admirxation - Tumblr blog

admirxation · 7 hours

Text

I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #jjk imagines #admirxation fic recs

7K notes · View notes

admirxation · 7 hours

Text

Ajfkfodowfjdosowknhiwjsjs

Ever since i got introduced to him i’ve been obsessed, nexy out here cooking with the amazing writing

little side note: when the reader said “nuh uh” i couldn’t help but say it like that meme. if u don’t know the meme its a vid with like eve telling the serpent she can’t eat the apple cuz god and the serpent says NUH UH im the most exaggerated way lmao i literally imagined going NUH UHHHH at him I- 😭😭😭

summary: Brat tamed by your step dad. pairing: Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader tags: NSFW, Smut, Stepcest, Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Pussy Slapping, Spanking, Mean!Toji, Degradation Kink, Unprotected Sex, Manhandling, Dub-con, fem receiving oral, Reader is 18+, MDNI wc: 2.4k

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists a/n: this is my first time writing for JJK and Toji, but god am I down BAD for this man. I wanna practice and write more because....yeah. 😏 Title based on the song. Also special thanks to @kaitkatme for beta-reading this for me.

“Fuck off Megumi, you’re always breathing down my neck!” You yelled, chucking the pillow across the room at your step brother. “Seriously, get out!”

“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to as your big brother!” He yelled back, easily dodging the weaponized cushion. “Dudes like that are only looking for one thing. They’re dangerous.” “Really? You sure? I would say you’d know, but I don’t think you’re getting any either.” You replied, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, give me the phone.” His hand was stuck out expectantly. “No way! I’m an adult, I can go out with whoever I want.”

The two of you tussle back and forth around the room, grappling over the device in your hand. Luckily for you, his back was to your bedroom door, giving you the chance with one good shove to send him staggering backwards into the hallway, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, and you clicked the lock to make sure he couldn’t get back in so easily.

You flopped back down onto the plush bed, intending to return to what you were doing when noise caught your attention. Loud stomping, followed by some muffled arguing – you recognized one of the voices as your step dad, he must’ve been woken up by the argument.

As the voices got closer you could make out the tail end of the conversation. “Why don’t you just buckle up and be a father for once.” “Will you stop naggin’ me, she ain’t even my kid.” “She calls you dad.” “So do you, fuckin’ brat. And you don’t listen to me either.” “You really want her skulking around with one of those mercs? Bet that’ll look real good on you, old man. Your rivals joking about going through rounds with your slutty daughter.”

“Tch, fine. But only because I’m sick of your fuckin’ nagging kid. We both know she isn’t goin’ to listen t’me.” His footsteps were heavy as they closed in on your room. The front door of the house slammed close downstairs, Megumi having retreated. There was a brief silence outside your door as he pondered what to say before his heavy fist landed on the door a few times. “Open up.”

“Don’t think I will.” You added, not feeling like being lectured again, and especially not by the deadbeat who fucks your mom. Or did fuck your mom, no one really knew where mom was these days.

There was a huff of frustration as he banged on the door again. “I ain’t askin’ twice.”

“Then don’t.” You lazily went back to scrolling on your phone.

“You fuckin’ brats are really startin’ to piss me off today.” A loud boom rattled the walls, nearly giving you a heart attack. Your bedroom door had been kicked right off the hinges, the top half of the door tangling by what was left of a single screw, the bottom half launched into the wall across the room.

You’d seen Toji go at it with Megumi before, tossing all sorts of things at him with his absurd inhuman strength, but you’d never been the target of that anger before. Your mouth opened in shock, ready to say something, but words caught in your throat as he marched towards you.

“First I’m woken up because the two of you can’t keep yer traps shut. Then I get an earful about you running off with some merc kid – thought I raised you better than that.” “You didn’t raise me at all!” Toji had been around as long as you could remember, probably the closest thing you’d ever have to a real dad. Except he only really acted like a father when he was trying to get in your moms pants – or when you made cute bait for a potential bounty he was trying to collect on. “Shut it.” He said, towering over you. “Screw you!” You spat indignantly. “I ain’t dealin’ with any more shit today.” It always impressed you how fast he was, for such a large buff guy. Even still, it shocked you how quickly he managed to flip your positions, him sitting on the bed, you bent over his lap. The only noise you could get out was a yelp as his hand collided with your clothed butt cheek, the red hot warmth of pain radiating outwards. “What happened to that filthy mouth?” He asked mockingly, this time tugging your pajama pants down to expose the plush mounds of your ass. “Come on princess, you wanna talk like a big bad adult, then talk.” He brought his hand down again, this one knocking the wind out of you, making your legs kick behind you tangled in your pajama pants – fat hot tears forming in your waterline. “No? Nothing?” He asked again, as he continued his onslaught, large hand imprinting its shape on you. “That’s what I thought. Shoulda knocked some manners into both you brats forever ago.”

He shoved you off of him, making you tumble head first onto the floor. Your face was red with anger, cheeks puffed out, righting yourself just enough to look up at him, still tangled in your own pants. He looked down at you amused, scanning your form. He grabbed your face with his hand, squishing your cheeks together, forcing you into a kissy face. “Now that’sa look.” He mused. “Acting like you’re ready to go run around with boys, but can’t even stop snottin’ and cryin’ like a kid after getting spanked by your Daddy.” You wanted to say something back, insult him, tell him to shut up. But you couldn’t, ass sore, mouth still pushed out between his fingers. Instead, you glared him down as best you could.

“What was your plan anyway? Hope he’d take you somewhere fancy, call you pretty names while he licked that little cunt? Or were you hopin’ he’d be mean, put you in your place.” He chuckled, leaning forward so your faces were close together again. “Maybe Megumi was right – ‘m gonna have to listen to stories from half the guild about my slutty little girl, aren’t I?” “N-no!” You managed to squeak out at the accusation, it fell on deaf ears as he continued rambling his own thoughts. “Only thing I can’t understand is why you’d pick some loser I work with. When ‘m sure there’s plenty of punks crawling around this city, ready to get their dicks wet.” His eyes narrowed, a smug ear to ear grin taking over his features. “Oh, I get it now, you want someone just like your Daddy, don’t you?” Heat pooled between your legs at his words, cheeks on fire with embarrassment more than anger now. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice. He let go of your face finally, red finger marks lingering on your skin. Despite having the chance to speak, you were stunned into silence.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Toji yanked you up by your arm, roughly pulling you into his lap, pressed against his chest with your head over his shoulder. His large, rough fingers trailed down the semi-circle of your ass cheek to dip lower from behind, gently brushing against your slicked folds. “Looks like I’m right on the mark.” “N-nuh uh!” You denied, exasperated.

“Dumb little brat, runnin’ around looking for trouble when all you need is your Daddy, right here at home.” He played with you a little, stuffing his index finger into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing against your clit in even circular motions. You whined, squirming your legs at the sensation, feeling your walls clamp around the digit. What remained of your dignity was fleeting, as you felt his cock press against your leg through his pants. “Looks like she’s been cryin’ for attention – no wonder you’ve been such a bitch lately. Shoulda known it woulda been easier to just fuck the ‘tude out of you.”

He pulled his hand out of you so he could toss you unceremoniously onto the bed, ripping your panties and pajama pants off the rest of the way. By the time he yanked your shirt up, your hands were covering your face in embarrassment. “Nah, none of that shy shit.” He chided, easily gathering both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Look at me, princess.” He used his free hand to force you to meet his gaze again. “You wanted this, remember? So you’re gonna be a good girl and watch while Daddy makes you feel good, understand?” You scrunched up your face in a glare again, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of absolute obedience. The hand holding your face collided with your cheek in a sharp slap, making your tits bounce a little as you jerked with the motion. “You wanna keep that brat shit up and I’ll just fuck you raw instead, how about that?” “W-wait no!” You exclaimed. “S’what I thought.” Your step dad let go of your wrists so he could lift your lower half up, tossing one leg over his shoulder, tongue messily sliding up your slit before lapping at the bead of nerves. Like most things with Toji, he was quick, flicking his tongue side to side before circling it around your clit. His hands dug into your hips with a bruising grip, you looked up catching the top of his head and eyes between your legs. Eyes squeezing shut in short-lived pleasure. “G-guah!” You made a sound, a mix between a moan and a yelp as you felt a lightly stinging slap to your pussy, eyes shooting back open. “What did I say?” “T-to watch.” Another slap against your pussy made you squeal. “Then why were your eyes closed, hmm?” “‘M sorry!” Another one, this time angled just right that you managed to feel it against your clit too. “Wh-why?” “You’re sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You replied. “Good girl.” Praise from him was rare, and while it was dripping with sarcasm, you couldn’t help the way it made your chest flutter. He resumed his meal between your legs, messily slurping you into his mouth. Your body felt like it was burning up, pleasuring pulsing between your legs each time he applied pressure with his wet muscle to your clit.

Your back arched in pleasure, legs kicking at his back as you came, hard. “Oh god.” You whined, not able to keep your eyes open this time as waves of pleasure rolled over you, through your stiffened muscles. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care this time, dropping your lower half down so he could wipe your slick from his chin with the back of his hand.

Your eyes, half lidded, watched as he reached down, pulling himself free of his gray pants. You let out an audible surprised sound as you watched him stroke himself a few times. It was thick from tip to base, uncut with pearly beads of precum that dribbled onto your thigh with each stroke. He ran his thumb over the tip, hissing at the sensation before rubbing it along your bottom lip, letting you taste him. Greedily you sucked the digit into your mouth, grinding your hips up when you tasted the slightly bitter liquid.

“Shit. You’re fuckin’ cute, I’ll give you that.” He said, pulling his hand back to line himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you, grunting as your tight walls clenched around him. “Tight as hell too. Relax.” He groaned, sinking inch by inch into you until the tip of his cock pressed snuggly against your cervix. It was overwhelming how full you felt, like you’d be split in half if he were any bigger.

Not one for patience he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, as he slid out to the tip before slamming back in, watching as you writhed beneath him, gripping the sheets. Your pupils were blown, you could feel his breath against your face again with how close he was in this position. “Look at you givin’ me those lovey dovey eyes. Want a kiss too?” He asked. “Please?” You nodded, letting go of the bedding to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. He obliged the request, pressing his lips to yours – rough and slightly chapped. He gave a few shallow thrusts while tangling your tongues together, pulling away just enough to give him a better angle to fuck into you harder. “S’too much.” You croaked as he set a steady pace, brutally pumping himself inside of you. “S’too much.” You repeated, eyes scrunching shut, overstimulated between the stretch and speed of his movements. “S’okay, you can take it.” He replied, between movements. You clung to him tightly, a fresh set of tears brimming at your eyes, toes curling with pleasure. “‘D-daddy.” You sobbed out, clawing at his back. Each time he sunk back into you, he hit a special spot, one so deep you’d never reach it on your own. It made stars sparkle on the back of your eyelids.

“That’s m’girl, let it all out. Gonna fill this bratty little hole up, make sure she remembers who’s in charge, yeah? Gonna be a good girl from now on?” “Mhmm.” You replied, so close to your second orgasm. “Never be bad…nnng…again….” Your muscles tensed, the pressure exploding again as you cried out, second orgasm exhausting the last of your energy. Your velvety walls clamping down were enough to bring him to completion too, his cock twitching as hot cum spurted out, drooling into your spent hole.

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you barely registered when Toji pulled out, or when he’d laid down next to you tucking you into his side. Your body naturally curled into his warmth, head sinking into the pillow as sleep pulled you under.

It wasn’t until you heard the telltale sounds of arguing again did you even bother to crack one eye open. Megumi stood in the broken doorway, looking like steam was coming out of his ears. “What?” Toji asked lazily. “You didn’t want her goin’ with that guy, now she’s not. Problem solved.” “Problem not solved –” He began, before you chucked a pillow at him again. “Go away, Megumi.” You groaned, burying your face back into your step dad’s chest to resume your nap, too tired to feel any sense of shame or embarrassment in the moment.

#toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #toji fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #admirxation fic recs

466 notes · View notes

admirxation · 7 hours

Text

ugh this man has such a chokehold on me SEND HELP

♡ — SUMMARY: gojo wants to secretly hook up with you although you’re his rival, as well as a teacher and sorcerer from the sister-school in kyoto.

♡ — CONTENT: 18+ only || mdni — smut, outdoor, fingering, stroking, bickering, oral m! receiving, & fluff.

♡ — WC: 2.3K

♡ — A/N: I would let this man rob me btw (:

“If we’re going to fuck, we better do it now.”

“Hush, Satoru! That’s not appropriate.”

“And why not?”

Satoru’s lips were pressed against your ear as he spoke. Those large hands of his — which were previously in his pocket — snaked around your body, and he grabbed your ass with little care regarding who might have seen him.

“I know you want to. Don’t we always fuck before the exchange event? Why so shy this year?”

Slowly, the white-haired man trailed his lips down your neck, leaving soft, gentle kisses.

“Because,” you mumbled. “I think it’s bad luck. My school’s competing against yours. Our students are gonna fight each other, and yet, their teachers have the nerve to fuck in secret? It’s disgraceful.”

A smile spread across Satoru’s gorgeous face, and he simply ignored your words.

After all, you said the same thing every year; you would go on and on about how much trouble you both could get into with the higher-ups for engaging in sexual activities with one another.

You were both honorable teachers, both from different schools — you worked at the sister-school in Kyoto, whereas Satoru worked for the school in Tokyo.

Not only that, but you were both in an unofficial competition with each other. Not only were you both hoping for your students to win each year, but you wanted to outdo each other as well.

Strength meant nothing in the hands of someone irresponsible and lazy — that was your belief, at least.

And Satoru believed that being too responsible and overworked was no way to live.

So, all year long, you’d keep track of how well your students were doing, how many curses you both exercised, and who attended the most meetings — and who showed up on time.

But, eventually, competing against your natural-born rival started to become a bore.

That was when the fucking started.

Whenever the exchange event rolled around annually, you and Satoru would find a secluded place on campus to be together before the event officially started.

You only saw each other once a year, too. No more, no less.

Just one little hookup in a random storage closet — or bathroom, or empty classroom — and never again until next year.

And, like clockwork, pitiful whines and groans would fall from your lips as you’d ramble about how wrong it was, and yet, an hour later, you’d be the one riding his dick and begging for more.

“Hush, and let’s go already. We only get to do this once a year, so quit wasting time,” Satoru pressed a kiss against your jaw. “Are you being so whiny because my students won last year? Is that it? And you think it’s because you let me cum inside of-”

“Satoru!” Your eyes widened a bit as you interrupted his filthy words. “Someone’s gonna hear you, and then we’ll both-”

Suddenly, Satoru covered your mouth with his hand.

“Shut up,” he said playfully.

Once again, Satoru’s lips returned to the sweet skin on your neck, and he started to softly suck, moaning as he did so.

His tongue graced a sensitive spot right below your jaw. When he focused his attention right there, sucking in one spot instead of trailing his mouth up and down the length of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan.

It was muffled thanks to his hand, of course, but even so, feeling your warm breath against his hand made him suck even harder until a hickey formed — one you’d complain about trying to hide later on.

Satoru’s other hand started to play with the button on your pants. He didn’t care if you were both outside, standing underneath a tree, risking your careers and reputations.

First, he played with the top of your underwear, refusing to lower his hand to the spot where you really needed him.

You groaned in frustration.

With a cocky smile, Satoru removed his hand from your mouth and said, “Something wrong?”

“We don’t have time for you to tease me like this. If you’re going to do something, get on with it already.”

“Really? Now you wanna rush me?” He started to dip his fingers into your underwear. “I don’t think a needy brat like you has the right to order me around. I’ll listen to you when your curse kill count is as high as mine. Until then, I’m gonna do whatever I want with you whenever I want to.”

You wanted to snap at him, toss out some sort of witty remark, but as soon as Satoru spoke those aggravating words, his long fingers suddenly — or, rather, finally — made their way to your awaiting clit.

He held your pussy lips open with his fingers, and slowly, he drew circles around your sensitive button.

Moaning softly, you gripped his arm. He couldn’t help but smash his lips against yours. You were just too cute.

He increased the speed at which he rubbed your clit. Your moans grew louder even though they were muffled by Satoru’s tongue swirling around yours.

The white-haired man pulled away with a soft moan falling from between his buttery lips.

“Tell me,” he paused. “Do you think you’ll be exiled from the jujutsu sorcerer society if they catch us?”

“Of course, I will,” you frowned. “And you will too.”

“Probably, but that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Satoru gripped your hair and pressed his lips against your ear. “I can take care of you, sweetheart. I doubt the higher-ups will miss having a weak sorcerer like you around anyway.”

“Go to hell.”

Satoru laughed a bit. He softly licked your ear, and the little noise that erupted from your throat made his heart skip a beat.

He was well aware that he was falling in love with you; there was nothing he could do about it.

“I’m just messing around, calm down,” he said.

“You’re being rude,” your frown deepened, and Satoru kissed your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he dragged his fingers from your clit to your hole. “Let me make it up to you, okay?”

Slowly, he pushed two fingers in. The loud, unholy moan he elicited from you made you cover your mouth with your own hand and glance around in search of any prying eyes.

“Relax. No one’s around, I promise.” Satoru tried to sound calm and collected, but truth be told, your juices were soaking his fingers as he pumped them in and out of you.

Your uncontrollable moans made his dick harden against the fabric of his pants.

You were driving him crazy.

He pressed his clothed cock against your body, needing to feel something — anything — and he started to grind against your side.

It was funny. How desperate he was to fuck you. Touch your body in any sort of way.

And yet, he also wanted more.

Not in terms of you riding his cock or letting him lick at your clit — all of which he enjoyed, of course — but he also desired other things as well.

Some nights, after stroking his cock underneath his bedsheets as he thought about your annual hookup, he’d roll over onto his side, lay his head against his pillow, and daydream about what it would be like to go on a little date with you to a local coffee shop, and sip on lattes and cappuccinos while complaining about the stale pastries and getting to know each other.

Or, as he drifted off to sleep, he’d think about going to watch that brand new movie hitting the theaters that weekend with you. Two sodas. One bucket of popcorn to be shared. He’d let you hold it and cover it with as much salty butter as you wanted.

He thought about all the other things too. Not your curse kill count or the rankings of your students, but what your favorite color might have been, or if you liked to shower at night or in the morning. If you enjoyed the rain. What career path you would have taken if curses didn’t exist.

He wanted to know it all, but he couldn’t.

Because those details were only shared between lovers, not rivals with benefits.

“Wait,” you suddenly said.

Sliding your hand in between your bodies, you cupped Gojo’s dick through his pants, and slowly, you rubbed your fingers and palm over his bulge.

“Shit,” he groaned softly.

Satoru increased his fingering speed, curling those long fingers of his just right.

You put your hand down his pants.

Feeling your soft fingertips against his actual dick made Satoru gasp in pleasure, and when you started to stroke him — god, was he ready to cum into his own pants.

“We’re having a little competition right now, huh? See who cums first?” Satoru said breathlessly.

“Not . . . fair,” you paused, as his fingering technique was starting to take away your ability to think properly enough to form coherent sentences. You could only think about cumming all over his fingers. “You had a head start.”

“Speaking of head,” Satoru paused — he could hardly catch his breath. “If I win and I make you cum first, how about you get on your knees for me and suck my cock?”

Naturally, if you won, he’d eat you out until his mouth and tongue would never forget the taste of you, but truth be told, you were both winning either way.

At this point, you could barely focus on what the man was saying. No words fell from between your lips, only soft moans.

The rhythm in which you stroked Satoru’s cock had started to grow sloppy, while your thighs had begun to shake.

“Damn it, I’m-” you were interrupted by Satoru kissing you once again.

He couldn’t explain it, but he loved having his tongue down your throat whenever you’d cum, giving himself the privilege of swallowing every single beautiful noise you made.

Satoru fingered you roughly and deliciously as you moaned into his mouth. As you came all over his hand, he sucked on your tongue before pulling away.

Pulling his fingers out of you, Satoru raised his soaked hand to his mouth and licked them off.

“That’s nasty,” you glanced away shyly.

“You just don’t know how good you taste,” he started to pull down his pants. “I’m kinda sad that I won because your pussy is just fucking delicious. Now get on your knees.”

You lowered yourself onto the grass. As Satoru gripped your head and started to thrust in and out of your warm mouth, he tossed his head back, moaning.

He wanted to fuck your throat for hours and hours, cum into your mouth repeatedly until his body was incapable of producing anymore. Then, he would eat your pussy for as long as he could before fucking you in every position he could think of.

That’s what he wanted.

But he couldn’t.

You were both already running late. Everyone else must have been waiting in the spectating room for you both to arrive.

With that knowledge, he bucked his hips wildly, chasing his own release as soon as possible.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” He moaned. “Swallow all of it for me . . . every last drop.”

His heavy load sprayed down your throat as if it belonged there, and the sound of Satoru’s lovely moans eased any difficulty you might have had with swallowing it all. To hear him make those noises, even if he was your rival, made you also wish that you could stay on your knees and suck his cock for hours.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and he pulled his dick out of your mouth and helped you onto your feet.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have this year,” you said, wiping off your lips with the back of your hand. “It’s been fun.”

You gave him a pleasant smile, signaling your goodbye, and turned away, getting ready to head to the spectating room and watch the exchange event.

Satoru would surely join you in a few minutes — arriving separately would ease any suspicions — and afterward, you’d both pretend that your relationship amounted to nothing except professional, friendly competition.

Satoru suddenly wrapped his hand around your wrist, halting your footsteps.

“Wait,” he said. His tone was rather serious.

You turned around, looking into his eyes, and staring back at you was a look of complete nervousness; it was an expression that you had never seen grace Satoru’s face.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned. “We’re going to be late.”

“I was just thinking . . .” His eyes flicked down to his feet, then back up at you. His cheeks were turning pink.

At that moment, you realized that despite his outrageously big ego, handsome appearance, incredible power, and sinful dirty talk, Satoru Gojo was shy.

“There’s no reason why we should only see each other once a year.”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows. “You wanna hook up more often than that? Won’t that raise the risk of getting caught?”

“Yes-well, no . . . I mean, I don’t really care what we do, I just wanna see you.” Satoru paused. “There’s no written rule that says two teachers from the sister schools can’t date or hook up. Maybe we’d get in trouble for doing it during the exchange event, but if we went to the cafe down the street together around noon this Saturday, I think it’ll be fine.”

“You want to go out with me?” You gave him a look of surprise, but then, the corners of your lips fell into a frown as you furrowed your brows. “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“No, not a prank. I’m being serious.”

You slowly started to smile. At the sight of your pretty grin, Satoru smiled as well.

“I’d love to,” you said.

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. His grin widened as he cleared his throat, attempting to keep his cool and failing miserably.

“Okay . . . okay, great. Well . . . you better start heading back. I’ll come in after you.”

With a nod, you walked off.

Satoru fell back against the nearby tree, pressing his hand to his head as his heart pounded and fluttered.

Nothing could wipe that grin off of his face, nor wash away that rose pink color decorating his cheeks.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru x reader #satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader #admirxation fic recs

5K notes · View notes

admirxation · 8 hours

Text

please ignore the constant liking of the gojo fics, another hyperfixation of a fictional man has come and UGH I NEED HIM 😫😫🤍

“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?

♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), missionary, degrading nickname, best friends to friends with benefits, bickering, slightly jealous gojo, you & gojo are both the strongest sorcerers in the world.

♡ — A/N; based on this drabble (: I love this man sm, I’d do his taxes for him btw // also, pls don’t repost my gif!

