JJK men and how rough they are
~ Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Getou, Sukuna
tw: explicit smut, rough sex, biting, slapping, mention of pregnancy but no gender mentioned, multiple orgasms, degrading, slight praising, true form Sukuna, Toji is a DILF, somewhat soft Gojo and Nanami, mean mean mean Getou
For Gojo, it depends on his mood. Sometimes he feels the need to lay back and let you take care of him while other times he walks in the door and pins you down ripping your clothes off and fucking you until the two of you are spent.
When he’s rough with you, he’ll pull many orgasms from you and never fails to leave you a shaking mess. By the third one, you aren’t sure if you’re begging for a break or for him to keep going, either way you love it. He leaves many marks including bite marks, hand prints, bruises, etc. Sometimes he’s even mean enough to tie your hands to the headboard and put his blindfold over your eyes.
He likes to mix degrading words with praise. He’ll say something like “Such a good little slut for me. Taking it just how I want” or “C’mon, baby. Put that filthy mouth to good use.” And damn if it didn’t turn you on more.
He likes any position where he can see your face. He likes to see how good he’s making you feel and it makes his cock twitch more with each furrow of your brow or stray tear down your face. His cock is long, not super girthy but definitely still thick, and it almost doesn’t fit all they way. Almost doesn’t.
Now there are two different modes of roughness he has. Sometimes, if he’s only just a little irritated, he’ll do fast, yet shallow thrusts that make you cum in a matter of minutes and leave you feeling sore the the next few days. However, if he’s had a particularly rough day, be prepared to not be able to walk on your own for the next week.
But don’t worry, once he’s done he’ll run a nice warm bath for the two of you and take care of you. He washes your hair, washes your body, and sometimes even washes off your face if you’re feeling to tired to do so yourself. He’ll ask many times if you’re okay (and when you say yes he gets a little cocky) but the lovesick smile that rests on his face only brings warmth to you.
Even though he enjoys being rough with you, he enjoys being soft and showing how much he loves you.
Now Nanami is very different from Gojo. For him to be rough with you it would mean that he would either have to be really, really pissed off or really really jealous. It was a very rare occurrence for the stoic, composed man to release his anger out on you, even if he was at his breaking point.
But today was just too much for him. Gojo wouldn’t leave him alone, Yuuji kept asking questions that were common sense, and the curses he exercised today were just a nuisance and got in the way of his paperwork. So when you showed up to bring him his forgotten lunch, he bent you over his desk wanting something more than just his usual sandwich.
He’ll mumble about how annoying Gojo is and how all he wanted was to not work overtime as he thrusts three (or four) fingers in and out of you purposefully curling them to precisely hit your spot every time. Once you’ve cum on his fingers, then he will pull his cock out and fuck you roughly, pinning you to the desk.
Even though he’s pissed, he won’t degrade you, unless Gojo becomes a little too flirtatious with you. Then he would use words like slut and whore amongst other things for your ‘inappropriate’ behaviour. He knows you’d never leave him for Gojo or anyone else, but deep down he knows he likes being rough with you at times.
Now if you ask him too, he won’t hesitate to obey. But there are certain things that are off limits to him. Things like sharp object cutting you, slapping you across the face (or too hard in general), choking you till you can’t breathe are all immediate no’s to him. He wants to still make you feel good not feel guilty for hurting you.
His aftercare is out of this world. If you’re at home, he will always run a warm bath and ask if you need any food or drinks. He massages your muscles to help you be less sore the next day and carry you to bed after drying you off and putting some comfy clothes in you. And when you wake up the next morning, he’s already gone for work but you’ll always see some pain killers with a glass of water and a sweet handwritten note from him.
Nanami is a gentleman inside and out and loves you with everything he has. He just hopes someday he’ll put a ring on your finger.
DILF. DILF DILF DILF DILF. This man gives off ‘I fuck my son’s babysitter as a way of payment’ vibes. He likes the younger innocent ones because he’s noticed they usually like it the roughest.
At his age, Toji has had a lot of experience so he definitely knows what he’s doing. He knows just how to angle his hips right to hit your sweet spot that makes you scream his name. He thrusts hard and fast and barely slows down enough to let you recover between orgasms. He loves having you try to squirm away from him just so he can pull you back and smack your ass telling you “Don’t run away from me. Sit still and ducking take it” which is literally one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard.
