself until he hears your footsteps approaching the front door.

The moment you step inside and praise him for being well-behaved, he lights up completely. Mr. Crawling has a serious praise kink, and it’s evident. Mr. Crawling is practically addicted to your praise; it’s like his own personal drug. The second you open your mouth and let a sweet, honeyed word slip out, he’s already trembling with delight. He reacts instantly, a visible shiver of pleasure rolling through his body, mouth going wide as he drinks in every syllable. It’s not just about the words themselves but the way you say them—soft and genuine, like you really mean it. It makes him feel so loved, so needed.

He can’t hide how badly he wants it, how desperate he is for your approval. Even the smallest bit of praise, like a simple "Good boy," can have him biting his lip, his breath hitching as if you’ve touched him in the most intimate way. The effect is almost comical; his face flushes, and he looks like he’s on cloud nine, squirming slightly like he can’t quite contain himself. He craves it so deeply that he actively seeks it out, doing whatever he can to earn your compliments. Of course he deserves a treat for his good behavior.

The treat he prefers most is one he chose himself. Nothing satisfies him more than when you settle into his lap and cockwarm him, taking him by surprise as you sink down onto his length. The sudden feeling of you enveloping him never fails to draw out a choked gasp, his hips twitching up instinctively as he tries to control himself. He loves this position more than anything—the closeness, the intimacy of it. He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging as if you might slip away if he lets go. He’s reluctant to release you unless you explicitly ask him to; he’d keep you there forever if he could.

He savors the way your body fits perfectly against his, the softness of your skin against his cooler touch. He buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, his lips grazing your pulse as he shudders at the feeling of your warmth surrounding his cock.

He tries so hard to stay still, knowing you need this quiet moment of comfort, but it’s almost impossible for him. His hips shift ever so slightly, his cock throbbing inside you, and he can’t help the tiny, desperate movements he makes, even if they’re unintentional.

He can’t keep his hands to himself either. His fingers are restless, wandering across your body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. He takes moments to worship you, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your shoulders, any spot he can reach. His kisses are soft but hungry, lips parting as he drags his tongue over your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat. He lets out a needy, broken moan as his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. He’s inexperienced, a little clumsy with his movements, but the eagerness behind it is undeniable. He’s trying so hard to make you feel good, his breath coming out in hot, ragged pants as he watches your reactions intently.

It’s not always sexual, at least not in the way he intends. Sometimes he just wants to feel you, to savor the heat of your body pressed against his, to revel in the way your warmth spreads through him. He loves the sensation of your skin against his own, the soft give of your flesh under his fingertips. But he can’t help himself; even when he’s just trying to hold you, he ends up teasing you without realizing it. His hips roll up slightly, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest. He’s so sensitive, so easily overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him, that every little movement you make drives him wild.

He’s not practiced or skilled, and it shows in the way he fumbles, his touches uncoordinated but full of raw desire. He pinches your nipples a little too hard, a whimper escaping his lips when he realizes it, but instead of pulling back, he leans in closer, mouthing at the swell of your breast like he’s making up for it. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to keep himself from thrusting up into you. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to savor the moment or chase after more, and it leaves him caught in this desperate, needy place that only you can pull him out of.

When it comes to mutual masturbation, it’s a different kind of intimacy, one that he’s hesitant about at first but quickly grows to crave. He hates touching himself when he’s alone, but with you, it’s different. You’re right there with him, your hand entwined with his, guiding him through the motions. He watches you, excited and breathless, his own hand trembling as he mirrors your movements. There’s something incredibly intimate about the way you both touch yourselves together, a shared vulnerability that makes his heart race.

He loves it when you talk to him through it, whispering sweet nothings, telling him how good he looks, how well he’s doing. It makes the experience bearable—no, more than that—it makes it beautiful. He’s not embarrassed when he’s with you: he’s not self-conscious or insecure. He’s just caught up in the moment, in the way your bodies move together, the way your breath hitches and syncs up with his.

When your hand finds his, coaxing him to stroke himself while you do the same, he whimpers softly, his fingers twitching against your palm. It’s overwhelming for him, the sensation of his own touch combined with the sight of you doing the same. He can’t stop himself from moaning, a needy, broken sound that escapes his lips as he watches you, completely captivated by the sight. "Me like you." You might whisper, and it takes everything in him to comply, the combination of your voice and your gaze making his whole body tremble.

You can tell how much he loves it by the way he leans into you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he touches himself with your guidance, whimpering in between. He’s panting, mouth open, like he’s too lost in the pleasure to look at anything else. The moment you reach out and wrap your hand around his, helping him stroke himself, he lets out a desperate moan, his entire body shivering as he clutches onto you. He’s a mess, but he’s your mess, completely undone by the shared pleasure and the feeling of your touch.

Mr. Crawling can be so eager when it comes to pleasuring you in return, that it borders on frantic. He doesn’t always take his time—sometimes, when he’s overwhelmed with excitement and craving you desperately, all of his usual patience flies out the window. He’ll drop between your legs, pulling you closer with a roughness that’s uncharacteristic for him, but it’s not out of aggression: it’s pure, unfiltered need. His hands are trembling as they grip your thighs, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. He’s already panting, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and it makes him that much more impatient.

He dives in without hesitation, his mouth pressing against you hungrily, almost clumsily, as if he can’t bear to wait a second longer. His tongue flicks out, sloppy and uncoordinated at first, but it’s the urgency behind it that makes it so intoxicating. He’s lapping at you like a man starved, the sounds he makes—soft whimpers and desperate groans—filling the room. He’s inexperienced, but there’s something endearing about the way he tries so hard, so eager to please you even if he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. He’s guided more by instinct than skill, following your reactions like they’re the only thing that matters.

He keeps glancing up at you, his face excited and yet almost pleading, as if he’s searching for reassurance that he’s doing it right. When he sees your pleasure written across your face, it only spurs him on. He loses himself in it, licking at you with a feverish intensity that makes it clear just how badly he needs this. He doesn’t bother with precision: he’s messy, licking you with broad, hurried strokes, his lips sucking at your clit with a desperate fervor. He moans into you, the vibrations sending little shocks of pleasure through your body, and you can tell he’s getting off on this as much as you are.

His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, like he’s afraid you might pull away. He’s whimpering into you, his tongue moving erratically, like he’s trying everything at once, too caught up in his own excitement to settle into any kind of rhythm. It’s overwhelming for him—the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his hands, the sounds you make when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s panting between licks, his mouth never straying far from you, desperate to keep going even when he’s gasping for breath.

He’s a little too rough at times, sucking at your clit with a bit too much pressure, but the enthusiasm in his actions makes it hard to fault him for it. He’s learning from your reactions, his own inexperience showing through in the way he fumbles a bit, but it only adds to the intensity of the moment. When you tug on his hair, moaning out his name, he practically whines, grinding his face into you with renewed fervor. He’s almost overwhelmed by his own need, licking and sucking like he can’t get enough, like he’s trying to memorize every part of you with his mouth.

If you try to guide him, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging gently to slow him down, he lets out a frustrated, needy sound, shaking his head as if to tell you he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to pace himself. He’s too lost in the moment, too eager to please, to care about taking his time. He’s devouring you like he’s afraid this is his only chance, like he’s desperate to prove how much he wants you, how much he loves being here, between your legs, giving you everything he can.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #homicipher mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #mr crawling #mr crawling smut #homicipher smut #homicipher x reader #homicipher fanfiction #homicipher

4K notes · View notes

tonycries · 8 months ago

Text

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing.

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h.

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly.

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air.

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome.

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real?

You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.

But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique.

“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot.

You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks.

Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”

You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo?

In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.

God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.

You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.

Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-”

And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.

Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine.

And then it’s all black.

To match his eyes.

---

The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact.

Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into?

Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment.

Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that.

With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.

And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”

You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”

Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.”

You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-”

“It’s al-”

“I swear I’ve seen ankles-”

A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.”

And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about.

Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”

And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling.

As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.

You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso.

It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.

You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye.

Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve.

At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.

“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-

Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.

Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.

…

Nahhh.

Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.

Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.

And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again.

His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.

Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.

So he does have nipple piercings.

God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.

As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.

The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.

“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.

Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,”

You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”

His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”

“Oh, it’s on now.”

“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.

Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.

---

Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.

Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him.

But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”

“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”

Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”

Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that-

A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.

Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…

Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory.

Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.

So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.

Like, right now.

Shit.

With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.

And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.

With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you.

Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.

With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock.

Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.”

Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-

He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock?

One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well.

Or maybe…

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins.

Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”

“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him.

All for him.

It’s too much.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.”

Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon.

Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind.

Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand.

Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.

But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.

Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could.

“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”

“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”

You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him.

You.

And then he’s cumming.

A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-

You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.

You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.

Shit.

Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.

But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him.

Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-

…

God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow.

Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course.

Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.

…

Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved.

Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.

Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.

At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.

Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.

And you didn’t mind?

In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-

Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?

You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-

Click!

You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

---

You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies

And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.

You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.

Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt.

Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time.

It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.

“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R.

It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.

You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?

And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right?

It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.

Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.

Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.

Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.

Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.

Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.

This was absolute torture.

“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.

His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”

You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”

Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success.

“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him.

A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm.

“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”

His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.

You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”

It was like something snapped.

Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.

Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.

Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.

You minx.

Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.

God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.

Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.

“Kiss me, you fool.”

And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.

With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing.

You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”

Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.

Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.

Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting.