♡ — WC; 3k

“This is all your fault, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, so I was distracted,” Gojo kicked up his feet, placing his black boots across a pile of dusty skeleton heads as if he was at home, relaxing on his plush couch, and not trapped inside of the prison realm. “If I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly because it happened thirty seconds ago – you were distracted too. Who knew that seeing your dead classmate would throw you off?”

“Throw me off?” You frowned, moving around a pile of bones to sit down somewhat comfortably. “You nearly passed out. I saw it with my own eyes, Satoru.”

“Oh,” Giving a small chuckle, Gojo tilted his head a bit as he smirked. “So you could see that, but you couldn’t see the weird guy with the two short ponytails almost obliterate you?”

“I don’t remember that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See this?” Gojo lifted a skull pressing against his right leg, and he dangled it in front of you. “This would’ve been you if it wasn’t for me.”

“You dumbass,” you paused, rolling your eyes, “because of you, we’re both gonna end up exactly like that skeleton. You do realize we’re trapped in here, right? No way out?”

“Calm down. Someone will save us. I have faith, don’t you?”

“Hell no,” a small sigh fell from between your lips, “and you know what? I hope we don’t get saved. The fact that we let ourselves get captured like this is embarrassing. I absolutely cannot leave this stupid box and look another sorcerer in the eye after this. I’d rather die.”

“You’re pretty dramatic,” Gojo sighed. “I hear you, though. We really screwed this up. We should’ve picked different careers. I could’ve been a really nice basketball coach.”

“I would’ve been a coffee shop owner.” Distracted by your own what-if daydreams, you mistakenly leaned back on a pile of skeletons, nearly jumping out of your skin once you remembered that you were indeed lying on a pile of skeletons. “Shit! I gotta get outta here, I can’t do this.”

“Just calm down, it isn’t so bad.” As Gojo adjusted himself, he grunted. “Remember when you dressed up as a skeleton for Halloween? You manifested this.”

“I should’ve never taught you that word,” frowning, you stood up, glancing around the dark inner workings of the prison realm. “How can you relax in a place like this? Aren’t you uncomfortable? Or at least a little bit scared?”

“Hmm, no.” Gojo grinned.

“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re too stupid to know when to be scared.”

“Ouch,” Gojo said dramatically, a hint of amusement coating his words. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re not a coffee shop owner. You’d probably toss random shit in someone’s coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.”

“You shut up,” Gojo retorted childishly.

Deep breathing exercises had certainly come in handy during moments such as this one.

Although years upon years had passed since you and Gojo were kids, running around in Halloween costumes and splitting popsicles, it felt as if no time had passed at all whenever you two held a conversation.

Even so, how exactly did it come to this?

Gojo never truly had an ordinary childhood — you were the only normal thing in his life at the time — but you grew up rather unextraordinary.

A normal girl, one who went to school and did her classwork before sneaking off to a secluded lake in the late afternoons with Gojo, skipping rocks and eating sandwiches together.

It was a beautifully plain life. One that was ripped away from you by curses and sorcery.

The only silver lining that truly existed was your old classmates; the dear friends you made once you attended Jujutsu High all those years ago, and in particular, a dark-haired, mellow guy.

“Must’ve been really hard for you,” Gojo suddenly mumbled, “seeing Suguru again. You two had gotten pretty close, right? Up until he . . . left?”

“What’s up with the mumbling? Now isn’t the time for you to get jealous.”

“I’m not,” Gojo mumbled once again, turning his head away from you. “It’s not like that was the real Suguru anyway. Our Suguru is gone for good.”

“Yeah.” The sad tone of your voice is what grabbed Gojo’s attention. One thing that was stronger than his jealousy over you and Geto’s old fondness for one another was his deep concern for you.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gojo smiled softly, facing you once again.

“Huh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I said come here.”

Hesitantly, you walked over to where Gojo was stretched out among the bones, sitting down on the ground beside him as best as you could with all the skeletons around. As you looked at him, it was rather impossible to understand how he could relax so comfortably.

“Come closer,” he held his arm out, waving you over.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause I wanna hold you, so just come here.” Suddenly, Gojo leaned up a bit, grabbing ahold of your wrist before pulling you on top of him.

With his other hand, he gripped the back of your thigh, moving your leg over his hips as he leaned back. He sighed with contentment once you were fully on top of him. Releasing your wrist, the white-haired man touched the side of your face, slowly guiding your head to his chest. “See? Isn’t this better than laying on those skeletons?”

“I guess so,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Why are you so tense?” Gojo guided his hand across one of your shoulders, and he started to rub it.

“Hard to relax when you’re trapped in the prison realm,” you paused. “Not to mention I’m literally laying on top of you.”

“So? We hug and stuff all the time.”

“This is more than hugging, and we’ve barely done that,” you smiled softly. “Kinda nice, though. You’re pretty warm.”

“You’re pretty warm too. And really soft.” With his other hand — the one that never left your thigh — Gojo slowly stroked you, gliding his hand up and down, but not daring to touch your ass just yet.

But he wanted to. Desperately.

Suddenly, Gojo shifted his body, squirming just a bit.

“You okay?” You questioned, lifting your head off of his chest to look at his blindfolded face. “Want me to get off?”

“No, not at all, everything’s fine,” Gojo lied.

Truth be told, his dick was starting to harden in his pants, and he could barely stand it.

“Oh, okay,” laying your head back down on Gojo’s chest, you spoke once again. “Satoru? What are we supposed to do until someone saves us? Just sit here and wait?”

“No, that’s a bad idea,” Gojo said.

“Then what should we do?”

Before he answered, Gojo placed his finger underneath his blindfold, pulling at it playfully.

“Well, we should probably fuck, right?”

It took a moment for Gojo’s sinful words to fully sink in. Upon realizing that you had heard him correctly, your head snapped up, your eyes widening with utter shock.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart,” Gojo smirked. “No need to make such a big deal out of it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but . . .” You paused, darting your eyes across the vast, skeleton-filled, dark space. “Here? Of all places?”

Gojo shifted once again. He gripped his pants, but he truthfully wanted to grip his cock instead.

“I’d fuck you anywhere,” Gojo said lowly. “I just think it’s time we finally fuck each other, don’t you?”

Suddenly, his large hand gripped the back of your head, and your best friend shoved his lips against yours.

“Hmm,” Gojo moaned softly, kissing you passionately with those sweet, feathery lips of his. Kissing you — finally, after so many years of dreaming about it — was a magical experience. Before, he never believed in soulmates or seeing fireworks when kissing someone — until now.

“Shit, you’re so . . .” His words trailed off as he pulled away, his warm breath patting against your pretty face.

“Satoru,” you mumbled against his lips, “I didn’t know you thought of me this way. I didn’t think that I’d be someone you’d wanna sleep with.”

“Really? Why’s that?” As Gojo spoke, he took off his blindfold, staring at you — then your lips — with those vibrant, ocean-blue eyes of his.

“We’ve barely even hugged,” when you frowned, just a little bit, Gojo wanted to kiss your pouty lips over and over again until his mouth was sore.

God, he wanted you in ways he couldn’t even begin to vocalize.

But he’d certainly try.

“And I thought I was being obvious this entire time,” Gojo paused. “Whenever we would fight together, side by side, do you know how hard it was to concentrate? All I could ever focus on in the middle of battle was trying not to let myself get distracted by you. Hearing you grunt and groan, just watching the way you’d move. I’ve always wanted to take you home with me once the fight ended, toss you on my bed, and find out all the noises you can make; see how loud you can get. I just gotta hear you moan for me, baby. I have to.”

Running his thumb over your soft mouth, he slightly pulled down on your bottom lip, all before he leaned in again, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his lips.

This time, when he kissed you, he didn’t hold back. That sweet tongue of his entered your mouth as if it was on a mission, and he swirled his tongue around yours, enjoying every little surprised noise you made just as much as he enjoyed tasting your delicious mouth. He’d kiss you forever if he could.

A small part of him hoped that the two of you would never get released, and he could spend eternity with his tongue sloppily flicking against yours.

A pair of large hands suddenly gripped your ass. When you gasped, pulling away from Gojo’s lips, he smiled. You were just too cute.

Who knew that the prison realm would actually turn out to be heaven?

“You’re so tense,” Gojo said with a hint of a teasing tone. “Has no one ever touched you like this before?”

“People have — I mean, I’ve done stuff before, it’s just . . .”

When you failed to finish your sentence, Gojo took it upon himself to finish it for you.

“It’s just that no one’s ever made you feel good before,” his sly grin only grew. “Right?”

“I-” you stammered, “that’s none of your business.”

“Lay down.”

“Why?” You asked, your curiosity at its peak.

“I wanna eat you out, sweet girl. Now lay down.” Gojo’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, and he lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him.

He then flipped over on top of you, giving you another kiss — a little, quick one — before he started to impatiently unbutton your pants.

“What kinda best friend would I be if I just let you keep living your life without having had a proper orgasm?” He said, shrugging off your bottoms. “Told you not to waste any time with all those shitty guys. You should’ve been with me from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your elbows, looking down at the sorcerer between your thighs, who slowly pulled down your underwear and held your legs open. “You’re not the first guy who has said a bunch of hot things to me, but then failed to deliver-”

You were interrupted by your own unexpected gasp, as it was elicited from your throat thanks to Gojo’s skillful tongue, which had swiped right across your clit.

He was such a tease; that tongue of his could work wonders. And it did. He flicked at your clit rapidly, and during every quick stroke, his eyes never glanced away from your face.

You started to squirm, but he held onto your thighs, convinced that absolutely nothing in this world could make him want to stop eating your pussy. Not when it tasted so undeniably good.

“Had no idea this pretty pussy was so damn delicious,” he pulled away, mumbling against your wet folds. “Should’ve done this a long time ago, baby.”

When he dived back into your pussy, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked. Good god, you tasted amazing. So, so amazing. He couldn’t help but moan as he made a mess of your pussy; your juices and his spit decorating his face.

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned, “I’m close-”

Once again, your words were cut off by your own uncontrollable moans. That sweet orgasm was brewing right in the pit of your stomach.

You expected him to pull away once you warned him about your approaching orgasm, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his calloused fingertips into your plush thighs even harder, and he ate your pussy as messily as possible. Licked at it more rapidly. Sucked on your clit more hungrily.

“Cum in my mouth,” he moaned out in between licks. “Don’t hold back; I want it all. Cum in my mouth right now.”

“Gojo!” You called out. Last warning.

Instead of pulling away, he reached forward, grabbing ahold of your soft tits. With his fingers, he flicked at your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And with that, you arched your back off of the hard ground, moaning his name over and over again like a sinner praying for forgiveness.

Gojo lapped up your juices as if he was dying of thirst. He’ll be damned if he missed even a single drop of it.

“Damn it,” he said as he detached his lips from your swollen clit. “I wanna eat you out over and over again, but I gotta fuck you. I just gotta know what it’s like to be inside of you.”

Gojo sat up on his knees. He unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled them down, along with his boxers, his hard dick flung out.

You couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing large dick. The tip of it was red and swollen, precum dripping from his aching hole. Two long, thick veins ran along his member.

“You’re so big,” you stated, darting your eyes between his hard cock and handsome face.

“It’s okay,” Positioning himself in between your legs, he said, “I’ll make it fit, baby.”

When he pressed the tip of his dick against your awaiting hole, it felt like he was stepping through the gates of heaven.

One hand was placed next to your head, holding himself up, while his other hand gripped your hip.

His dick slid inside of your soaking wet pussy as if it belonged there; pieces of a puzzle coming together. The sinful moan that fell from between his lips was beautiful.

He couldn’t help it.

Not when your pussy was so tight, wet, and warm.

“Hmm, hey baby?” Gojo whispered, his warm breath patting against your ear, soft white hair tickling the side of your face. “You called me Gojo instead of Satoru earlier when I was eating your pussy. I want you to moan it again for me, over and over again. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Such a sweet girl,” he gave the shell of your ear a quick little lick. “So, so sweet.”