Speaking of ass, if Toji ain’t an ass man, he ain’t nothing. Any position where he can see your ass is a position he puts you in. His favourite thing is to fuck you in front of a mirror so he can see all the expressions your face makes, especially when you cum. He hold your head up by your hair and makes you stare at yourself while he rails you from behind or sometimes even below you if he put you in reverse cowgirl.
He practically ruined you for any other person. Even if you did sleep with someone else, they wouldn’t be able to make you cum even a quarter as good as Toji can. He prides himself in that and sometimes will even mention it just as your about to cum.
He’s one that’s more on the degrading side but will mix in praise telling you how good you are cumming for him and how well you take him. It’s almost like he can read your mind with how he perfectly matches his words with your thoughts. You think about praise and he praises you. You think about being degraded and he will degrade you. It’s a little creepy how good he is at that but there’s a reason why you keep coming back to him.
If you think he would pull out, you’re wrong. So so very wrong. This man is built to breed and that what he will do to you. You don’t really mind though because he feels too good to make him pull out anyway. And if a single drop even spills out, he’s already pushing it back in and fucking another load into you.
He’s rough in a very DILF kinda way and you absolutely love it. Even if you did get pregnant, it seems like Megumi needs someone to keep him company.
He’s rough but almost in a soft kind of way. Like he’ll give you control of things like how fast you want it and what position you want but if you get too cocky, he’ll pinned you below him and fuck you back into submission.
He loves it when you get an attitude with him. He acts like it doesn’t get to him or that he even notices it but later on when he’s got you tied to the bed with a vibrator between your legs, you knew he was doing it on purpose. He’ll have you there for hours either edging you or pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you without giving you a break. He’ll just sit and listen to you beg and laugh at you for being such a brat earlier.
He doesn’t necessarily degrade you, but the dirty phrases and words that leave his mouth are more than enough to get you off. He knows exactly what to say to pull an orgasm from you. Don’t worry though, his words aren’t always mean or dirty. He always lets you know that you did so good even if all he did was completely ruin you and degrade you the entire time.
Now, if you get too mouthy or misbehave too much, he will fuck you in front of his cult members and the curses that stand by him. This is when he’s roughest with you to show them just how obedient you are for him. He’ll even let Mahito take a turn with you if you’re still too bratty.
He’s definitely one that doesn’t care what position you’re in cause he knows he’ll have you cumming and wanting more no matter what. But his favourite is having you in his lap while he thrusts up into you. It’s a way for him to be close to you yet still far enough away to see your face when you cum for the nth time that night.
For every two orgasms you have, he has one. It’s not ideal for him because he’s super sensitive after cumming, but seeing you be so pliant for him and seeing his cum drip out of you makes him withstand the sensitivity to fill you up even more. And his aftercare is probably the best right under Nanami’s.
He doesn’t necessarily want to get you pregnant and to him cumming inside is just another way of claiming you as his along with the many marks he leaves on your neck.
Rough. Very mean and rough. He is never soft with you not even if he’s in a “good” mood. He really doesn’t know how to be soft but you are okay with it due to how god damn amazing he is.
He has two sets of everything. Eyes, arms, cocks but your favourite thing has to be that he can create mouth on his hands, face, and stomach. He will have you on top, both cocks stuffing you full, with two hands on your hips and the other two leaving scratch marks or gripping some other part of your body while the tongue on his stomach licks between your legs stimulating you further.
Speaking of stimulation, he absolutely loves loves loves to overstimulate you. Like he won’t fuck you until you’ve cum on each hand at least once. And both of his cocks are huge so he needs you to be prepped as much as possible as to not rip you in half (even though his sadistic side tells him to do so).
He only degrades you. Praise is not in this man’s vocabulary so expect to constantly be called filthy names even when you didn’t do anything wrong. To be honest, you were kind of hurt at first by his words but realized that’s just how he is and now you wouldn’t have it any other way.
His favourite position is doggy style. He likes it because he has access to your ass, slapping it almost constantly, and he can push you into a super deep arch or even bring you up against his chest. This man is strong and has stamina so he can go for a while and can easily manhandle you into any position he desires.