“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue.

“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that.

Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-

Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.

Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.

You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously.

And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?”

You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”

Smack!

The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.

“What was it, sweetheart?”

You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”

“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions.

God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”

And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples.

Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping.

Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.

Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing.

“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips.

He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.

Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face.

He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”

Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-

His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.

“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue.

Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”

As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.

Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water.

Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.

So you do.

Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide.

“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need.

You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you.

And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue.

“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”

Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs.

You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could.

Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life.

A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.

He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl.

Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”

“Feels perfect.”

But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.

Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.

Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.

Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-

Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.

Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips.

Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.

So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same.

Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat.

Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later.

Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face.

You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt.

“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.

And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well.

“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him.

Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more.

You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty.

And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.

The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.

“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”

A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”

Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.

Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.

You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass.

“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them.

Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?

“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.

And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”

The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”

His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?

“Wha-”

And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.

Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.

Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him.

But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.

There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.

Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.

“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”

You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.

And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders.

Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more.

Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him, “More? My sweetheart wants more?”

And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get.

“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.

And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.

Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”

“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.

“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”

You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”

You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”

“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.

Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”

“I know.”

“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”

“Choso, just kiss me.”

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you.

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut.

White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.

It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want.

As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully.

A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.

In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.

Too afraid to break you.

To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.

And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.

“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually.

“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves.

Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”

“Nope.”

Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed.

“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.”

Except maybe those.

You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.

Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.

“Well, we still have time so how about-”

A distant click!

“Honey, we’re home~!”

Shit.

A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

16K notes · View notes

sugoroo · 2 months ago

Text

SHARING IS CARING!

ʚɞ summary: satoru agrees to share his girlfriend with kento for one night to help ease some of the stress he’s been under lately! but that doesn’t mean he’s going to make it easy for his co-worker.

warnings: fem!reader, voyeurism, cuck!satoru, oral (m receiving), breast play, penetration (p in v), fingering, pussydrunk nanami, squirting, praise kink, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.1k

despite how much satoru enjoys teasing his co-worker kento nanami, he can see how much stress the other man has been under lately. it’s clear from the heavy bags underneath his eyes, the way his back is almost permanently hunched in exhaustion.

the white-haired sorcerer spent an embarrassingly long amount of time in his office brainstorming different ideas to attempt to cheer nanami up. his usual go-to for anyone else would be to buy them some sweets, but he has a feeling that wouldn’t be too appreciated in this situation.

and then, after his phone buzzed with a newly received text from you: his pretty little girlfriend who was currently waiting for him at home — a lightbulb lit up in his head.

he could give you to nanami to cheer him up.

well, when he says ‘give’, of course he really means lending you to nanami. a one-time only gift (that must be returned after use) as it were.

and satoru will unarguably be present to observe the entire interaction too — he has to make sure nanami treats his sweet girl the way she deserves, after all. if the other man was to leave you unsatisfied, he would very possibly have to hollow purple him.

(and he also wouldn’t be completely opposed to watching his much-too-uptight co worker unravel before his eyes, either. but he’ll keep that part to himself.)

pleased with his newest idea, satoru practically skips along the halls on the way to nanami's office, a wide grin stretched across his lips and anticipation buzzing throughout his body.

"hellooo, nanamin!" he coos obnoxiously once he arrives outside his co-worker's office, craning his neck to peek his head around the doorway. "you in here?"

nanami audibly sighs at the sound of the white-haired man's voice, glancing up briefly from his desk with an unimpressed look pulling at his visibly exhausted features. "yes, gojo, i'm clearly in here. what is it you want this time?"

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering as he steps fully inside the office. it's clear he's up to no good (even more so than usual), given the way he's practically vibrating on the spot with excitement.

"well?" the blonde man prompts impatiently, his eyes already cast back down to the various piles of paperwork splayed across his desk. he's evidently in no mood to deal with satoru's mischief.

"now now, don't rush me!" he huffs in response, his lower lip jutting out in an overdramatic pout despite knowing nanami isn't even looking in his direction right now. "this is a very... sensitive topic. so i'm gonna need you to pay suuuper close attention. got it?"

at this, nanami looks up from his papers, his annoyance slowly morphing into cautiousness. "sensitive how? this better not be about you wanting to know how many people i've bedded in the past, because i already told you that i will never dignify such a shameless question with an answer."

"what? no! it's not about that," satoru chuckles amusedly, before tapping the bottom of his chin with a slender finger in a theatrical display of thought. "....although, i really should find out the answer to that eventually."

nanami rolls his eyes all the way to the back of his head behind his goggles, bringing two fingers up to rub his temple. "i don't have time for this, gojo. whatever it is you came here to ask, will you just spit it out already?"

"alright, alriiight!" the white-haired sorcerer whines petulantly, sauntering further into the office and leaning his elbows against his co-worker's desk like he owns the place. "so, i've noticed you've been under a lot of stress lately—"

"which is none of your business, might i add." the other man deadpans bluntly, his lips set into their usual tight line as he regards satoru.

"sure. but, as your co-worker and friend, i've decided to make it my business," he retorts without missing a beat, waving a pale hand dismissively in nanami's direction as he continues speaking. "and i've come up with the perfect solution to cheer you up!"

nanami raises a blonde eyebrow at this, visibly still cautious but (hopefully) a little curious now. "oh, have you now?" he mutters tightly, attempting to hide the subtle interest hiding under his tone. but satoru notices, because of course he does.

"mhmm," satoru croons mischievously, his grin morphing into a little smirk as he leans further across the desk. "would you like to hear it, nanamin?"

the interest in his colleague's expression is gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by irritation yet again as he releases a deep sigh. "i'm not in the mood for your games, gojo. are you going to tell me or not?"

"ugh, fine," the white-haired man groans dramatically, rolling his eyes behind his blindfold. "can't blame a guy for trying to build up a little suspense."

satoru rifles around in his pocket for a few moments before pulling out his phone, instantly thrusting the device directly into nanami's face with absolutely no context.

"what—" nanami begins, his words quickly trailing off into an unintelligible sound of some description once he catches sight of the picture being displayed on his colleague's lock screen. "oh."

"like what you seee?" he coos obnoxiously from behind the phone, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to get a better view of the other man's reaction. "just kidding - i know you do."

"this... is that your girlfriend?" the blonde man croaks out, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically flustered. "and why is that your lockscreen, for the love of god?"

satoru just shrugs nonchalantly, jerking the phone back towards himself and taking a moment to admire the photo of you. it's your pretty body, completely bare on his bed, perky breasts on full display and smooth legs spread wide to reveal your abused pussy which was just oozing with ropes of his goopy cum.

"yes, it's my girlfriend," he hums proudly, shoving the device back into his pocket before fixing nanami with another wide grin. "and why not? it's not like anyone else sees it except me. until now, obviously."

"right," the other man breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly in a poor attempt to try and compose himself. "and, pray tell, why did you feel the need to show me that?"

satoru huffs dramatically, as if having to actually explain the proposition he's come up with is taking a serious toll on him. "come onn, nanamin. use that brilliant brain of yours! i say i have a way to relieve some of your stress, and then i show you that picture..."

nanami visibly tenses as the realization of what his colleague is suggesting washes over him, his eyes narrowing into cautious slits. but he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, just in case he misinterpreted his words, so he settles for saying — "is this another one of those highly unamusing pranks of yours, gojo?"

the white-haired man rolls his eyes yet again, leaning even closer over the desk and tilting his head to the side in a playful manner. "you really think i'd show you a naked picture of my girl if this was just a prank?"

as much as it irks nanami to admit, even to himself, his co-worker does has a point there.

"touché." he grumbles under his breath, trying his best to keep up his uninterested façade despite how obviously affected he is by seeing that picture of you; needless to say, he thinks satoru is a very lucky man.

"that's all you're gonna say? touché?" satoru repeats incredulously, throwing his hands up in the air theatrically. "no 'yes please, gojo, i'd love to get me some of that'?"

"first of all, i would never say it so crudely," the blonde man retorts with his nose wrinkled in not-so-subtle disgust, shaking his had faintly. "and second of all, i'm not the sort of man who takes what doesn't belong to him."

satoru snorts out a loud laugh at this. "ugh, drop the serious act for a minute, nanamin! it's not like you're stealing her away from me or anything. i'm just offering some... one-time only stress relief, that's all."

"whatever you say, gojo," he mutters dismissively, waving a hand in his direction before rubbing his temple yet again. "even if i was to consider such a proposition, have you asked your girlfriend if she would be willing to participate?"

"yeah, sooo, about that..." satoru responds in an elongated hum, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.

"satoru—"

"wait, wait! just let me explain," the white-haired man squeaks hurriedly, waving around his hands theatrically. the rare use of his first name from his colleague clearly shows just how annoyed he is at this point. "i was so excited when i came up with the idea that i kinda-maybe-definitely forgot to ask her."

"why am i not surprised?" nanami huffs bluntly, clearly losing whatever interest he may have begrudgingly gained when he saw the photo.

but just before he can return to his work, satoru quickly speaks up again. "hey, wait just a minute! she's my girl, and i know my girl. she'll say yes."

nanami pauses for a few moments, silently cursing the way he's actually considering this insane proposition. but there's two facts he can't deny — one: he has been under a lot of stress lately, and he wouldn't exactly mind releasing it. and two: satoru's girlfriend is incredibly attractive.

much to his chagrin, he doesn't have a good reason to say no.