He didn’t wait too long to start thrusting in and out of you once your pussy had adjusted to his size. He simply couldn’t. Not when you felt so utterly amazing.

With his lips still close to your ear as he fucked you, the chatty man whispered all sorts of dirty things. And it only made you moan even louder.

“I could fuck you just like this forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grunted, slamming himself inside of you at a quicker pace. “Sorry if I’m being too rough. I can’t help it, baby. Your pussy’s driving me crazy, just like I knew it would. I knew my best friend would feel this good. Who else other than me would know what to do with a pussy like this? Hm?”

“Gojo,” you called out, gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Gojo, I can’t- I’m gonna cum again!”

“Already?” He smirked, pulling away from your ear, his face only a few inches away from yours. “Gonna cum all over my dick? Make a mess?”

You didn’t respond — you couldn’t respond — not when he rhythmically fucked you like a doll, the tip of his dick reaching all the right spots inside of you.

“Shit,” Gojo suddenly groaned. “Think I’m gonna cum too, baby. I can’t hold it . . . Can’t fucking hold it much longer. I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff that pretty pussy with my cum. No one else will get to.”

“Please do it,” you stammered out with a whine, struggling to speak from the way your body was being pounded into. “P-Please!”

Suddenly, Gojo felt your pussy tighten around his cock. A wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your toes curl as you moaned his name in broken syllables.

The prettiest tears started to fall from your eyes. Gojo kissed them away.

His own orgasm was approaching quickly, building up in his lower stomach, dick, balls, and even his thighs.

“I’m so close — I’m right there, baby. I’m right there. Shit — I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby — there’s so much of it. I’m cumming-”

Feeling your cum coat his cock as your pussy milked him pushed him right over the edge. He moaned so loudly, it would have been entirely unsurprising if someone could have heard it from outside of the box.

He shot ropes upon ropes of warm, thick, pearly cum inside of you. His dick throbbed with every pulse, spilling every last drop of his semen into your stuffed hole.

“Baby,” Gojo whined lowly, attempting to catch his breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming. You drive me crazy.”

“Can we go again?” Looking into his eyes with a pleading glance, you said, “I need more, Gojo, make me cum again. Please?”

“Did I just turn my best friend into my little slut?” Smirking, Gojo leaned down, kissing your lips once again. It was his favorite thing to do. “I’ll make you cum as many times as you want, sweetheart. We might be here for a while, so why not?”

Suddenly, Gojo lifted you, switching your positions until you were sitting right on top of him, his dick still inside of you.

“The prison realm doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you grinned.

Gripping your hips, Gojo’s eyes scanned over your beautiful body, admiring the perfect view as you started to ride him.

Perhaps, he would have to thank Kenjaku someday.

🏷: @allofffmypeaches @manjiroswifo @yourusernames @armani78 @darkphoenix3432 @komonika

#jjk spoilers #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru gojo x reader smut #admirxation fic recs

39K notes · View notes

admirxation · 8 hours

Text

AFHFJFISIWODFOFJWBAODOOEWJBSD THIS WAS SO GOOD AHHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, MAKE HIM REAL SO HE CAN FEEL MY LOVE PLEASEEEEEE

this was so well written goddamn 🥺🥺🤍

“WHERE IS MY WIFE?”

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: curses & curse users have discovered satoru’s greatest weakness, and it’s you, satoru’s sweet, ordinary housewife. after getting kidnapped by gojo’s enemies, he’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ only - mdni - slightly dark content // brief smut, fem reader, feral gojo, canon-typical violence, reader gets kidnapped, reader is wounded/has injuries, angst, fluff/comfort

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5K

♡ —𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I’d count grains of sand if it meant I could spend one minute alone with feral gojo (:

As evening fell, and after a delicious dinner was eaten at the dining table downstairs, Satoru was in the mood for something else now — you.

His pretty housewife would be his dessert.

The apple pie you baked was sitting on the dark marbled counter of the kitchen island, two big slices missing — and the vanilla ice cream tub in the freezer had, of course, two hefty spherical digs in it where the cold treat was scooped out — but, even after his stomach was stuffed after a hard day of fighting curses and teaching his students, Satoru’s head was buried in between your soft thighs, satisfying his other craving.

As your husband moaned softly, his tongue danced around your aching clit. His large hand massaged your thigh. The moonlight pouring in through the big bedroom window shined upon his wedding ring, making it glisten as he rubbed your delicate skin.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” Satoru smiled a bit, his warm breath patting against your wet folds.

“You were made just for me. God, I love it. I love you.”

Two long fingers sunk into your awaiting hole. He attached his soft lips to your clit, sucking on it.

One of your hands gripped at the luxurious pale-cerulean sheets, while your other hand gripped his hair, fingers getting lost in his white locks.

“Satoru!” A sharp moan escaped your dried throat.

Every little noise you made — every moan, every squeak of the thick mattress — it all boasted his desire to please you.

He didn’t stop his licking-sucking-fingering combo until your legs were trembling around his head and he was satisfied with tasting your juices.

Only after devouring your pussy like a starving man feasting on a buffet-style dinner did he rise from his position and make his way across the bed, hovering over you.

With a smile, Satoru leaned down and planted a soft kiss against your lips. But, when he pulled away, he was met with an amused look of disgust.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his brows a bit.

“You just kissed me after eating me out,” you said with a little, playful grimace. “That’s nasty.”

“Mrs. Gojo, I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but hush.” Satoru lightly tapped your forehead. “You have swallowed plenty of my-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” shaking your head, you cut off your husband’s naughty sentence, pressing your hand against his lips.

The corners of your mouth burned as you tried to fight off a smile. His latest affectionate nickname was Mrs. Gojo — although it truly wasn’t a nickname due to it technically being your name now — and at every given opportunity, he addressed you that way.

Even after two years of marriage, he was as excited as a freshly wedded man. Your love was a never-ending honeymoon.

You stared into Satoru’s striking blue eyes. He darted his gaze across your gorgeous face, illuminated by the moonlight, and as you ran your fingers through his white hair and he ran his thumb across your cheek, both of you close enough to feel the gentle pats of each other’s breaths on your mesmerizing faces, you both fell in love with each other just a bit more — if that was even possible.

“Can I fuck you now?”

Satoru’s question made a sudden chuckle spilled out from between your lips. He couldn’t help but laugh too.

“You’re a buffoon. I’m trying to admire your beauty and that’s what you open your mouth to say?” You playfully frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a human being call another human being a buffoon out loud before.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes humorously. “We need to do our skincare routine first. We have to do it an hour before we go to bed or else we might just rub all the product off. I read that somewhere.”

“Why didn’t we do it before we got into bed in the first place?” Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, pouting, but taking a moment to press a little kiss onto your skin.

“Because you were acting as if you were dying of poison and eating me out was the antidote, so I forgot.” you giggled softly.

“Fine, fine,” your husband slowly rolled off of you in defeat. “Skincare routine, nothing more. Please don’t start trying to organize the bath towels.”

“I’m not making any promises,” you said, getting out of bed and following Satoru into the master bathroom.

There, you and your husband stood in front of the big mirror, cleansing and moisturizing your skin as you both chatted about his students, a movie you watched three days ago, and your breakfast plans in the morning.

And it was those sweet little moments that made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. As he flickered his eyes over to your reflection, watching your smother smooth white cream all over your face as you rambled on about a new egg recipe, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved you.

—

6:00 A.M.

That night ended with soft sex and gentle kisses.

That morning, Satoru’s white eyelashes fluttered open to the early morning sun starting to rise, casting rays through the drawn window curtains and across his comforter.

He squinted his eyes and yawned.

Typically, he was the sort of man who would never wake up at the ungodly hour if he could help it, but the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling eggs had traveled from the kitchen downstairs to right underneath his nose.

Tossing on his blue houseboat, the grumpy-faced man dragged himself into the kitchen, greeting you with a slightly gruff morning voice and a messy head of hair.

“Good morning, baby,” Satoru walked around the kitchen island and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “How’d you sleep? I had a nightmare.”

With a spatula in one hand, you flipped the omelet in the skillet on the six-burner stove. With the other hand, you rubbed his arm, enjoying the warmth his hovering hug had brought.

“I slept alright,” you said. “Did the smell wake you up?”

“Always does,” he smiled lazily although you couldn’t see it.

“Well, your drink’s ready,” you gave a nod in the general direction of the silver espresso machine, which hummed as it brewed Satoru’s steamy beverage.

“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru’s arms hugged you tighter, and he showered the side of your head with kisses.

“Stop it,” your sweet laughter only egged him on as you clenched the spatula and leaned back against him even more. “No fooling around when we’re this close to the stove.”

Satoru eventually backed away after giving you one final kiss against your forehead temple.

“If all goes well, I should be back home tomorrow before dark, then we can check out that new restaurant. What do you say? I personally think it’s time for a date.”

The image of you and Satoru sipping on wine and as you wore your favorite dress flashed in your mind, and you smiled. A date night was certainly something to look forward to in light of Satoru’s overnight trip.

Sorcering duties had often taken him on distant work trips. Truth be told, you were lucky his departure would only last around twenty-four hours and not twenty-four days. Although you missed him whenever he would leave, you understood his choice of career. He was a hero.

You happened to be an ordinary human being. You couldn’t see curses. You couldn’t use cursed energy or cursed techniques, but you were fine with that.

“A date sounds fun! I’m excited now.” You took the omelet out of the skillet and placed it on a nearby plate. “And we’re making time to try out that new pottery class too. It sounds like such a cute date idea, don’t you think so?”

“I’m with you. I’ll make the reservations for the restaurant, you can schedule us for pottery-making.” This time, he was the one blissfully picturing you and him spinning messy clay with him sitting behind you and reaching around your body for the pottery wheel, your fingers intertwined as you both created a pot. Satoru smiled at the thought. “Anyway, now that you’re done cooking, can I kiss you?”

You nodded with a cheeky grin, and your husband pressed his lips against yours sweetly.

It was as if some part of him was frightened that he would never get the opportunity to kiss you again.

—

8:37 P.M.

The bright light far above your head flickered briefly as you stood in the pasta aisle at your local grocery store, but you hadn’t noticed it, too fixated on the different brands of spaghetti noodles lying on the shelf above you.

Shopping at night wasn’t preferable, but only after tossing together a simmering pan of sauce did you realize you hadn’t started boiling your noodles yet.

And, with your pot of simmering water ready, you opened the cabinet to see no noodles.

So, here you were, making a last-minute, unplanned trip to the grocery store.

By now, the only sort of pasta noodles left were the ones that a person of average height couldn’t reach. Every box was too high.

You turned your head to the left and to the right.

You even bothered to walk down a few aisles to search for an employee or anyone who might have been tall enough to reach your needed item, but the only other person staggering around was an older blonde-haired woman who was shorter than you were.

Frowning in frustration, you returned to the pasta aisle.

If you had to climb the shelves, so be it.

Suddenly, a kind voice spoke over the calming public-friendly background music playing softly in the store.

“Need some help?”

Whipping your head around, you saw a person — a taller person, thank goodness — who had a smile that was just as sweet as his voice.

“Yes, thank you!” You found that his grin was rather contagious, as you ended up smiling as well. “I just need the spaghetti noodles on the top shelf. Any brand will do.”

The beaming man with long, dark hair stepped forward, and you moved to the side, letting the apparent hero save your day.

He pulled down your desired spaghetti noodles with ease.

“Thanks for your help. My spaghetti sauce won’t go to waste now,” you said politely.

Your eyes darted up to the stitched scar across his forehead, then quickly, you glanced away.

“You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

The man walked down the aisle and left.

There was something familiar about him, oddly enough.

That hair . . . that smile . . .