His aftercare is very minimal and the most he will do is clean up between your legs. He does ask to make sure you’re okay and that he didn’t seriously hurt you (he’s not entirely evil in that way) but he fucks you till you pass out most of the time so it’s not often you get to see a “softer” side of him.
While he is rough, he still cares about you (even if he sucks at showing it). He wants you to only be his so if he catches you talking to someone else, let’s just say they will never be seen again.
the masseuse | suguru geto x reader
synopsis ↬ geto gives you a little more than what you paid for.
themes ↬ fem! reader, nsfw, 18+, masseuse! geto, virgin! reader, masturbation, foreplay, vaginal fingering, raw sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, breath play, the dragon, creampies, squirting, role-play, cnc, dubcon
word count ↬ 3.7k (unedited, lowercase intended)
a/n ↬ this was supposed to be a thirst, but it turned into a one-shot instead, oops. i’ve been feral for masseuse! geto for a while now, n i just couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so this is the result after me literally thirsting after him all day whilst writing this. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing it; please reblog to boost ♡
likes, reblogs, follows and replies are appreciated ~
it’s after an exhausting week at work when you relent to your colleague’s repeated invitation to an evening at the local spa, begrudgingly agreeing to tag along when you’d much rather head home and dive into the safety of your bed.
you’d given in, mostly to get them to stop asking, and now here you are, bleary eyed and head feeling as if it’s made of lead. you’re so tired that you’re not actually concentrating when you tap your index to the first option on the menu, wanting to get this over and done with in order for you to rush home as quickly as possible.
the receptionist offers what you suppose is an encouraging smile, before asking for your name, date of birth and after a quick glance at your i.d and bank card, she’s tapping away at the computer, prettily decorated acrylics click, clacking away at the keyboard as she books you in for the evening.
‘all of our other masseuses are fully booked until sunday, but luckily for you, geto has had a cancellation, so i’ll book you into his free spot,’ she’s telling you, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.
you offer a polite smile that is twinged with a bout of reluctance.
you hadn’t even looked at the list properly when you’d chosen a service at random, but you suppose that a massage isn’t the worst thing that you could’ve chosen.
and so with an encouraging pat on the shoulder from your colleague who is grinning a little too widely for your liking, you’re scrawling your signature at the bottom of a contract that you barely have the energy to skim read. the receptionist is kind enough to point you down the hallway, and your colleague promises to meet with you later, and so, hoisting your handbag further up your shoulder, you’re following her instructions, newly acquired key in hand.
it doesn’t take long to locate the room that has been designated to you, gaze lingering on the kanji for ‘geto’ that is engraved into the grain of the wood. you hesitate for a moment, loitering by the door before you finally reach to twist the key into the lock with a nervous tremor shaking its way down to the tips of your fingers. upon entering the dimly lit room, you see that a bench has already been prepared, placed directly in the middle of the room.
to the left, a cabinet is pushed against the wall, and upon the surface, there is a tray full of oils and incense sticks that have been placed next to a neatly folded stack of towels that have been arranged by size. next to this, there’s a large lamp that has been placed in the corner of the room, but you see that it is unplugged by the wall, because this geto clearly favours the natural light that is emitted from the array of candles that have been placed around the room, the shadows of their flames dancing a glow up the walls. to the far right, there is a finely decorated partition board that stands towers the opposing corner, and next to it, a very comfortable looking sofa bed that has been folded away so that it is functioning as a seat, rather than a bed. this is where you make a beeline for, careful to not knock the partition board over with your handbag as you do so.
relaxing against the organised mess of cushions, you heave a sigh, eyes darting toward the door as you await the masseuse’s arrival. from somewhere above you, there is the quiet chime of what you suppose is the relaxing sound of a piano, although you aren’t able to determine exactly where the sound is coming from.
perched on the edge of your seat is where geto finds you upon his arrival.
you are just able to make out the sound of his knuckles gently rapping on the wood, and when he pushes the door open to reveal his abnormally large frame, you swallow, hard.
now, you aren’t all that stupid. you’d guessed from the name on the door that he was male. however, you aren’t prepared for him to be so mind-bogglingly attractive. he’s all height and very little else, the short sleeves of his dress shirt stretched wide over the bulging of his biceps. you’ve never particularly favoured men with long hair, but it’s a style that suits him unfairly so, and you have to drag your eyes away from the length of his ponytail when you realise that you’ve looked at him for a second too long.
closing the door behind him, he crosses the room in order to offer you a handshake, which you stand to return with as much gusto as you can physically muster, and he then points to the key that is still grasped tight within the palm of your other hand. you’re already dropping it into his open palm, before returning his greeting with a murmur of your name.