"...alright."

and that's how kento nanami finds himself standing outside your and satoru's apartment a week later, his fist hovering just above the door as he attempts to process what's awaiting him on the other side.

he can't quite believe he's actually going to 'release his stress' by using satoru's pretty little girlfriend who he's never even met before today. but he knows that not going through with it isn't an option — especially when he'll have to endure his colleague's relentless teasing afterwards.

so he knocks.

and it's you who opens the door, dressed in nothing but one of satoru's old shirts that is definitely much too long for you, the baggy fabric practically swallowing you whole as you stand before nanami.

"oh!" you gasp in realization as you look up at him, a small smile spreading across your lips as you kindly extend a hand to the man in front of you. "you must be kento! toru's told me a lot about you."

nanami, much to his own embarrassment, takes a few long moments to recover from the sight of you. somehow, you're even more beautiful in person than you were in that photo on his co-worker's lockscreen (despite being much more... clothed now.)

"ahem. yes, that's me," he murmurs after swallowing roughly, taking your hand in his own to give it a quick shake. he tries not to let his eyes linger too long on the size difference between them; how your hand practically disappears beneath his. "all good things, i hope?"

"oh, of course." you chuckle softly, stepping to the side and opening the door a little wider in a silent initiation for him to come inside. this is it — his last chance to just blow this whole thing off and drive home.

but he doesn't take that chance.

instead, he shuffles inside with a polite smile in your direction, pulling his other hand from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of flowers he'd bought on the way over here; he wasn't exactly sure what was an appropriate gift for someone else's girlfriend who was going to let him have sex with her, so he settled for some simple roses.

you close the door behind the two of you, your eyes widening when they fall on the flowers. how very... gentlemanly. you hadn't expected him to bring any type of present tonight — from what you'd gathered from satoru, this was going to be a very transactional exchange.

"sorry... is this too forward?" nanami mutters a little awkwardly, toying with the petal of one of the roses. "if you don't want them, i can go put them back in my—"

"no, no! they're beautiful," you say quickly, grasping the bouquet from him with a warm smile stretching across your lips. "it's really sweet of you. i just wasn't expecting it, that's all."

the blonde man seems to relax slightly at this, his tensed shoulders slowly deflating and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it's clear he's never done anything like this before; but then again, neither have you.

but when satoru had come to you with the idea of helping out his thoroughly overworked colleague and friend, who also happened to be quite handsome (in your boyfriend's words), you couldn't help but agree.

and satoru definitely underestimated kento's appearance with that measly description. he's more than quite handsome — he's gorgeous, with those well-kempt blonde locks and that ridiculously sharp jawline that could probably cut glass.

...let's just say you're not having any last minute regrets about agreeing to this.

"so, how about you go and make yourself comfortable in the living room while i put these in some water?" you suggest kindly, gesturing to doorway on the left as you head in the direction of the kitchen with the bouquet in your hands.

nanami nods in agreement, ducking his head to fit underneath the doorframe as he saunters into the living room of your apartment. it's cozy and small, with little trinkets that just scream satoru gojo scattered around the area.

of course that man has to make even his living room as chaotic as he is.

he plops down onto the couch, his still somewhat tense body sinking into the comfortable material. he feels more relaxed already than he has in months — it must be something to do with the warm atmosphere in your home (or the promise of what's to come.)

his respite doesn't last for long, however, because satoru comes bounding down the stairs, his blindfold askew and his grin wide when he notices nanami sitting there in his living room. "heyyy, nanamin! you're actually here! i figured you'd chicken out last minute, honestly."

the blonde man rolls his eyes behind his goggles, shooting his colleague a thoroughly unimpressed look in response to his statement; as if he hadn't just been considering 'chickening out', as gojo put it, moments ago outside the front door.

but he doesn't have to know that.

"well, i didn't." he settles for sighing bluntly, raising a neatly trimmed eyebrow when satoru drapes himself across the couch next to him like an oversized cat, practically taking up every inch of spare space.

"what's that look for?" satoru snickers obnoxiously, slinging his lanky legs over nanami's lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "this is my house you're in right now, remember? i can do what i want."

before nanami can even think of replying, you start padding into the room, shooting your boyfriend what can only be described as a disapproving look. "toru, stop harassing our guest."

the white-haired man lets out a petulant whine in response, grasping your hips as soon as you draw close enough and pulling you down onto his lap. he buries his face in your neck, grumbling. "i'm not harassing him, baby! it's just our usual banter. riiight, nanamin?"

"right." he chuckles lightly, exchanging an amused glance with you over satoru's head at the other man's antics. he's more like a young, whiny child than a full grown adult; especially when he acts like this.

"hey, stop smiling at him!" satoru huffs overdramatically in protest, looking up at you from your neck with one of his bright blue eyes peeking out from under his blindfold. "you're supposed to be on my side, pretty girl."

"i am on your side, silly," you say with fond exasperation, bringing a hand up to ruffle his messy white locks affectionately. "are you seriously mad at me for getting along with your friend?"

"no, i guess not." he grumbles in response, nuzzling his face back into your skin like a beloved pet would do to its owner.

nanami can't help but find it fascinating how the strongest sorcerer and most popular teacher at jujutsu tech seems to completely melt in your presence — there must be something really special about you, and he feels honoured to be allowed to have you for himself; even if only for one night.

"so— uh, how does this... work?" the blonde man asks curiously after clearing his throat, looking between you and the manchild snuggling you in his lap with a carefully questioning gaze.

satoru giggles at this, turning his head to give nanami an obnoxiously teasing wink. "how does me letting you hit this..." he drawls playfully, his hand traveling down from your hip to lightly squeeze your ass. "...work, nanamin?"

nanami almost chokes on his own salvia in response to his colleague's blunt wording, but somehow he manages to compose himself (just). "...yes, i suppose. if you insist on being so lewd about it."

you let out a small chuckle at this, swatting your boyfriend's hand away from your ass and giving him a chiding look, to which he just shrugs innocently.

"i think it should be up to you, kento," you hum thoughtfully, resting your chin on satoru's head and peering over at the blonde man with an encouraging smile. "how would you like this to work?"

"ah, well..." nanami begins, finding his brain seems to have short-circuited at your suggestion. he gets to choose how he has you? jesus, how is even supposed to form a single coherent sentence with you smiling at him like that?

"oh, come onn, nanamin!" satoru whines, raising one of his legs from the other man's lap to kick at his chest with one of his socked feet. "want me to give you some ideas? hmm... how about you start with her perfect little mouth? it works wonders, y'know!"

nanami lets a choked sound escape from somewhere in the back of his throat at this, his wide eyes shooting to you for any signs of hesitance. but he finds none, no — you're still smiling at him in such a friendly way, as if your boyfriend isn't signing you up to suck another man off right in front of him.

"is that— can i... are you sure?" he stammers awkwardly, suddenly feeling like an inexperienced teenager rather than a fully grown man.

"it's fine with me," you say sweetly, each word so thick and honeyed, making nanami's head start to go a little hazy. he can already feel his trousers starting to grow uncomfortably tight just from the direction this conversation is going in. "would you like that, kento?"

"would i—" nanami swallows thickly, stopping his words before they can come out sounding too eager. "yes... yes, i believe i would."

satoru grins widely at his co-worker's admission, effortlessly lifting you up from his lap and placing you on the floor in front of the couch. you crawl the rest of the way across the carpet, coming to perch between nanami's manspread legs.

the blonde man audibly gulps when you bring your hands up to his thighs, shifting just a little on the chair to try and hide how much his body is reacting to your proximity.

"phewww... look at him, baby," satoru whistles amusedly with a mischievous smirk as he watches the interaction, obnoxiously pointing to the growing tent in nanami's slacks. "so worked up already."

you tut lightly, shooting another disapproving look in your boyfriend's direction. "stop teasing him, toru. he's probably just touch-starved."

"something you wouldn't understand, gojo," nanami pushes out through gritted teeth, trying his best to keep up his usual collected demeanour even when he feels your fingers graze over his bulge. "not when you have such a sweet little thing waiting for you at home everyday."

"hm. now that is true," the white-haired man hums in agreement, reaching over nanami's lap to give your hair a gentle, loving stroke. "my girl always knows how to keep me satisfied."

you smile warmly up at satoru, leaning your head into his touch slightly while your hand squeezes around his colleague's clothed erection — and, shit. you can tell just how big he is even through these tight trousers.

you've really got your work cut out for you here.

satoru is quick to help you out, grasping a cushion from the couch and leaning down to slide it underneath your knees to make the position more comfortable for you. ugh, your boyfriend is just so considerate— but tonight isn't about him. focus!

with better support on the floor, you reach up to pop open the button on the front of nanami's slacks, looking up at him through your lashes; and, god, he looks absolutely wrecked already. his cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink, and his goggle-clad eyes are staring anywhere but you.

despite how stoic he always was in satoru's descriptions of him, right now... kento nanami looks utterly adorable.

unzipping his fly, the only barrier between you and his monster of an aching cock is his expensive-looking boxers. and while at this point with satoru you'd usually do a little teasing, you figure with nanami, it's better to cut straight to the chase.

he clearly needs it.

so you dip your nails under the waistband of his underwear, carefully tugging it down to reveal your boyfriend's colleague in all of his touch-starved glory; cock just giant as it slaps against his clothed abdomen, all veiny and curved as the reddened tip leaks onto the couch.