He reminded you of an old, deceased friend of Satoru’s, one that you hadn’t ever met due to his villainous behavior before his death, but you had seen an old picture of him that he and your husband took during their second year at Jujutsu High, years ago.

As you placed the pasta noodles into your cart, making your way around different aisles to collect a few more items since you were already at the store, you decided that you’d take another look at that photograph once you arrived home, just for peace of mind.

The brown paper bag stuffed with groceries felt rather heavy as you walked down the street, which was brightened by light pouring out of the windows of local businesses that hadn’t yet closed.

You sighed softly.

The dark sky was sparkling with stars. The air was cool and comforting. Soon, you’d have pasta, and perhaps, you’d watch a few episodes of your favorite binge-worthy Netflix show.

If only Satoru was with you.

Chatting with him on the phone a few hours ago only made you miss him even more, but, at least his trip would be a quick one, and soon, you could have dinner with him and listen to his hilarious commentary as you watched television together.

After walking for around five minutes, you were no longer close to the local businesses that made you feel a sense of comfort during your evening stroll.

Now, you had to rely on the occasional streetlight to guide you home.

But that cold air was no longer comforting. It was a chilling breeze that made you clench your grocery bag a bit tighter.

Your footsteps suddenly halted — you could hear something moving in the nearby bushes.

Turning around, you were greeted with nothing but darkness and streetlights. No one else was with you. You kept walking.

However, something wasn’t right.

You might not have been a sorcerer, but you weren’t a fool.

And you had a gut-wrenching feeling that right now, as your wobbly legs guided you home, you were being watched.

You heard that noise again.

The grocery bag crinkled against your chest. You were certain that the bread you purchased was squished by now. If someone was following you, did you really want to unintentionally lead them to your home?

Where should you go? What should you do?

A tear rolled down your cheek from fear.

You were scared. You only wanted to go home, finish your pasta, and watch television.

You didn’t want to deal with such a potentially terrifying situation.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your dial screen.

Your trembling thumb hovered over the buttons, but before you could press anything, a black, disfigured curse appeared in front of you, screeching loudly enough to make you drop everything in your hands and cover your ears, more tears falling as the horrifying monster started to charge at you.

You tried to run in the other direction, but it was too late.

The last thing you saw before you were engulfed by darkness was that man from the grocery store standing on the sidewalk, that same sweet smile on his familiar face.

—

12:27 A.M.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, as he had spent most of the night tossing and turning because you weren’t lying next to him. But, apparently, he did manage to catch a couple of hours of shut-eye.

When he awakened, there was a terrible ache in his heart. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. His throat was dried to a crisp.

He was all alone in his dark hotel room.

He couldn’t hear you.

He couldn’t see you.

And yet, somehow, someway, thanks to his great power, he knew that his wife was calling for him.

—

The overwhelming scent of old, wet, musky wood and dust would never be forgotten by your memory. A lifetime of therapy would never be able to erase the paralyzing fear you felt, sitting on the cold, hard ground of an abandoned cabin with your hands bound behind your back.

Maybe the fear wasn’t completely paralyzing, though. Your body seemed to tremble with terror just fine.

The sight of it made Suguru Geto — no, Kenjaku chuckle.

He kept his eye on you for no other reason besides his entertainment, as watching you himself was pointless considering he had two frightening curses looming over you.

Once, Satoru shared a fun fact with you: regular human beings cannot see curses unless they are about to die.

That fact was certainly interesting when the two of you were strolling through the beautiful park, a red and white striped blanket in your hand and a picnic basket in his. But, now, that fact only made sweat drip off of your scarred forehead, because you could see the two, black, disfigured curses.

It was a telltale sign that you could die.

“I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting him myself,” Kenjaku suddenly spoke, relaxing in a chair he had positioned a few feet away from the corner you were trapped in. “But I have seen memories of Satoru Gojo that belonged to this body I’ve inhabited. And, I must say, I couldn’t imagine that his wife would be such a weakling. It’s truly pathetic.”

Even if you wanted to reply to him, fear had snatched away your ability to speak. It created a lump in your throat that couldn’t be swallowed down.

“My best guess is that he needs someone boring and ordinary in his life to keep house while he’s busy saving the world. You’re just the cook and maid with a ring on her finger, hm?”

“He loves me.”

Your voice was small — it was a painfully perfect reflection of how you felt on the inside. Weak and pathetic.

“Oh?” Kenjaku raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. “Believe it or not, I hope you’re right, or else kidnapping you was a waste of time.”

Your chains rattled as you shifted in your spot on the floor, scooting as far into the corner as you could get. An ache shot up your spine from the wall pressing into your back. Pulling your knees to your chest, more tears slipped from your eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he falsely cooed. “Surely you’ve wondered why the world’s strongest sorcerer would settle for someone who forgets to double-check all of their ingredients before they start cooking, haven’t you? It’s not because of love, or anything of the sort. It’s because those who are deeply insecure would do anything to please anyone who looks their way. Only an ordinary, desperate housewife with low self-esteem and no ambition would waste time caring for a man who risks his life saving strangers. What would make you think he cares for you when he spends more time with curses than his own wife? Helping strangers more than his own family? Think about it.”

Kenjaku’s hurtful words were met with silence, but he didn’t stop speaking.

“I bet you’re nothing but a burden to him. Someone like him probably hates being tied down, but marrying a fool who contributes nothing to society is the only way he can get someone else to handle his laundry while he’s busy working hard, hm? He must carry around divorce papers, ready to serve them to you the day you forget to buy detergent from the grocery store.” Kenjaku’s smile brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. You dropped your detergent and other groceries on the road earlier, by the way. Looks like you’re useless now.”

“You . . .” your teary eyes flickered from him to the hovering curses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of that’s true.”

“You have to believe that I’m speaking honestly, Y/N.” Kenjaku sighed with fake sincerity. “My entire plan rests on the hope that Satoru Gojo is foolish enough to try to rescue you. You see, when you want to lure someone out, the proper way to do it is by discovering their weaknesses. When I found out about you, I was hoping that you would be his weakness. That I could use you to lure him out. Then I met you, and, well, you’re simply disappointing. Sorry to break it to you, but I have memories of the old conversations Satoru used to have with Suguru, and being tied down to a powerless housewife was certainly not how he imagined his future. But, I figured I’d try anyway, and so here you are, and he’s not here to rescue you. What a shame. I bet he’s hoping I’ll kill you so he’ll be free.”

He was lying. He had to be. Satoru loved you more than anything . . . right?

The thought had crossed your mind before; why did Satoru want to be with someone powerless? And this villain’s plan to lure out your husband relied on his hope that he’d come to rescue you out of love, so how would it benefit him to convince you Satoru didn’t love you?

Maybe he was right.

After all, if Satoru cared for you, he would have saved you by now. Where was he?

You couldn’t help but cry even harder.

“Please let me go home,” your tears clouded your vision. “Please let me go.”

“Well, you should know that I hate wasting time,” Kenjaku rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow pressing into the arm of the chair he sat in. “I can’t let you leave. I won’t let the effort I put into kidnapping you be a total waste.”

Kenjaku’s smile widened, and suddenly, the curses started to move towards you.

—

1:45 A.M.

The subway station was isolated. No ordinary human beings were lurking around, and Satoru was relieved. Right now, he’d kill anyone who looked at him the wrong way.

His shoes gently shuffled against the ground as he made his way into the middle of the big, bright opening, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palm, hard enough to draw blood.

Two special grade cursed spirits emerged. He recognized them both from a previous fight in the woods.

Volcano head. Asparagus.

“Satoru Gojo,” Jogo suddenly said. “We didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to-”

“Where is my wife?”

When Satoru interrupted the curse, his voice was low. Dark. Startling.

Blood dripped from his palms and splattered onto the ground.

“I was drawn here, but she isn’t here, is she? Where is she? Tell me now, and I’ll kill you quickly instead of slowly.”

Jogo chuckled a bit. Satoru dug his nails into his palm even more.

“Bring us the vessel, Yuji Itadori, and we’ll return that worthless-”

The two curses didn’t have time to blink — weren’t able to register in their minds that Satoru had moved from his previous spot until Jogo was lifted off of the ground and thrown into the flickering light fixture above, shattering it and causing sparks to rain down onto the ground below, where he then fell.

Satoru stepped on Jogo’s head, squishing it underneath his black shoe.

“I remember you. You’re stubborn, right?” Satoru gritted his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to take her from me? Whoever you work for must want you dead if they’re stupid enough to send you on a suicide mission. You think I’ll let you leave here alive after this?”

“If you kill us, you’ll never see her again,” the other cursed spirit, Hanami, suddenly spoke up. “Bring us the vessel, and she lives.”

When Satoru suddenly stopped moving, it was only to ensure that he had heard the cursed spirit correctly.

“Did you just threaten . . .” Satoru removed his blindfold, “to kill my wife?”

It was only a matter of time before the branches attached to Hanami’s head were ripped out, and Jogo was beheaded. The subway was reduced to nothing except crumbling walls and darkness. While the cursed spirits were teetering dangerously between life and death, there wasn’t a scratch on Satoru. Instead, there was a smile.

This was simply the consequence of their actions. This was what happened to anyone who laid a hand on his girl.

Hanami’s body was on the brink of collapse as it was forced to come in contact with Satoru’s cursed technique — a blue shield-like piece of infinity that distorted and manipulated both time and space, protecting the sorcerer from attacks and rendering Hanami powerless.

Hanami’s eyes darted over to their beheaded ally — they couldn’t help him.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Satoru’s eyes widened. His smile grew. He slowly turned, facing Hanami, and blasted him back against the nearest wall without lifting a finger. “Where is my wife?”

—

2:39 A.M.

Kenjaku had never understood the concept of love, and, perhaps, that was why he failed.

Satoru’s love for you was his weakness, that was true, but it also turned out to be his greatest strength, and this was a fight Kenjaku couldn’t win.

Not today.

One of his curses, which had been traveling to and fro to observe what was currently taking place in the subway station and reporting it back to Kenjaku, had informed him that Jogo and Hanami were on the brink of death.

He couldn’t lose them yet. They were too powerful, and he needed their help for his future plans.

Kenjaku left the cabin, taking his curses with him.

And, without their cursed energy purposely making it difficult for Satoru to find you, he was able to pinpoint your exact location.

It appeared in his powerful mind as he was ripping Hanami apart limb by limb, and he wasn’t a fool. He didn’t know who was behind all of this, but it was clear that the mastermind had suddenly decided to let your whereabouts be tracked down in order to save Hanami and Jogo.

He didn’t want to make that deal. He wanted to kill these two, bring them back to life, and kill them over again. Their pain brought him joy, all because they took part in your capture.

But Satoru didn’t want his bloodlust to backfire. After all, if he killed the cursed spirits now, the person who held you captive could change their mind and move you someplace else and hide your location yet again, or, worse — they could kill you.

That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

Satoru stopped using his technique. But, as he left the subway station, he promised himself that eventually, he would kill those two. He would kill anyone and everyone involved.

But you came first.

You would always come first.

—

He found you.

When Satoru kicked open the door belonging to a raggedy, abandoned cabin, the scent of blood overwhelmed him. It dirtied his boots as he kneeled by your side. Your unconscious, bleeding body was lying there, simply left on the ground as if you were nothing.

“Y/N . . .” Satoru called out breathlessly.

He took the chains off of you instantly, his bloodshot eyes darting over every gaping wound.

It was indescribable — the anger he felt. He wanted to return to the subway and finish off those cursed spirits, to make them suffer and suffer and suffer.

But tending to you took priority right now. Satoru scooped up your broken and bruised body, holding you as softly as he could. A tear fell from his eye, splattering against your cheek.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he spoke gently.

Your eyelids fluttered as you awakened. An overwhelming sense of pain slammed into you once you regained consciousness, and hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Prior to this, the only pain you had ever known was the wholesome body ache from tripping and falling while playing outside with your friends as a child. But this level of misery took away your ability to speak. Left you wondering if you were going to die.

You could make out stains of your blood on Satoru’s clothes.

Even so, you could tell based on the pained look on his face that he was suffering even more just from seeing you in such a condition.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbled, slowly getting off the ground as he carried you. “This is all my fault. They did this to you because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Satoru raised you a bit, gently pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

He’d give anything to switch places with you right now — to be the one in unspeakable pain. Why couldn’t they have kidnapped him? Tortured him? If he had the power to take away your suffering and give it to himself, he would. For you, not only would he kill, but he’d die, repeatedly and without a second thought or a moment of hesitation.

As Satoru took you to the nearest hospital, his tears spilling onto your body, he said, “We’re almost there, okay? I promise I’ll make them pay for this, and no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”

Arriving into the uncomforting white halls of the emergency room, Satoru handed you off to the nurses and doctors who rushed up to him. But, before they placed you on the nearest stretcher, Satoru kissed your forehead once again as unconsciousness claimed you, and he whispered, “I love you, Y/N.”

—

10:02 A.M.

Two days later, you awakened in a hospital bed. This time, pain didn’t greet you, but grogginess and blurred vision. The gentle beeps from the nearby machines certainly didn’t help your pounding headache.

Your sight started to clear up after blinking a few times.

Soft strands of hair tickled your arm, and when you looked to your left, you saw Satoru slumped in a chair, his head resting in his arms on the side of your bed. You reached over and ruffled his messy white hair a bit.

He shot up, startled. His blue eyes were wide with alarm, then they softened with gratefulness, but, lastly, they darted down with sorrow.

“Y/N . . . thank god, you’re awake.” Satoru croaked out in his morning voice, clearing his throat a bit. He was dehydrated — too focused on your recovery to worry about himself. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so . . .”

Satoru got out of his chair, sat on the side of your bed, and leaned over, resting the side of his head against your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled weakly. “It’s mine.”

Satoru pulled his head away from you, staring at you with furrowed brows and a confused gaze.

“What? No, it’s not.”

You couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eye. Kenjaku’s words replayed in your mind. They hurt just as much as getting attacked by curses.

As if reading your thoughts, Satoru cupped your chin, turning your head back in his direction.

“Look at me,” he said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t care if you can’t fight curses-”

“You’re just saying that . . . because I’m kinda useful to you. But I’m easily replaceable. Speaking honestly, I’m a burden. You had to come save my life, and put yourself in danger. I’m not worth it.”

“You think I married you because you’re useful?” Hurt flashed in Satoru’s piercing eyes. “I’m in love with you, and you’ll never be a burden. I don’t care if you can’t fight curses. You’re my wife for a reason, and that’s because there’s nothing greater than seeing you get excited over finding your favorite snack at the grocery store or seeing the way you smile when your favorite scene from a show comes on, and you sit there and watch it as if you haven't seen it a thousand times. I love the way your eyes light up when you find a new activity in town for us to try, or a new book to read, or a new recipe. God, I just . . . I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t know how you’re able to put up with someone like me. Every day I wonder how I got so lucky because I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, and I haven’t met anyone as loving as you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do you understand me? I’d kill and die for you.”

Satoru gently wiped away the tear that fell from your eyes with his thumb.

“I love you too,” you smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry we missed our dinner reservations and the pottery class.”

Satoru couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your cheek.

“I’ve already rescheduled two weeks out.”

Moving away from your cheek, your husband softly kissed your lips. And while he had spent time rescheduling your date night and making sure you were receiving the excellent care you deserved while in the hospital, he was also hard at work, tracking down the monsters that dared to lay a hand on you.

He would make them suffer.

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @nnasv @hyunorue

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #admirxation fic recs

9K notes · View notes

admirxation · 10 hours

Text

*sigh* he’s just a girl…

279 notes · View notes

admirxation · 18 hours

Text

My Roman Empire.

5K notes · View notes

admirxation · 18 hours

Text

i started jjk season two and omg TOJI sfhbesdjkhajkfghakfghkasfgvsdfhjsfkasdfja, at first i was like whose the fucking weirdo exposing the grippers and then i heard his voice and that face AHHHHHH

#admirxation speaks #jjk #toji fushiguro #admirxation updates #anime #anime watchlist #anime watchlist comentary

8 notes · View notes

admirxation · 18 hours

Text

ASHLEY JOHNSON & BELLA RAMSEY as ANNA & ELLIE WILLIAMS THE LAST OF US | Season One

38K notes · View notes

admirxation · 19 hours

Text

working on a yandere leon oneshot atm, and then i’m gonna get some more father in law leon stuff and then after im giving my man joel miller some love 🫶🫶

#admirxation #admirxation speaks #admirxation wips #wips #my wips #updates #fanfic updates

12 notes · View notes

admirxation · 1 day

Text

OMFG THIS FR COOKED

IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

I CANNOT BE NORMAL

AFBFFIESODOFOFJEJAOSJFBWJWIW

MOMMY JILL IS MY WEAKNESS - THIS WAS AMAZING !!!!!!

d is for delightful

mdni

jill valentine x reader

warnings: incest, mother - daughter incest, fem!reader, jill fucks with a strap, reference to a strap as a cock, mommy kink, age difference, mommy kink, mother jill/daughter reader, dead dove: do not eat

a/n: would say this a 500 follower special but. that would be a lie. sorry xx. i'm not officially back from my hiatus but i just felt like writing so here x. tag for @prettyevermores because i promised i'd tag her x

title is from d is for dangerous by arctic monkeys

wc: 1.7k

There are many lines that you live by, ones that stem from plain stupid to ones that belong to the bible. Really, the Vehn diagram looks fucking messy when it comes to one liners to pull out.

‘Momma didn't raise no bitch’ is something you swear by, especially when you're stuck on a shitty date, with a shitty girl and with shitty food. You must've lucked out.

Multiple tactics cross your mind. Bathroom doors, main exit doors, a bar and many other possibilities to end this date flow freely in your head.

It's not like this girl can use the excuse that ‘the man should always pay on the first date’, because you're both women, and you're not butch either.

You're just mediocre, so the fact you even landed this date is calling yourself lucky. But with this bitch opposite you? A wonderful state of affairs.

“I'm going to use the bathroom.” The words tumble out, and you can't even take it back. Who even takes back about going to the toilet? Nature calling to you is a very serious situation and must not be taken lightly.

“Okay.” Not even a glance. Maybe you don't deserve one, and maybe it's better that way, because the look of sheer defeat of the stale date covers your face like you've caught the plague.

You don't even look back as you head outside and shakily pull your phone out. Ma needs to pick you up, and Ma also needs to hear about the gone to shit date.

So, yeah. You'd say ‘Momma didn't raise no bitch’ is your go to line. Even though you are a bitch, because you ditched a date and let a poor unassuming woman pay for it. And for what?

Getting the ick can be dangerous, maybe even fatal, you supposed.

“Your date went so badly that you had me pick you up in less than an hour?” Unfortunately, yes. Shit happens, and getting cold feet while on a date is one thing.

Your mother doesn't look impressed, and really, you don't blame her. Waste of fuel, waste of time, waste of a lot of things, but whatever.

But you're sitting in her car, the warmth blowing in your face as you head home. Rather than a stuffy restaurant, you're in a stuffy car. Just your luck.

“Either you have really high standards,” She pauses, then turns to you. “Or she was a bitch to the core.”

You look at your Ma, you really do look at her. Her hypotheses are sound, and you'd agree on the second reason because that is technically why you left.

The real reason is not there, but saying anything on it would be spoiling it for your mother on your true intentions, and you'd rather have her keep guessing.

“She wasn't uh--” The right words don't come, you just kind of sit there with your jaw ajar, waiting for the right words, until they do. “She wasn't great to be honest.”

Damn straight. And also that you're infatuated with your mother, Jill Valentine.

–

With many discoveries, there's always that clarity of realisation that strikes through man. It leaves you on cloud nine, leaves you rushing to figure out more or let your mind wander on it more.

Then, it's regret. To be fair, crushing on your mother isn't exactly the thing people win awards for. Moreso lands you with a jail sentence and lifetime regret.

You'd hoped it was a phase. Don't all adults say that? That depression you suffered when you're that youthful age of fourteen, with scars on your wrists or thighs, that's a phase.

What about the drugs? Thirteen year old you smoking cigarettes and clashing empty vodka bottles in parks on a swing until you threw up. That's just plain old rebellion.

Is being utterly besotted with your mother a phase? It's sick, and awfully twisted. Maybe it's just a set up to just drag you down, or maybe just to send you spiralling down a road you'd rather not go.

You were never crazy, by your standards. You are who you are, living regrets and such is foolish. But this? It's bound to cling to you, taint your whole being because although being in love with her may merely just be a phase, it also happened.

Such a subject is not something you can tell over a late night drinking session with your partner either. It's something that has to stay dead and buried in your head, six feet under and hope it doesn't swell up into some reanimated corpse.

A diary could work, but even so, a misplaced diary could be fatal. One of your future kids (god forbid you even do have kids, that's commitment that you'll never be ready for) goes looking for it.

Wouldn't that be a story to tell?

You don't want to think about whether your mother reciprocates these feelings. You hope she doesn't, simply because the thought of her finding out tends to a shiver in your bones.

Rejection is harsh, rejection clings to a poisoned knife and digs its way into your heart. Yet, it's also a blanket, one all fuzzy and keeps you and your toes warm.

Rejection is easy, acceptance is complicated.

It's supposed to be the opposite way around, that's how it should be. For you, it's not. Self destructive tendencies and all, you reek of them.

“Honey.” A hand threading through your hair, moving it out of your face as you look up at her. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

Yeah, you should. Instead, you're spiralling about an issue you should (need) to get a grip over. Shit like this happens, why can't you accept it? “Ma.”

You can't accept it. Truth is, you want to rip the bandage off, be out with your secret to your mother. It's better that way, easier that way. Rejection, right? “I love you Ma.”

Jill's got that smile on her face, that one where it displays her endearment for you, the one where you say something sweet. But she doesn't get it, she doesn't.

You cling to her, the signature blue tank top furrowing under your fingernails, scarred with creases from your grip. “No- you don't get it. I love, love you.”

Your mouth is open, the temptation to say more is but a second away, however a finger rests just shy of your lips. “You shouldn't think like that-”

“I know- I know but I really love you, and I know it's probably a phase-” The floodgates are out. Well, they aren't fully open, but they aren't completely shut.

Embarrassment fuels you, adrenaline of the cynical situation drives you to speak, drives you to do something, just anything.

But you don't, you don't do anything. Instead, she does something, your mother does.

She kisses you. Lips on lips, you know, the standard stuff. It's a peck, not on the cheek, but more. “Did that feel wrong?”

Thinking about it seemed foolish, because really, it's been awhile since someone else's lips touched yours in such a way, and of course it wouldn't feel weird.

But it's Ma's lips, not some girl you went on a date with, or a drunken mistake, or anything else of that calibre. It's your mother, it's Jill Valentine, Miss Valentine.

“No- no Ma- it didn't.”

–

Whines and heavy breaths escaped your lips, the twisting and turning of your body as the pleasure scars through your veins, dulling all your other senses.

“Do you like it?” Faint on your ears, but loud as it echoed around the room. ”Do you like my cock?” You follow it with a nod. What else can you do?

One thing leads to another, it always does. So when you're laid on your stomach, hands clutching at the bed sheets while your mother fucks into you with her ‘cock’, you wonder what it all meant.

“Pretty fucking girl.” It's tight on her lips, a hand already running through your hair and pressing your face down into the sheets beneath you, uncaring of how painful it is on your nose. “Aren't you my pretty baby?”

“Yeah– Mommy's pretty baby.” You're quick with that response, eagerness slipping through your tone like it had no business being there. “I wanna be Mommy's pretty girl.”

“Oh yeah?” She laughs, it's like silk woven into the sound, an easy rest on your ears despite the jabbing at your cervix. “How bad?”