"woww, nanamin!" satoru croons obnoxiously, fanning himself with his hand as if he's a prim and proper lady about to collapse from shock. "how big you are."

"do you really have to be here for this?" the blonde man retorts, shooting a glare so deadly in his friend's direction that if looks could kill... your boyfriend definitely would be six feet under.

"oh, absolutely," he drawls back without missing a beat, smirking smugly as he crosses his legs against nanami's lap, as if watching his girlfriend prepare to give his co-worker a blowjob is the most normal situation possible. "i'll be here the whooole time. better get used to it."

rolling your eyes at satoru's relentless teasing, you opt to distract nanami from the white-haired sorcerer's interjections by wrapping a hand around his bare length (let it be noted that you definitely cannot fit his entire girthy base in your grip.)

nanami lets out a raspy, broken groan at the contact, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he tries to keep himself together. but the way his cock visibly jumps under your touch doesn't go unnoticed by you or satoru.

"relax for me, kento," you coo sweetly, giving him a light squeeze to make sure he's paying attention to your words. "gonna make you feel good, yeah?"

he can only release a few incoherent mumbles in response, his head falling back against the couch when you start to languidly stroke him, moving your hand from tip to base with well-practised movements.

"fuck, that's so hot," satoru groans as he shifts a little closer to get a better view of you working his uptight colleague with your fist, his own sweatpants starting to visibly tent too. "keep going, pretty girl."

you smile again at the praise, your thighs rubbing together subtly underneath satoru's baggy shirt. but he notices it, because of course he does, he knows your body's reactions like the back of his hand. "see that, nanamin? she loves it when you praise her. i hope you're taking mental notes right now."

nanami can only watch in awe as you lean down to press your soft lips to the leaking tip of his cock, his brain completely scrambled already from only a few touches. jesus, he can't believe he almost didn't agree to take part in this; he’s silently thanking his past self for having the confidence to go through with it right now.

"that's... you're doing good— so good." he pushes out, the words more of a garbled mess than anything as his toned hips involuntarily buck lightly into your hand, in search of more and more friction.

a small, satisfied hum spills from your lips at the praise, your tongue instinctively flicking out to lap at the pearlescent rivulets of pre-cum just streaming from his pudgy tip.

it’s not as sweet as satoru’s — it has a bit more of a salty tang. but it’s not exactly unpleasant either, and you find yourself digging the tip of your tongue into his slit to gather more of the interesting new flavour.

"ah!" nanami gasps loudly, the sound escaping from him without permission. his eyes fly open to fall squarely on you as you start suckling on his tip, finding himself being rendered completely speechless at the way you’re making him feel already — and you’ve only just started.

he’s in for a long night.

“yeahh, she’s good, isn’t she?” satoru croons proudly from beside him, reminding nanami of his presence yet again. but he can’t bring himself to be too mad at his colleague when he’s giving him access to his perfect girlfriend with such a sweet mouth.

“mhm,” the blonde man grunts out, his head rolling to the side slightly. he quickly shuts his eyes, not wanting to catch sight of satoru while he’s receiving such intense pleasure; the last thing he wants is to ruin his upcoming orgasm. “you’re a lu— ah, a lucky man.”

“oh, i know i am,” satoru hums smugly, his hand still resting on your hair giving you a gentle push in a silent encouragement to move your head forward. “come on, baby. i know you can take more of him than that.”

with the help of your boyfriend’s guiding hand, you find yourself sinking more of nanami’s thick cock into your mouth, inch by girthy inch until your nose bumps against the small patch of trimmed blonde hair at the bottom of his abdomen.

“oh, fuuuck…” nanami groans roughly, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard his knuckles are whitening as he tries to hold himself back from just fucking into your mouth like a feral animal.

“it’s okay if you want be rough, nanamin,” the white-haired sorcerer murmurs against the shell of his ear, as if directly reading his thoughts. “she doesn’t mind. she’s your stress relief, remember?”

like the gentleman he is, nanami makes sure to make eye contact with you to check for any signs of hesitance first. but when he doesn’t find any; he just can’t hold himself back from thrusting his hips up into the wet cavern of your mouth.

you try your absolute best to kneel there and take it, but you simply can’t help the way you choke around his sheer length when his tip hits the back of your throat with a lewd thwack!, causing both he and satoru to moan in response.

“yeahhh, you look so pretty choking on nanamin’s cock, babygirl.” satoru groans proudly, trailing his spare hand down to leisurely palm the bulge in his own pants as he observes the scene before him.

your boyfriend’s praise makes you audibly mewl around the blonde man’s cock, the vibrations around his shaft making nanami slap satoru’s hand out of your hair to grab it himself, keeping you in place as he continues rutting into your mouth with reckless abandon.

“just like that, just like that.” nanami chants over and over like a mantra, starting to completely forget about any and all stress he has as he loses himself to the overwhelming pleasure you’re giving him.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” satoru chimes in with a satisfied smirk stretching across his lips as he leans in unnecessarily close to nanami’s ear to whisper. “don’t worry about pulling out, she’ll swallow it all.”

his colleague’s lewd words practically send nanami hurtling over the edge, his grip on your hair tightening to a borderline painful degree as he spills rope after rope of hot, thick cum straight down your throat.

it takes a few deep gulps for you to swallow everything nanami gave you, but there’s just so much of it that a few stray drops spill from the edges of your lips and onto the carpet. shit — you’ll have to clean that up later.

“thaat’s it. such a good girl,” satoru purrs warmly, his eyes alight with affection as he reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb, enjoying the dazed expression across your pretty features. “i think you broke nanamin, though.”

looking up at nanami, you can instantly see the visual evidence of what your boyfriend means by you breaking nanami.

the blonde man looks completely debauched — chest rapidly rising and falling as he pants harshly in an attempt to come down from the intensity of his orgasm and eyes squeezed shut so tightly it would appear that he's in some sort of pain if you didn't know better.

"you alright there, kento?" you ask half-teasingly, tapping his thigh gently to try and gain his attention. (it doesn't work; he's clearly out of it.)

satoru is grinning like a madman beside him on the couch, clearly more than pleased with how well his girlfriend is doing unravelling his uptight co-worker so far. "aww, what a shame! he's chickening out before he can even get a feel of your tight little pussy."

you huff, lean up to swat at the white-haired sorcerer's arm in an attempt to get him to shut up, which only causes him to scoop you up in his arms again and place a big wet kiss on your lips in retaliation, seemingly uncaring of the lingering tase of nanami on them.

giggling, you attempt to wriggle out of his grip, which accidentally causes your ass to brush against nanami's still half-hard cock as a result; and that seems to snap him right out of his reverie.

nanami's entire body jolts to attention, a low groan leaving his lips as he glances down at where you're unintentionally pressed against him. and, god, if your mouth made him cum that hard that he forgot where he was for a few moments, just how much better must your pussy be?

"finally back with us, hmm?" satoru drawls playfully, reaching around you to punch his colleague's shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing the blonde man to scowl in response.

"quiet, gojo." he mutters under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the slip of your panties he can just about see from underneath the hem of your baggy shirt.

oh, what he'd give for just one little taste right now...

"don't even think about it," satoru cuts in, snapping him from his thoughts. oh dear, did he say that out loud? he really does need to get control of himself. "if you taste her you'll get addicted, and we can't have that."

nanami can't help but feel slightly disappointed at this — he's always been the type to return the favour, and not being able to do the same for you makes a subtle frown tug at his lips.

but he knows that he has no right to ask for anything more than what he's being offered, seeing as you're not his. (and it's not like he can complain if he gets to be inside that pretty pussy that's been on his mind since satoru showed him his lockscreen last week.)

"are you just gonna sit there, nanamin?" satoru chuckles in teasing disapproval, shaking his head and lifting up the hem of your (his) baggy shirt to reveal the considerable wet spot painting the crotch of your panties. "or are you gonna hurry up and take care of my girl? you knoow, it's bad manners to leave a lady waiting while she's this needy."

"ahem. my apologies, darling," nanami mutters hoarsely, using every ounce of self-control he has left to forcefully tear his eyes away from your underwear and meet your eyes. he gestures to his lap, giving you the strongest smile he can muster right now. "would you like to take a seat?"

"still so well-mannered." you giggle lightly, although you oblige without question, crawling away from satoru to perch yourself upon nanami's wide thighs. he instinctively reaches out to grasp your hips with two large hands, keeping you steady.

"so... can i—?" nanami mutters quietly to satoru, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and not as if he's asking for permission to touch another man's girlfriend's cunt. jesus, is he out of his comfort zone right now.

"can you touch her? yes, yes, of course," the white-haired sorcerer replies quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if eager to get this underway already so he can sit back and enjoy the show. "oh, and you have to make her cum on your fingers atleast once before you can fuck her. house rules."

nanami isn't complaining about this rule.

he owes you an orgasm anyway, but when he slides your soiled panties to the side and gets an eyeful of your pretty pussy, he feels as if it would be a crime not to put his fingers inside of you.

ever the gentleman, nanami looks up at you from behind his lopsided goggles one more time to check for any signs of hesitation, and when he still doesn't find any, he slowly dips two thick fingers between your folds, caressing your slick flesh.

you release a small sigh at the touch, your eyelids fluttering as a wave of pleasure washes over you. he's careful and gentle with his ministrations; since he obviously isn't familiar with what you like.

but you can tell he's the type to be a quick learner.

it isn't long before nanami has you squirming and whining on his lap, the two fingers he eased inside of your dripping entrance scissoring and exploring your sloppy hole, spreading you open bit by bit.

"mmm, you like that, pretty girl?" satoru asks raspily from behind you, lazily palming his clothed erection again as he observes your reactions to his colleague's touch. "is he making you feel good?"

"y-yeahhh." is all you can get out in your daze, your back arching forwards in an unconscious action when nanami's thumb finds your swollen clit, lightly pressing the rough pad of it down on the puffy bud.

satoru leans back in so his chin is almost resting on nanami's shoulder, his warm, laboured breaths caressing the lobe of the other man's ear. "her favourite thing is when you rub lil' circles on her clit." he whispers, voice low and teasing.

against his will, a shiver ripples down nanami's spine in response to satoru's words, and he finds himself following them like they were a command, his thumb sloppily circling your pretty clit and emitting a soft gasp from your parted lips.

"c-close, kento." you mutter breathlessly, your hips beginning to grind down onto his fingers in search of more friction. satoru is quick to assist, abandoning palming himself and wrapping his an arm around your waist to help you bounce on the other man's digits more smoothly.

"thank you, thank you!" you cry out to your boyfriend, turning your head to meet his lips in an uncoordinated, messy kiss inches from nanami's face. the blonde man finds his fingers unconsciously speeding up as he observes the interaction, fucking you on them hard and fast.

within moments, you're coming undone.

a soundless cry falls from your lips as your body falls limp between the two men, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nanami's fingers in search of something to milk.

"god. she looks even more beautiful when she cums... i-i need to feel her. can i feel her, satoru?" comes nanami's broken voice from somewhere nearby, your blissed out state making your vision swim and your hearing fuzzy.

"woow. called me by my first name and everything!" that's satoru, obviously. he sounds overwhelmingly smug. "if i knew my girlfriend would get you this pussydrunk, i'd have let you have a turn with her ages ago."

their bickering becomes background noise as you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm, but you vaguely register your baggy shirt being removed and your body being repositioned so you're splayed across the couch on your back.

"darling? do you need a moment or can i..." it's nanami's voice again. you manage to blink one eye open to find him hunched over you, burly arms either side of your head and his blonde tresses sticking to his forehead with sweat. casting your vision down, you can see his cock, flushed and angry with precum dripping from the tip once again, hovering just above your entrance.

"please." you mewl, the word slurred from lingering pleasure as you weakly grind your hips up into his erection, causing him to release a groan from deep in his throat.

"go ahead. give my girl what she wants," satoru grunts from somewhere behind nanami, the slick sounds filling the air indicating that he's finally released his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and started jerking himself off. "and you better give it to her good."

"i will," nanami mutters as he slowly but surely, pushes his monster of a cock past that first tight ring of muscle that is your entrance. "f-fuck— i will."

"i think that's the — ah — first time i've ever head you curse, nanamin." the white-haired man remarks playfully, his hips bucking up into his closed fist as he watches his colleague prepare to fuck his girlfriend. damn, this is even hotter than he expected.

"don't get used to it." he grunts in response, his arms visibly shaking above you as he tries to hold himself back from just slamming all the way into you. but no, he's still a gentleman; even now. he'll start slowly, atleast.

it takes a few long moments for nanami to push all of his ridiculously thick inches into you, and when he finally bottoms out, his heavy balls flush against your ass, both of you moan. he's stretching you out so good, just as much (if not more so) than satoru does.

the blonde man, to his credit, does manage to give you a while to adjust to the new intrusion filling you up, but it isn't long before he snaps, the animalistic side of him coming out as he begins rutting his hips into you like it's his last day on earth.

"a-ah! fuck, kento!" you cry breathlessly, your legs quickly locking around his waist for some type of support as he continues to use you like his own person cocksleeve, the couch rocking back and forth with the suddenly ruthless movements.

"uh huhh," satoru croons as he works his own cock faster, his blindfold discarded somewhere nearby so he can get the clearest view of nanami pounding his girlfriend into the couch. "use her to get rid of all that pesky stress."

"sorry, sweetheart — shit, sorry," nanami pants above you, his body seemingly having a mind of its own as he continues to drive his cock in and out of you, barely giving you a moment to breathe in between the rough thrusts. "can't stop."

you'd tell him it was okay, that it feels good, but right now you can't form a single coherent thought. you're completely and utterly cockdrunk, and there isn't even a doubt about it.

"hey — mmm — she really likes it when you play with her tits while you're fuckin' her." satoru adds helpfully, causing nanami to growl out something akin to thanks in response.

suddenly, a large hand is palming one of your bouncing breasts, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh and making you clench tightly around the cock inside of you.

nanami curses yet again under his breath, his eyes visibly rolling back in his head behind the fogged up lenses of his goggles. "so tight, darling. practically squeezing around me like a v-vice."

at his words, a broken moan gets ripped from your throat, your ankles digging into the muscles of his lower back in an attempt to pull him in even deeper. all you seem to be able to say is "more, more, more."

"that— ngh, that means she's close," satoru gasps out, his cock twitching beneath his fist as he continues to jerk himself off like there's no tomorrow. "rub... rub her clit like y'did earlier again."

instantly complying to the other man's command, two of nanami's thick fingers find your puffy little bud again, rubbing uncoordinated circles as he continues to pound into you like an animal in heat. jesus, he can't even remember what he was stressed about anymore.

"o-oh, shit!" you almost scream, the stimulation on your sensitive bud and the repeated slams of nanami's pudgy cockhead against your g spot driving you half-insane with pleasure. you can feel an all-too-familiar coil start to spool in the depths of your stomach, threatening to unravel at any given moment.

"yeah, that's it, baby," satoru praises breathlessly, his own orgasm approaching as he continues grinding into his fist like a desperate virgin. "cum all over nanamin's cock for me."

the dual sensations of your boyfriend's words and the thrusting of nanami's sinful hips has you spiralling uncontrollably over the edge, your second high of the night somehow even more intense than the first. you barely even have time to register the liquid just spraying from your cunt and soaking nanami's heavy balls where they're slapping against your ass with a lewd thwack! each time.

"god, so perfect, can't last—" nanami rambles in a very pussydrunk manner, his movements suddenly growing considerably more uncoordinated and sloppy as he struggles to find the strength to hold himself up. "gojo, where can i...?"

"not inside," satoru responds firmly, his voice the most coherent it's been since he started jerking himself off. it's clear there's no room for argument on this one. "that's for me only."

nodding shakily, nanami manages to pull his throbbing cock out just in a nick of time, rope after rope of his goopy cum splattering across the supple skin of your stomach, the stream going on for so long it seems like it'll never stop.

somewhere behind the blonde man, a low, raspy groan is the tell-tale sign that satoru has just finished too, probably coating his own hand with his sticky release.

it's silent for a few blissful moments, all three of you just basking in the afterglow of your respective orgasms. but of course, satoru gojo is a man who can never stay quite for long, so he says—

"hey, maybe we should do a threesome next time."

"next time?" nanami chokes out weakly, barely managing to lift his head up to glance over at this colleague with two raised eyebrows.

"yeah, next time," satoru shrugs nonchalantly, as if the proposal was nothing short of normal. "i know i said i'd only let you do this once, but... sharing is caring, right?"

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

4K notes · View notes

cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 months ago

Text

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

4K notes · View notes

adimilkys · 2 months ago

Text

“Your ex has never made you what?”

Sylus x reader 18+ MDNI

cw : smut, f!reader, overstimulation, p in v, stomach bulge, oral (f receiving), no protection (wrap it before you tap it), petnames, biting and probably more

synopsis : after telling Sylus you "aren't able to orgasm" because you never did with your exes, he proves you very wrong

author's note : wrote this after work, idk how because I'm literally dying so there may be a lot of mistakes lol also english isn't my native so if you find and spelling mistakes whoops

You've been dating Sylus for over a month now, it's been an... interesting ride for sure. You're over the kissing stage and teasing, but you've never talked with him about sex- well until tonight.

"If you're not comfortable we don't have to, kitten" he whispered in your ear, you were both laying in his bed, you on top of him as he scratched your head.

"It's not that I'm not comfortable... it's just embarassing, Sy" You buried your face in his chest, he raised his eyebrow at your statement. "What's embarassing?"

At his question you buried your face deeper in his chest, knowing that you have to tell him either way. "I... just can't..." you mumbled

"You can't what, kitten? Come on, tell me."

"I-I can't orgasm..." he was quiet for a few seconds, before letting out a laugh. You raised yourself up from his chest, a pout on your face. "I'm serious, Sy!"

"And why do you think you can't orgasm?" He asked, gripping your waist. "W-Well everytime I got intimate, I was just never able to come-"

"And you think that's your fault?" He raised his eyebrow, looking into your eyes, making you look away with flushed cheeks. "Well yeah, I mean it's always me who can't cum" he grabbed your chin, making you look at him again.

"Sweetie, it's those pathetic men that couldn't make you cum" He started kissing your face, making you even more flustered "But-"

"Do you want me to prove it to you I can make you come minimum 5 times right now?" You stared at him with wide eyes, Sylus wasn't the one to break his promises, but you decided to play along.