“So– so bad, really wanna– shit– really wanna be perfect for you.” Holy shit, you're besotted. It's like you've been caught under a spell, an enchantment of sorts. “Perfect for mommy.”

A reassuring squeeze from the hand sewed into your hair, before it tugs and chokes. “That's what I like to hear.”

The strap continuously suffocates you, giving you near little of any coherent material. Not like you had any in the first place, you're in love with your mother.

But that isn't coherency, that's insanity.

Noisy squelching sounds blend in with the pleasure you feel, the vulgarity of them truly not hitting you as the rope in you threatened to snap.

You vaguely register Jill's hand pressing your head down into the mattress still, the grip on your hair faltering as she chases the pleasure for you.

“You close?” A nod suffices, well, that's what you think anyway. It's hard to nod with the way your head is positioned, but you make it work. “You gonna cum for mommy?”

Words don't reach you, but instead, your release hits you. It's like a tumble of emotions, like waves crashing against the shore.

“There we go.” Coddling, yet teasing and such. It's like she's caring for you after you'd scraped your knee, or got a papercut and there's tears rolling down your cheeks because of it.

A haze sets over you, one full of mindless words that are never uttered, yet they spin around your head and mush into nothing.

“Baby,” A pause, then the hand once woven into your hair now brushing it aside, making your face clearer. “Are you alright?”

You can't speak, you can't. You're like soup, and she's a fork, trying to pick you up but you only slip through the seams.

But you try, and the only word that leaves your mouth is her name. “Ma-”

A look, and you're able to push yourself up, just so you can fully see your mother. And you do, you see her. “Don't you-”

“No.” Stern, her hand gesturing for you to stop. It's like you've stolen a cookie, or something that you shouldn't have off the top shelf. “Let's get you in the shower, yeah?”

#jill valentine #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #dead dove do not eat #admirxation fic recs

107 notes · View notes

admirxation · 1 day

Text

i went to a catholic school but it was a school that had loads of catholics but were the most misbehaved little shits drinking and having sex all the time lmao. but i went through a different way and honestly the catholic guilt was written so perfectly, as an ex catholic this was written so well 🫶🫶

Heavenly Creatures

Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader

Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.

Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂

Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.

AO3 Link

Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.

Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.

Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.

Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.

One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.

“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”

Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.

“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.

Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.

The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair.

You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.

He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot.

You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”

He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”

“I know.” You grinned.

“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.

You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”

He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.

You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.

“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”

“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.

“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.

“I think you’re nice too.”

And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents.

You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.

━━━━━━━━━━━

A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore.

People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.

Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you.

“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.

Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.

Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked.

Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.

Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.

You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.

As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.

When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.

You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.

All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.

You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.

It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow.

It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.

This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.

At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.

When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.

“What are you playing at?”

“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”

“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”

There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”

You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”

There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”

“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.

“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”

“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively.

His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.

He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”

“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”

Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.

“Um-”

Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.

However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.

“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted.

If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour.

Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.

“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.

“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”

“Catholic guilt?” You teased.

“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.

“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”

You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”

His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”

“Hm?”

“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.

He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”

“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.

Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.

Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”

“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.

He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.

He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.

With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”

Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.

“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.

“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”

Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.

Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.

Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.

Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.

Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”

Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.

Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips.

“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.

You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.

“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.

“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.

And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.

You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?

Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.

Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.

Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”

You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”

He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”

There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.

Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”

“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.

He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.

She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.

When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.

Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.

At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”

Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds.

As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.

“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.

There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.

“Huh?”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.

“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”

You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.

“Feeling good?”

“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”

He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”

You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”

He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.

“What was that again?” He taunted.

You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.

“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.

At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”

With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.

You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.

His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.

It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you.

Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #religious au #church au #resident evil #leon s kennedy #admirxation fic recs

994 notes · View notes

admirxation · 1 day

Text

fem reader, dark-contents, stepdad leon, weird leon, stalker(?)leon, dubcon, somno

do not interact if you are ageless/blank blog or underage — please.

Leon still remembers running his fingers through your hair, dividing the strands into three and braiding each side.

He always did it so calmly, putting on little bows, letting your baby-hair curl over your temple.

And when you went to school, he would kiss you on the forehead and say “Leon will pick you up later, yes?” You always gave him a beautiful smile and he knew he was doing a great job being the father figure you didn't have.

But suddenly everything became hateful, remembering the flower clips in your hair, the baby-pink dresses became his guilt.

You were turning twenty, college seemed to limit your time with your stepfather and magically, Mr. Kennedy didn't see you grow up.

Leon thought he would see his little girl, who used to play with rag dolls and ask for princess tiaras, but no.

You were grown up.

Leon's first reaction was to lose his breath, definitely. He watched the cleavage of your breasts bouncing through the tank top as you opened your arms to hug him. He seemed weak, he softened with longing for your affection, for your breasts pressed against him.

He seemed stuck in the past, disassociating, you were still his lil’girl, yes.

But then, your mother said that your return would be permanent and for a few minutes it seemed like a nightmare. Leon was happy, seriously, he wanted to give you compliments, take care of you like he did in the past, but now it seemed impossible.

He left the room, dizzy, went up the stairs and sat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to control his arousal, the rush he felt when he watched you look at him, your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face.

You looked confused, sad. You wish Leon had reacted better to your return. You went to your parents room, knocked on the door and even though Leon hadn't jerk off, he seemed to react scared.

“Oh, hi sweetie.” He said, his deep voice making you waltz closer to him, your fingers running against Leon's broad shoulders.

“Any problem? Are you ‘kay?" You couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind.

“No, no babe… I'm very happy to have you back, sorry. Maybe I'm a little tired from work.” He says, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, affectionately.

“You scared me” You gave him your puppy-eyes and once again Leon looks confused, he feels his boner throbbing against his pants and it's hard not to notice “I missed you, Leon, I really wanted to see you.” You were so cute, your words were cute, he was your adorable stepfather and nothing more. You stretched out your arms, laid your head against his shoulders and with your hands you hugged the thick, calloused fingers he has, you liked the texture. You placed a kiss on Leon's cheek and looked at him lovingly again.

“I’m going to spend my vacation here, I hope we can enjoy it a lot, daddy.”

Leon sighs and hears you coming down the stairs and shivers. He didn't like the “daddy” coming out of your lips, mocking him.

The days go by and Leon is definitely weird.

He watches you from everywhere, even if unintentionally. He watches you swing your legs when you’re back to the door.

He looks at you through the bathroom’s crack when you take a shower or even pees.

He lurks around your things, curious, even if you show him later.

Somehow, he makes a point of having control over your day, knowing everything about you without you suspecting anything.

You always end the night on the couch, you sleeping on his lap and Leon seems too good to do anything with your asleep-body.

But he still comes into your room when you're not there…

He goes through your stuff, because he knows you won't notice.

Leon smells your clothes, your panties and he doesn't care if they're used or not, damn, he just wants to have you with him. He runs his calloused fingers through the fabric, rubs his dick and jerks off to the delicious smell of your panties. Leon hopes you'll never know how many times he's fucked your pillow or the sheets of your bed. The dry cum you'll never notice.

Leon likes to imagine that instead of your panties, your pussy will be there, probably a tight cunt and he would do anything to breed you, see the cum coming out of you while you look confused.

The sex between him and your mother even seems to have improved, Leon is so passionate about it and now, he doesn't seem to want to hide what he does from you...

No.

Visits to your room become constant... you pretend to sleep and feel his fingers on your cheek, tenderly. Leon always says “I love you, my love, I’m sorry, yes?” He looks guilty, but you don't understand.

You feel him snaking his fingers against your body, you feel sleepy… you like how he rubs himself against you from behind. You know Leon locked the door and he finds you naked from the waist down. Leon groans when even asleep, your body responds, your pussy is so wet that he gets under the covers and fucks you, slowly.

His breath hits your skin, your nipples are hard, you can feel him inside your walls, but you don't react. He whimpers against your ear “Forgive daddy, please— Hmmm, your pussy feels so good, little girl.”

Leon cries as he fucks you and even though he doesn't know you're conscious, you enjoy it so much when your step-father uses you.

You feel his fingers against your belly, Leon's dick is so thick that you can feel it on your stomach. You want to moan, scream, you like how he fills you up so much, how his sweat drips against your skin, your pussy is wet, dripping so much, he wants you to squirt.

You want to ask him to cum inside, but Leon doesn't... Your ass is dirty with cum.

You pretend to sleep, Leon kisses you, fixes his pants and leaves your room quietly.

And the next day… Leon and you act normally.

You hope it happens again.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #admirxation fic recs

289 notes · View notes

admirxation · 1 day

Text

i’ve been meaning to get to this, i’ve had it on my “fanfic to read” in my notes, and ah i’m so glad i managed to get to it cuz it was so good 😭😭🫶🫶

TASTE: a "God's Menu" Story

"don't make me beg, make me beg, i'm addicted to you..."

pairing: chef! leon kennedy x fem! reader

tags: smut. mdni. 18+ content. foodplay (sitophilia), mentions of food, corruption, mentor/mentee relationship, alternate universe, love confessions, spit swallowing, thumb sucking, oral sex, 69 sex position, vague ending

a/n: this story is a testament to kind commenters — you really do make a difference in a writer’s day. this can be seen as a continuation of the first story, but i also think it reads well separately, even if the intro seems a bit rushed. also, both fic titles came from stray kids songs (stray kids everywhere all around the world)!

masterlist • link to ao3 • 3.1k+ words • link to God's Menu • requests are closed || asks are open

you had been working at the esteemed Chef Kennedy’s restaurant for a while now, mostly to make up for your failed classes at culinary school. but in all honesty, the gig wasn’t too bad. The past few months, Chef Kennedy had taken you under his wing and taught you all his tricks in the kitchen. his tutelage had saved you from flunking out of school, and his close proximity wasn’t unwelcome. after all, he was easy on the eyes – ask anyone.

to celebrate the passing of your fall semester, the michelin chef had invited you to a gourmet dinner at the restaurant you had been working at all summer. it was an honor and a great excuse to try the recipes you had perfected cooking in Chef Kennedy’s kitchen. The evening proved to be romantic, though and between the wine, the aphrodisiac foods, and the proximity to Chef Kennedy… well, it was difficult to determine where you, the food, and Chef Kennedy began and ended.

Despite the one-off, inappropriate dinner with your boss, you continued to work with Chef Kennedy — who you knew intimately as Leon (you had screamed it several times that night). You both always remained professional, as you would never want to jeopardize the integrity of the restaurant or Chef Kennedy’s esteemed reputation. The tension was palpable, though and you both wondered what might be next on the menu, so to speak. the stolen glances and the brush of a hand were all carefully crafted appetizers, but when the main course would be delivered…you could not say.

Chef Kennedy had recently returned from a trip to Japan, where he studied under several renowned chefs. He was thrilled to show the kitchen some new knife techniques and even allow people to try a few recipes he had also learned. The kitchen had a renewed sense of energy once more. Admittedly, you had missed his presence in the kitchen while he was away. His second in command was not nearly as charming, but that was likely your own personal bias.

While helping prepare the line, Chef Kennedy approaches you. His demeanor was casual, as if he meant to chat with you like you were an old friend and not an underling. “How is this new semester going? Better than the last… I hope?” he jests. You know it’s wrong to roll your eyes in front of your boss, but you can’t help it. “If you’re asking if I am flunking out this time… no. I have improved so much even my instructors are impressed. Does that satisfy your ego, chef?” you retort, not meaning to come off so harsh towards him. But his ignorance about the evening you had shared together was infuriating… you should’ve seen it coming. Having sex with the flunking culinary school intern and immediately jetting off to Japan to avoid confronting her afterwards? It was a classic move.

he doesn’t respond, merely stalks off to attend to other matters around the kitchen. It seems even your avid bitterness couldn’t keep his attention. you feared nothing would and that you would both remain in this sea of anonymity. you felt like a child feigning for attention - pouting and sulking as you slice the vegetables. He continued to ignore you anyways, busy with catching up on business meetings, and catering tasks. It was only a few more weeks until your graduation, then you could move out of this city and find a job far away from men who treated you as disposable. like damn, he didn’t have to love you, but would it hurt to even text you back?

the days are long but the weeks are short, and now you’re buttoning up your pristine white chef coat for graduation. you place your cords around your shoulders and your medal around your neck. everyone is excitedly chattering as you filter into the auditorium, mostly about where they had taken jobs. that was something you still had yet to figure out. you knew you were ready to get out of here, even the greater metropolitan area had begun to feel too suffocating. But things were still murky with Chef Leon. You had hoped to receive some sort of closure on your last day at work, but all he offered was a crisp handshake.

As you don the tall white hat, signifying your graduation of culinary school, the crowd erupts into loud applause. Amidst the celebration, you search for your family in the crowd. But you’re abruptly interrupted as you bump into the broad-shouldered Chef Kennedy once more. You blink a few times, mouth agape, “s-sir?” you stutter, still a bit caught off guard by his presence. “You didn’t think I’d miss your graduation, did you my sweet apprentice?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you in a small hug and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

you break out into a small sweat, entirely confused by his sudden affection, especially with your family excitedly approaching. His attitude towards youthey wrap you in large hugs and spout a multitude of congratulations. your parents thank Chef Kennedy for his excellent tuitalage and helping his daughter through culinary school. they insist he come to your celebratory dinner now that the ceremony had concluded, but politely declines. “Actually, if your daughter is free tomorrow evening, i’d like to invite her to a private congradulatory dinner at my home. I hope to show her a few of the cooking skills I learned while I was abroad in Japan,” Leon politely explains.

you agree before you really even had time to think about it, and your parents were happy to see that you had made use of the restaurant-industry connection with a michelin star chef. leon cannot hide the small smirk that graces his features as he bids your family a polite goodbye. the rest of your day is a blur. sounds flit between your ears as yoo continue to celebrate. you stretched the limits of your acting as you received beautiful bouquets and generous gifts from your family. your mind was entirely preoccupied by the mysterious dinner invitation from your former boss. what would he say? what would you say?

the night passes by agonizingly slow, so “beauty sleep” is nothing more than a dream. you almost consider cancelling, fearing nothing more than heartbreak will come from the this reconciliation with your former mentor. you were meant to get out of here, start your career somewhere else, but one plea from him could easily change your mind. it was pathetic how much influence he continued to have on you.

but here you are, walking up the steps to his home and ringing his doorbell. you hope you are dressed in an appropriate outfit, unsure what the dress code is for chef kennedy’s private home. he opens the door, donned in a simple white button up shirt with cuffed sleeves and casual slacks. he smiles at you and once again you can feel your insides liquify at the gesture.

he politely takes you on a tour of his modest home, saving the kitchen for last. it certainly was sleek, with brand new appliances and amenities some restaurants probably didn’t have. you wondered if he ever got lonely in a big house like this… if that’s why he spent so many hours surrounded by the staff in his restaurant or on trips to learn from foreign chefs.

your thoughts are interrupted as he politely pulls a chair out for you at the island in his kitchen, gesturing for you to sit. you nod curtly, taking your seat and waiting patiently for what was to come. he leans over the cool granite of the kitchen counter, staring at you intently. “so, i bet you’re wondering why… why i’ve ignored you for so many weeks? why i showed up to your graduation? and why i invited you here now?” he says, raising an eyebrow expectantly. you can only nod, heart still hammering against your sternum.

he nods at your own nod, turning around to present you with a small cake. “i never had anyone come to my culinary graduation. i… was orphaned when i was young, so i guess… i wanted to be there for you. to celebrate your progress and accomplishments,” he says with a soft smile, pushing over a slice of cake towards you. “i— thank you,” you say softly, taking the slice of cake from his hands. you take a bite, stifling the moan bubbling up in your throat from how delectable the treat was. “i suppose i also owe you an explanation for deliberately avoiding you. i presume you won’t let that go with only a slice of cake. am i correct?” he continues.

“yes chef,” you say, almost habitual how easily it rolls of the tongue. he chuckles, a cocky smirk laden on his handsome features once more. in order to compensate for your embarrassment, you shovel more of the delicious cake in your mouth. you can’t say anything embarrassing when chewing a hefty wad of cake! “well allow me to explain myself,” he begins, pacing around the kitchen a bit as his nerves increase.

“i had booked the japan trip well in advance of our romantic rendezvous, so i promise i truly did not mean to abandon you. i know what it looks like,” he frowns, twiddling with his thumbs. it was weird to see him so nervous. he was normally so sure of himself, barking orders like it was second nature. you sigh, gesturing for him to continue on with his speech, but pausing your enormous bites of cake for the time being. now it was his turn to sigh.

“look, i’ve… never been in love before. hell, i don’t even know if i’m in love now. this stuff doesn’t exactly come easily to me and i —“ he shakes his head, eyes darting towards the floor. “i knew after our dinner that i wanted to be more than your mentor and the prospect terrified me, so i fled instead of talking to you,” he admits softly, a pained expression sullying his normally perfect features. this causes you to do a double take, largely taken aback by his confession. the normally stoic chef rendered a bit tongue-tied for one of the first times in his life.

“w-wow,” you manage to breathe out, letting the weight of his confession sit in the air above you both. you open your mouth several times to say something, but you keep coming up short. needless to say, out of every possible idea you had about what would happen tonight… a semi-quasi love confession wasn’t in the cards. “for all the times i begged you to stop talking during our lessons, the one time i actually want you to speak… you’re speechless,” he pouts.

“how would this even work leon? everyone at the restaurant knows you were my superior. i didn’t want to even stay in this town! i was going to move to a big city and chase my culinary dreams,” you say, exasperated. he sighs, reaching across the island table for your hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “i think i may have a solution,” he says, brushing his thumb tantalizingly against your knuckles. you quirk your eyebrow inquisitively, wondering what he could possibly say to fix this.

“while it is true that i was in Japan to learn new food techniques from renowned chefs, i was also discussing business. my friend wishes to open a new exclusive restaurant in Las Vegas and has asked me to join him in the venture. now i’m asking you to accompany me,” he says softly, his gaze never wavering. it was an incredible opportunity, one that very few chefs ever had the chance at. but what if things ended badly between you and leon? he could sabotage your career before it even begins.

“i can see you need a little convincing,” he murmurs, his gaze flitting downward. “it just so happens i prepared a special meal for you. make yourself comfortable in the seating area while i set it up,” he says, his voice a bit more sultry now. you nod, still trying to think through everything he had discussed - the new job offer, the somewhat love confession, the delicious cake. you’re barely halfway through your internal pro’s and con’s list until you hear the chef call out to you from the dining table. nothing could’ve prepared you for the feast laid out before you.

leon was almost entirely nude, wearing nothing but a nude g-string which was enough to elicit a small gasp from you. placed strategically across his body on sanitized leaves was a variety of sushi and sashimi rolls, presumably for you to eat. leon’s face is covered in an embarrassed blush, worried you wouldn’t be into the idea. you swallow thickly, wondering where to devour him first. the pretty yellowfin tuna on his left v-line muscle or perhaps the california roll delicately balanced on his right pec. decisions, decisions. “the practice of nantaimori,” you whisper, enthralled by the edible art piece in front of you. “i truly am spoiled,” you mumble, pressing your lips delicately upon leon’s to soothe his shyness.

he gently returns your kiss, struggling to lie still so the sushi does not fall off of his body. when you pull apart, he gestures to the sake beside the table with a nod of his head. you gently take a few sips. “not keen on sharing, my truffle?” he asks as a pout tugs at his lips, wanting to share in the erotic experience with you. you smile at the cute nickname, “open wide,” you coo, taking a swig of sake. you delicately tip his chin up, holding his mouth open as you spit the sake into his mouth. he swallows it deliberately, pupils dilated wide with lust as he gazes at you. this action alone made his cock strain against the thin triangle of the thong he was wearing.

“well i suppose i should take my seat, hm?” you purr, dragging your thumb across his lower lip. he nods obediently, sucking your thumb into his mouth. his tongue slowly drags across the pad of your thumb, causing a shiver to roll down your spine. you pull it out with a soft, ‘pop’ sound and remove your panties from beneath your dress. you bunch it up enough so that it won’t fall on leon’s face and slowly lower your weight down.

he doesn’t do all that much to begin with, allowing you to eat the sushi — egregiously turned on by your soft moans while you chew. the whole experience was very erotic. he places a gentle kiss here and there, just to remind you of his proximity. when you finish, you give him a polite heads up, letting him know you enjoyed the variety of sushi’s and that he was free to ramp up his teasing a bit more.

he didn’t need to be told twice, tongue threatening to devour you as he licks your drenched cunt. you let out a soft mewl, collapsing forward as the sensation overwhelms you once more. it had been a while since you had slept with anyone, the stress of the end of the semester kept you occupied enough. But even if you had slept with someone else after Leon, it wouldn’t have mattered. no one could unlock your pleasure the way he could. It felt so good, it almost distracted you from the main reason you chose this position in the first place.

sitting only an arm’s length away was the beautiful cake leon had crafted to celebrate your graduation. the frosting was whipped into generous peaks. you swipe your hand over one of the dollops, smearing it on leon’s erection, right across the bulging vein. you could hear him huff against your pussy, doubling his efforts as if it was some sort of competition. your first orgasm coated his chin before you even got one lick in. oh, he would pay for that.

you start with teasing, gentle licks across the head. his salty precum mixing with sweetness of the frosting in a divine combination. you don’t have much patience, especially not with leon’s continuous ministrations on your clit threatening to pull your second orgasm. leon slows at the first touch of your mouth, letting out a soft whine as you gently take the head into your mouth. he digs his grip into your thighs warning you to not tease him for long. you pout for a bit before loosening your jaw and taking more of him inside your mouth.

you’re aptly rewarded with a long groan from leon, hearing his pants fan against your abused cunt as you begin to bob your head at a steady pace. the sounds reverberate along his vaulted ceilings and dining room walls as you both seek to devour the other. it’s as if there is a primal longing so starved for connection that is can only be found in the most intimate crevices of one another. tears leak from the corner of your eyes as his hips cause his cock to hit the back of your throat. leon’s grip on your thighs tremble as he loses himself in the sensation of eating you out.

time feels frozen. immovable in these moments. you are suspended on clouds, lost in a translucent haze between love and lust. until you are quite literally thrust into the present moment. leon’s cum mixing with the frosting and coating your tongue. you swallow most of it, but manage to keep just a bit of the mixture inside as your orgasm runs through you, coating leon.

your legs feel like jelly as the aftershocks still ripple down your spine. you move clumsily back to face leon, sitting on his chest. his eyes are still hazy with lust, but they meet yours slowly. “open wide handsome,” you say, squeezing his cheeks in the palm of your hand. As you tilt his head back and his mouth open, you spit the remainder of his own cum, hint of frosting and your owl drool directly into his mouth. now his mouth was full of your taste and the spit. he sighs softly, entirely enamored by you. he rubs soothing circles on your thighs as you run your fingers through his soft hair. the aftercare is slow and drawn out. you were both too spent to have the conversation of goodbye and every time you tried, tears would well into your eyes. you were grateful his shower covered most of them. leon was perceptive though, holding you close in the shower. “darling please, we… we deserve a real chance,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and rubbing your arms gently. “I know you feel something more than just sexual and we’ve both been… afraid,” he continues. “afraid to admit our relationship breached professional boundaries, so please, take a chance?” he asks as he towels off. you think for a few moments and in classic leon fashion, he adds, “I think you’re the special ingredient my life needed all along.”

#leon s kennedy #alternate universe #leon kennedy #leon x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #admirxation fic recs

198 notes · View notes