"Hmph... All talk no action-" And with that, he slammed his lips on yours, capturing them in a messy kiss. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for access to your mouth. When you smirked, not opening your lips he bit it, making you gasp as he forced his tongue inside, immediately wrapping your tongues together.

You let out a moan, his hand sliding under your (his) shirt, squeezing your breasts. As you pulled your head away to breath, his lips continued assaulting now your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping on it- leaving many marks.

His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your tits "So fucking pretty" he whispered before latching onto one of your nipples. "S-Shit... Sylus-" you buried your hands in his hair, slightly pulling at it making him groan.

After being satisfied with the amount of marks he left on your breasts, he kissed down your stomach, lower and lower until he reached your shorts. "Tell me, kitten. Has someone ever eaten you out?" He raised his head up, staring at your face while you shook your head.

"Tsk... you've been messing around with immature boys, not real men sweetie" he said before sliding down your shorts right with your panties. "Such a pretty pussy, s'wet, all mine" with that he immediately dived in, groaning at the taste of your juice.

You moaned out his name loudly, one of your hands leaving his hair and now gripping onto the sheets. Your legs tied around his head. He sucked onto your clit, his tongue doing wonders. His hand moving to grab your thigh, squeezing it (probably leaving marks as well)

"Feels- so good!" You whined, throwing your head back as one of his fingers entered you, his fingers were so much bigger compared to yours (Which they also couldn't make you cum)

He followed that up with his second finger, stretching you out. Your moans were getting louder and your walls clenched around him. "Sylus! I- Ah!" you cried out before arching your back, letting out a silent scream as you came on his fingers and mouth, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars.

All your release ran down his throat, licking his lips before getting up from between your thighs. You were trying to catch your breath, your chest moving up and down.

"What did I tell you, sweetie?" he leaned down to your ear, nipping at it, "Four more to go" you shivered at his words, his hands grabbing your legs and raising them until your knees were touching your chest.

"Now relax f'me..." he grabbed his member, positioning it at your entrance, you didn't even realize he had taken his clothes off and oh

he was huge, thick too. Your eyes widened at his size, which he of course noticed, letting out a chuckle. "Worried I won't fit?" before you could even say anything, he pushed the tip in, knocking your breath out of your lungs.

Your nails digging into his back, he groaned at how tight you are "Sy..." You whined at the stretch, suddenly his fingers pinched your clit, the pain of the stretch and pleasure of his fingers made you scream, once again- making you climax.

As you were panting he continued his torture on your clit, pushing himself in even deeper, not even halfway in but making you feel like he's in your lungs.

"Fuck... Three more, kitten." after a bit more pushing, he finally bottomed out, you were already so cockdrunk, feeling all of him, every twitch and vein. He waited a bit, making sure you adjust before moving.

Starting off slow, making sure you feel comfortable, he looked at your face, sweat rolling down your forehead, hair stuck to your face, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes closed shut and mouth hanging open as you moaned.

You looked so fucking beautiful, he lowered his head, hand grabbing your chin as he slammed his lips on yours, not wasting any time as his tongue entered and explored your mouth. His thrusts speeding up, your moans getting louder.

Suddenly, his cock hit your sweet spot, making you gasp. He smirked at your reaction, angling toward it, making sure to hit it again, again and again. You sobbed, biting your lip as you felt another ogarsm coming, clenching around his member.

"shit shit shit- Sy-Sylus!" you screamed as you came for the third time, already feeling so overstimulated. "N-No more- I can't-" You begged, whining.

"Shhh... two more sweetie" He wiped your tears away, leaving kisses all over your face. He suddenly pulled out, making you gasp as he flipped you onto your stomach, not wasting any second- slamming right back inside you.

"FUCK-" You gripped the pillow, burying your face in it, muffling your moans. His brows furrowed, groaning as he gripped your hips, pounding into you.

"W-Well, none of that sweetie, I want to hear you-" He chuckled, pulling you up so you were on his lap, his chest pressed against your back as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

Your head was hanging low, that's when you saw the huge bulge in your lower stomach disappearing and reappearing over and over. You were barely holding up with his pace.

His mouth once again started attacking your mouth, hiding his own sounds as he was getting closer himself, the way your pussy was clenching around him felt godly. The way your tits bounced, the way drool was dripping from the corner of your lips.

"C'mon... two more..." it was insane how many times he was able to make you cum. With his fingers back on your clit, you threw your head on his shoulder and with a cry you came once again, the only reason you haven't fallen forward being that Sylus is holding your waist.

Within a few thrusts, he came too with a choked moan- filling you up with his warm cum.

After catching his breath, he pulled out, flipping you on your back once again, you barely lifted your head, looking at him with confusion written on your face.

"One more... or maybe two more?" He smirked, going back to your cunt with his mouth.

requests are open, feel free to send your prompts

#adimilkys writes #sylus x you #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus smut #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #lads sylus #love and deepspace #lnds smut #lnds #l&ds #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader

4K notes · View notes

lyrefromthesea · 5 months ago

Note

Please can I request pre-relationship hashira x hashira!reader, where they are sparing together and it becomes a bit suggestive 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - Sparing with benefits

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu , reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: suggestiveness

Tengen:

"you could just give up, there's no chance you could win against my flamboyant self!" he taunted, running around the courtyard with you.

you had been fighting for ten minutes and there was still no end in sight. you weren't a bad fighter, you've been promoted as a hashira some time ago, but Tengen was at advantage right now.

he was faster than you. he had been saving himself from your attacks by avoiding them every time. the smirk on his face only spurred you on more, wanting to win this fight and show him that you were a good fighter.

however, when you raised your bamboo sword for an attack and he turned around to dodge it, you felt yourself trip on a root. it had been sticking out of the ground, making you fall over.

surprised by what has happened, Tengen lost his own halt and fell backwards, landing in a sitting position. you felt yourself fall onto him, at least partly.

when you checked your surroundings, you found your head on his lap. your cheek pressed against his groin. meeting his gaze, you could see his cocky smirk.

"it was an accident! i didn't mean to.." you said, wanting to stand up instantly. this would definitely look wrong from an outsider's perspective.

when you tried to stand up, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pressing your cheek a bit more against his groin, only satisfied when you felt the bulge against your skin.

"just so you know, my wives had always found you cute enough for this.." he teased, his eyes staying on your widened eyes.

you pushed away, running away from his grip and off the training field.

Obanai:

he was proud of you for becoming a hashira. when he took you in as his tsuguko, he wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he was sure now.

you were able to follow his movements, dodge his attacks and even make some of your own. your elegance captivated him and he found himself admiring your fighting style.

perhaps he had been diving in his thoughts too much, because when his attention was finally back on you, he was already on the ground.

your legs were on either side of him, straddling his body. heterochromic eyes were staring deeply into yours, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

"i win, Obanai." you said, looking down at the man. your hands were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly.

his heartbeat was increasing under your hands, cheeks flushing. it wasn't the first time he noticed how beautiful you were, but your allure only increased like this.

"you.. you do.." he muttered, not being able to turn his eyes away from you. yet again, neither were you. you leaned down further, remaining with your faces only a few inches apart.

it would've been so easy to kiss him right now. however, feeling your hips rub against his groin, he couldn't stop his body from reacting, his hands gripping your waist.

"[name], g- get down.."

Rengoku:

"flame breathing. third form: blazing universe!" he called out, his bamboo sword coming at you with immense speed. you barely managed to block his attack - meaning you didn't do it.

your body flew a few feet away, landing on the ground. with a quiet grunt, you turned onto your back. "i give up.." you sighed.

however, there was no audible reaction from Rengoku. turning your head towards him, you wanted to know what's wrong, only to see his wide eyes staring.

he shook his head, running towards you and kneeling down. "are.. are you okay?" he asked, seeing you nod. he didn't respond, as if he knew something you didn't.

"just tell me, Rengoku!" you pleaded, feeling yourself enter a state of panic. did you lose a leg? it wasn't like him to behave this way.

he moved his hand closer, placing his hand against the side of your stomach. your eyes widened, looking down at yourself, staring at your torn uniform.

not only the right side of your shirt, but also the entirety of your right pant leg was missing. you instantly sat up, trying to cover up.

"i didn't know, i will-" you tried excusing yourself, but fell silent when he squeezed your waist slightly, attention moving back to him.

"i'll bring you back." he answered, taking off his haori and pulling it over your form. it didn't help covering your leg, but at least your upper body looked a bit more presentable.

he scooped you into his arms, both your legs around his waist. you rested your chin on his shoulder, wishing to disappear. the whole situation was embarrassing, and even worse, you had felt warm when he touched your skin unhindered.

his hand held you up by your thighs, his grip on your right thigh a bit stronger. you could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your leg, glancing up at him.

"you.. you're really soft." he quietly said, not able to hide his red face from you.

perhaps the whole situations had it's advantages.

Sanemi:

"stop running! just admit defeat!" he shouted after you, determined to get this fight over with. the only problem: you were extremely fast. you managed to dodge his attacks every time.

"never!" you answered, seeing him try to attack again. you were ready to dodge his bamboo sword, but were shocked to see him drop it mid-attack.

his hand shot towards you instead, quite literally knocking you down with his harsh hit. your back made contact with the ground, Sanemi tackling you down immediately.

"i win." he said, smirking at your defeated form. you tried freeing yourself, not able to push up with his hand on your neck.

"i didn't give up yet." you huffed out, feeling him squeezing your throat lightly - he was warning you. only that his warning didn't work as intended.

a quiet whimper escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. he had heard the sound, you knew it.

"oh? didn't know you were into the rough treatment." he smirked - teased. your reaction was immediate, pressing your knee up and right against his crotch.

he groaned, letting go of you. he clearly hadn't expected you to do that, especially not after you pushed him away and freed yourself.

"didn't know you were into that, Shinazugawa."

"you-"

naturally, another fight started right after.

Giyuu:

how did this happen? thirty minutes of fighting just for your bamboo sword to be kicked to the side by him. he had been too fast for you, leaving you unable to react.

your back was pressed against the wall, wide eyes staring into his. he had caged you between the wall and his body, his form towering over you.

ocean eyes were deeply staring into yours, his hand pressing against the wall behind you. he couldn't tear his gaze away from your body, not when you were presented right in front of him.

"you lost." he stated, as if it wasn't obvious to the both of you. his eyes narrowed, his other hand moving towards you.

"if this had been a fight with a demon, you would've died." he said, making you feel like prey under his eyes. he placed his hand on your chin, thumb nearly grazing your lips.

"don't lose focus." he uttered, but his eyes had long broken their contact with yours. he was watching your lips instead, as if he was debating on a kiss.

"i wont." you answered breathlessly, getting his attention back on you. he let go of your chin, stepping away and picking up your sword.

"let's try it out." he taunted, neither of you really focusing on winning or losing now.

Gyomei:

this fight was unfair to begin with. without a doubt, you were one of the strongest swordsman in the corps. you've served as a hashira for three years now, but no one could win against Gyomei.

naturally, you admitted defeat when he threw you over half the lake, immediately asking whether you're fine or not.

your head broke through the water, gasping for air. the water was freezing cold, but you told him you're fine.

he still made the effort to help you out of the water, drenching his own clothes in the freezing liquid.

"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, big tears already rolling down his face again. you avoided your eyes from his form, not trying to appear inappropriate.

"i'm fine." you answered, looking at your own body. both of your clothes were quite see-through, giving you a greedy sight of his muscles and abs.

looking down at yourself, your clothes weren't any better. you thought of yourself as lucky, not wanting to live with the shame of letting him see so much of your body.

"come, it's freezing in here." he told you, pulling you into his arms and out of the water as he made his way out of it.

what you didn't know, was how his fingers could feel everything that you were seeing. your clothes stuck to your skin, not leaving much room for imagination.

he stepped out of the water, but instead of letting you down, his head tilted towards yours, foreheads nearly touching.

his hands squeezed your body, millions of thoughts running through his head. "you're.." he said, but he stopped, not wanting to do something he might regret later.

"you're still wet, we should get some dry clothes.." he told you instead, putting you down again, his hand sliding against your curves for a moment.

you watched him walk forward, your lips parted. was it wrong that you had hoped for him to continue?

7K notes · View notes

classyrbf · 2 months ago

Text

THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE WOODS! — GETO SUGURU

KINKTOBER WEEK ONE

SYNOPSIS...walking home from a halloween party, you decided to take a shortcut, but an eerie feelings creeps up your spine and it feels like eyes are watching your every move

INFO...stalker!geto x fem!reader, for the sake of the story everything is consensual, a fantasy between geto and reader, stalking, groping, fingering, ripping clothes, sex in the woods, choking, hair pulling, oral (m!receiving), deep throating, rough, name calling, degradation, slapping, spanking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

kinktober 2024 masterlist

The wind howled in your ears and the moon was illuminating your every step home. You were cold, the costume that you had on was no help, shivering as you hugged yourself tightly. It was a stupid idea to go to a Halloween party without thinking of how you were going to get back home. Everyone was either drunk driving, or their cars were already filled with other passengers, and to put the cherry on top…your phone had died so you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up. You mentally cursed at yourself for staying so late in the first place, it had to be at least three in the morning. Everyone else was asleep and done with their trick or treating activities, lights off at every house in your sight.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, stopping when you came to a fork in the road. You took the left path knowing that it was a shortcut to your house and you didn’t plan on walking any longer than you needed to in these godforsaken heels. The wind brushed against your exposed skin, goosebumps climbing their way up your body. The further you stepped into the forest, darkness began to surround you. The large, twisted branches allowing very few rays of moonlight to shine through. Tall trees hovered over you, casting shadows. You’d be lying if you said this shortcut wasn’t one hundred times creepier at night compared to day.

Leaves rustled in the wind, branched snapped under your feet and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one was following you. It felt like eyes were watching your every movement, dark figures in the tree line stalking you like prey, waiting to pounce. “It’s all in your head,” you mumbled to yourself, walking faster. Though, your words were no help. Your eyes darted in every direction, barely paying attention to what was in front of you causing you to trip over a tree root sticking out. You fell to your knees, wincing in pain when you saw little blood droplet stain your stockings. “You gotta be kidding me,” you whined.

As you sat there on the floor trying to regain yourself, you heard a twig snap in the distance. With wide eyes, you got up as quickly as you could and looked around. “Hello?” You called out, your voice echoing through the forest. And just like that, you heard it again. Your feet moved before you could even think and you began to run as fast as you could in the shoes you were wearing. It would be better to take them off but you couldn’t stop now.

Your breathing quickened with each passing second and just a few feet behind you, you could hear footsteps. Fear struck your heart and you could only focus on the clearing up ahead. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if it was some animal, but you weren’t going to stop and check. Something didn’t feel right and that’s all you needed to know to get your ass out of here. The clearing was only so close now and your chest burned from the cold air that filled your lungs. Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears and the pain from your busted knee dissipated from the adrenaline rushing through you.

The streetlights came into view and just before you could make it, you felt a hard tug on your dress, a rough hand pulling you back into the darkness and covering your mouth as you screamed into it, squirming around in his tight grip. Each kick and punch to his body didn’t do a thing and the clearing soon began to grow smaller. “Shh, shh, shh.” His breath tickled your ear. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. He pushed you up against a tree, slowly appearing in your view. You couldn’t quite make out his face, but his tall silhouette, muscular frame, and long dark hair was quite obvious. “Promise me you won’t scream? If you do, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Your entire body was shaking, weak. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn’t know if he had a weapon, but you didn’t want to find out the hard way. He slowly removed his from your mouth, and let out a chuckle with how hard you were breathing. “Please don’t hurt me,” you sniffled, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt your body was glued to the tree, any sudden movement would make you drop. “What do you want? I don’t have any money…here,” you handed him your phone, “take it, it’s all I have.” More tears streamed down your face.

He looked at your phone with disinterest before looking back up at you. “Don’t you recognize me?” He questioned. You meekly shook your head no. “I guess I did a good job then,” he laughed. “I thought you noticed me but I guess not.” He brushed his hand against your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I was watching you the whole night. Watching you get drunk, dance with your friends, kiss random strangers, and I kept thinking how pretty you were. Ever since you walked in that door.” He gripped your chin tightly, leaning in closely in the crook of your neck.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he smelled you. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything.” You weren’t sure if negotiating with him was going to work, but you were willing to do anything in order to just go home. But, he completely ignored you and continued rubbing up on you. His hands roamed freely, down your stomach and back, up to your tits where he gave them a squeeze. It wasn’t until he moved away from you that you saw some of his features. His chiseled face, and dark, narrow eyes, his slightly tan skin, and plump lips. His hair flowed with the wind, the leaves falling from above.

Within a split second, he pushed his lips onto yours, roughly kissing you, his tongue forcefully pushing inside your mouth. His hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the tree while his other hand reached under your dress to rub your cunt through your stocking and panties. You whimpered into the kiss, pulling away to catch your breath. “These are in the fucking way,” he grunted, ripping your tights with one hand. He pushed your panties to the side, smirking as he ran his finger up and down your slit. A small gasp left his lips when he could feel your juices coat his finger. “You’re wet. This turn you on? Being chased and caught in the woods so some stalker could fuck you?” His slipped his finger inside, watching the way your jaw fell open.

“You’re just as sick as I imagined,” he let out a deep chuckle, curling his finger inside of you before adding another. He still had you pinned against the tree with your legs spread, your dress bunched up at your waist while he thrusted his long, thick fingers inside of you. “You’re sucking my fingers right in.” A smirk formed at the corner of his lips, your pussy squelching the faster he went, your juices dripping down his fingers.

A small whine escaped your throat looking at the man in front of you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared or turned on. Maybe you were both. Was it wise to entertain this? That question ran through your head over and over. He leaned back towards your lips, hungry for another kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Without thinking, your arms wrapped around him as your legs grew weak, nearly falling from how good his fingers felt inside of you.

His dick strains against his slacks, damn near painful from how hard he was. “Get on the fucking floor.” He slips his fingers out from inside you, pushing you down to your knees and against the tree. You look up at him confused before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on your fingers. He’s quick to undo his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widen as his dick springs out, swollen red tip, and pulsating veins on either side of his shaft. Precum drips from the tip and he smears it over his cock, slowly jerking himself off to the sight of you sucking his fingers.

“Stick out that tongue for me, baby. Open up.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair before he slaps his heavy dick on your tongue. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs. He rubs his dick all over your face, slapping you with in, pushing it between your lips. He grips your hair tighter, pushing your head down onto his cock. “Fuckkkk,” he moans as feels your warm tongue rub along his shaft and your throat squeeze around him. You immediately gag as he goes further, eyes watering before you gag again, your nose touching his pelvis. “Stay just like that, don’t you fucking move.” He holds your head down for a few seconds before he lets go, allowing you to breathe.

You gasp for air, letting out dry coughs as he laughs at you. Strings of spit connect from your mouth to his dick, dripping down to his balls. His hand grips your hair again and you let out a pained whimper. “First time taking dick down your throat, huh?” He mocks you, stilling laughing in your face. You stare up at him with tearful eyes, wiping your mouth of all the spit. But before you could blink, a sharp pain spreads across your cheek, your head jolting to the other side. Did he just slap you? “Did I say you could wipe your mouth? No, no I don’t think I did. I like it messy, so get used it.” With force, he shoves his dick back in your throat.

You throat closes in around him again, gagging. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your mouth. Glug glug glug glug. You place your hands on his thighs in attempt to get him to slow down but he just goes harder, the back of head pushed against the tree and trapped between his thighs. He pushes your nose against his pelvis once more, spit dripping down your chin and from his balls. “Ugh, fuck! This throat feels so good!” His abs tense up and your eyes roll into the back of your head before he removes himself from your throat.

You’re coughing again, chest heaving up and down while you sit there on your knees trying to catch your breath. “Please, I can’t, my throat hurts.” Your brows furrow.

He grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s gotta teach you how to suck dick properly, baby. I don’t give a fuck if your throat hurts,” he harshly says. He slaps his dick against your face, smearing your spit all over. “Come on, impress me.” He stares down at you with those dark eyes. You’re quick to understand that he wants you to suck his dick yourself. “Remember, I like it messy.”

Both hands wrap around his cock, jerking him off as you move your wrist in a circular motion, taking the rest of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around his head, gathering as much spit as you could. You look up at him, taking him slightly further down your throat before coming back up. “That’s it, keep those eyes on me. Don’t you dare fucking look away.” He grits his teeth, eyes rolling back when you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your jaw grows tired, pulling away to give yourself a break, your hands still gripping his length.

Streaks of mascara stain your cheeks, your lip stick smeared across your lips. He reaches down to pet your face, admiring the view. He can see that your scared, but he can also tell that you’re enjoying this. It only makes him want to get your blood pumping more. “Make me fucking cum. Put it back in your mouth.” He places his hand on the back of your head, pushing it down, your throat accommodating to his size. “You’re such a quick learner. Taking it like a fucking whore.” He bites down on his bottom lip, thrusting his hips at a sharp pace. “Open up that throat. Come on,” he growls.

You body jolts forward as you gag, your nails digging into his thighs as he pushes your nose against his pelvis. You can feel him twitch and pulsate in your throat and before you know it hot spurts of cum coat your throat. “Uh huh, fuck, fuck. Take it, baby. Mmmph!” His jaw goes slack, holding your head down until your slapping his thighs to breathe. Luckily, he lets you pull away after he drains all of his cum. You barely have time to recover before he’s snatching you back to your feet, spinning you around and pushing you against the tree. “Did such a good job sucking my dick. I wanna know if this pussy can do the same.” A swift slap to your ass makes you whimper, holding onto the tree for support while it scratches at your skin.

“Go slow, please,” you beg. You wish you would’ve never said anything because your words only added fuel to the fire. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone and slipping him that piece of information made him do the opposite of what you asked for.

“Go slow? Huh? No, no.” His hand snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he whispered in your ear. “I’ll do what I want with you.” He smacked your ass again, tearing off your panties and tossing them somewhere into the woods. “Say you want me to fuck you,” he ordered. You silently stood there in his arms, biting down on your bottom lip as you braced for whatever he was going to give you. “Say it!” He huskily whispered, rubbing his shaft up and down your sopping slit.

“Fuck me,” you meekly spoke.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He kissed your jaw so softly, his other hand reaching down to toy with your puffy clit. He let out a blissful sigh as your moans, continuing to rub it in circles in such a teasing manner. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, please,” you said a little louder this time. “Ah!” A yelp left your lips when he slipped inside, pushing his entire length in, the burning stretch making you wince. “Oh fuck!” You whined. His thrusts were brutal, his cock reaching your deepest points. His arm wrapped your torso, holding you up while simultaneously pulling you back on his cock. The sudden sensation of him inside you became so overwhelming, you couldn’t help but squirm in his grip.

The sound of skin to skin echoed through the woods and your lewd moans along with it. Ripples of pleasure shot through every part of your body. Your hands reached out for the tree, finding stability to hold yourself up. His breath shuddered against your neck, desperate moans and grunts filling your ears. “You’re so fucking wet—nnngh fuck!” He growled. His fat tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, tears pricking your eyes before spilling over. Suddenly, he slowed down his thrusts, going harder and slower, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch.

“Ah!” You squealed when he slammed his hips against yours, only to slowly pull back out again. Each hard jolt of his hips sent your body forward, your knees already ready to give out. “Ah!” You screamed in pleasure, reaching down to grip onto his forearm.

His hand shot over your mouth, muffling your cries and moans. “Go ahead and scream, baby. You think someone is gonna hear you? It’s just me…and…you.” Each of his words were punctuated with hard thrusts. You moaned into his hand, your eyes screwed shut. He could feel you clench around him, letting out a blissful sigh. He pressed against you, going as deep as he could and stayed there. A sharp gasp escaped your throat, eyes widening as you tried to move your hips. “You’re mine now,” he breathily whispered.

“Mmph! Mmmph!” As he began pounding into you again your eyes rolled back, feeling him in the deepest parts of you. “Please, please, please,” you cried, voice breaking through your tears. Your mind grew hazy, too clouded to even think clearly. His thrusts were so sharp, so animalistic. He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing it in his direction before planting a hungry, sloppy kiss on your lips. Both of swallowed each others lewd moans, gasping for air between wet kisses.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He rasped, staring into your eyes. All you could force was a nod. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over your stalkers dick, baby? Do it. Give it to me. Show me how dirty you are.” He pressed deeper, your entire body trembling. The feeling your pussy pulsating around him only fueled him to go faster, his grip on your entire body tightening while you came. “That it’s—f-fuck!” His voice trembled.

Your entire body quivered with pleasure, high pitched whines spilling from your lips, barely able to form proper words. His brutal pace sent your mind into a spiral. Each greedy stroke sent him closer to the edge, his thrust growing sloppier and his thoughts growing dirtier, thinking of filling you up with his cum and watching it leak out of you. “Oh my god! S-slow down! Gonna cu—nnngh!” Before you could even say it, you were already cumming a second time, your orgasm ripping through your entire body and sucking the air of your lungs.

“Yes, yes! Cum on my dick. You’re gonna make me cum, baby. Fuck your self on my dick. Work for it.” He pushed your weak body against the tree, his chest rising and falling as you so desperately fucked him, throwing your ass back. He looked down, watching the way he disappeared inside your messy cunt, creaming around him and sucking him in. You circled your hips, moving back and forth, feeling your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Fucking work for it.” His hand swatted your ass several times, the stinging sensation that lingered on your skin making you whimper. “Atta girl. Right fucking there…shit, baby. Just like that, just like that,” he whined, reaching down to squeeze the plump flesh.

Low guttural groans collided with your moans, echoing through the lonely forest. He was so close to cumming, you could tell. His big strong hands took ahold of your hips as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. “Ah…oh fuck…mmph—s-shit!” He shuddered, hot spurts of cum painting your walls. You pushed back into him, biting down on your bottom lip, not wanting one last drop to go to waste. After several seconds, he slowly pulled out, trying to catch his breath. He forcefully grabbed you, standing you upright even though your entire body was shaking.

After coming down from your high, you realized you just fucked your stalker and let him cum inside you. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. Both of you stared at each other, eyes searching deep within. You were left confused, speechless. You flinched when he brought his hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. His eyes flickered down to your lips, placing the most gentle kiss on them—the most gentle one since you’ve met him. Yet, you found yourself kissing him back. “Who are you?” Your voice broke the silence, nervously scanning his features.

His lips quirked up into the slightest smirk. “Just the boy who saw you at the Halloween party.” From the very beginning he was never going to give you his name. “Your stalker.” He seemed to take pride in his words, now smiling at you.

You gulped, blinking up at him. “My stalker.”

taglist (closed):

@roronoaslover @skychapt-blog @prettylil-teine @freakadelick @adamaisfav @tadabzzzbee @ourfinalisation @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @heliumshorns @ninani-nanina @blankwashed @sadkaomoji @tojis-ball-sack @blkpotionss @sunjayist @cryptxdslxt @aweebthatsjustthere @angelrulez21-blog @lemonintrovert21 @vertigoandvirtues @cloudxluv @kkataleena @eclipsi-shadow @sugusmonkeyy @greatwizardangel @cybersomn1a @screamlast9 @purpleheart835 @ramiiroll @purp1eha1o @veraiku @yu22tas @wrldtups @4evrglow @sugarsticksss @fos-tis-zois @lisvanrouge @asiancupid @bluejayreadsanddreams @sincerelyaixii @digitaltrippers @chuuminn @lolimmafuckings1mp @jellyfishlord @therealest06 @terminosdevozsauve @keanureevessmile @nekoxvi @starlightglimmersworld @m0nsterzl0ve

#—☆classyrbf #kinktober #jjk kinktober #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto smut oneshot #geto suguru smut oneshot #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut oneshot

4K notes · View notes