‘i’m geto,’ he grins down at you, all teeth and squinty eyes, before he turns to place the key in the lock and twisting it shut. nerves churn at your stomach when his gaze meets yours, and he asks, ‘first time?’
‘ah,’ you scratch at your cheek with a fingernail. ‘is it that obvious?’
he hums, but doesn’t deign to answer, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. you try your best not to stare as he crouches down to tug open two of the drawers within the large cabinet, tugging free a neatly packaged robe, and a small basket that he then offers to you. you must look a tad bewildered, because he huffs a small chuckle, and you swallow down the low baritone of his voice with an exhale.
‘box is for your clothes,’ he points to the partition board, ‘you can get changed behind there—just step out whenever you’re ready.’
and with a lump that is quickly forming at the back of your throat, you follow his instructions, shuffling your way to the opposite side of the room, your body disappearing behind the board. you gently drape the robe over the edge, box placed on the floor, and then your fingers are working their way through the buttons of your blouse, folding the material before piling it in the box. on the other side, you can hear the soft tinkling of jars of oil clinking together as he moves around the room, before there’s the tell-tale noise of a lighter sparking to life. then, the gentle scent of vanilla and honey is filling the room, and you pause the unbuckling of your belt to inhale deeply before quickly ridding yourself of your shoes, trousers and bra.
they join the pile in the basket, and you are soon clad in just your underwear, and it is then that you pause, before calling out, ‘uh… geto?’
‘hm?’ his voice sounds a tad closer than you’re expecting, and for a reason unknown to yourself, the knowledge makes your tongue fumble in your mouth.
your thumbs trace the hem of your underwear, hesitation lacing your tone as you dare to ask, ‘my—uh… am i supposed to be… um, you know, naked, naked?’ you clear your throat, rushing to clarify, ‘i-i’ve never done this, see, and i—’
the low chuckle that floats through the air has your stomach in knots, and your mouth instinctively snaps shut.
‘yes,’ is his answer, short and laced with something that isn’t quite amusement.
you’re a little bewildered, but you blindly trust his answer, thumbs tugging at the waistband of your underwear until they’re pushed down your thighs and dropping to bunch around your bare ankles. behind you, there’s a loud clang that has you jolting with surprise, and you crane your neck over your shoulder, only to remember that the partition hinders your sight.
his laugh sounds a little strained—with embarrassment, you guess—and you hear him clear his throat, ‘just, uh, dropped a bowl. don’t mind me.’
confusion and doubt bite at your instincts, but whatever exhaustion you once had is now replaced by the urge to get this over and done with, and so, you bend to reach for your underwear, dropping the flimsy material into the basket. you drape the robe over your body, tying the knot a little tighter than necessary, before exhaling a soft sigh and stepping out from behind the partition.
he’s waiting by the bench, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles at you. you can’t help the flip-flopping of your insides when you approach the bench, fingers nervously tugging at the tie around your waist.
he taps at the bench with an index finger, ‘up you get.’
the instruction is simple enough, and you move to sit on the edge of the leather, watching as he holds out a towel for you, arms stretched wide. he pointedly avoids looking in your direction, although a smile still teases at the corner of his mouth.
‘if you could remove your robe, and then just lie down on your front for me?’
anxiety is heating the surface of your skin as your fingers tremble. you shirk your shoulders free from your robe, the silk-like material shimmying to the floor. then, you’re pressing your front to the bench, a freshly washed towel creating a barrier between your skin and the smooth leather. your arms hold under your head, hair pulled away from your neck, and your eyes droop shut as if you can hide from the way that your heart painfully hammers away in your chest.
the towel that he’s holding is gently draped over the centre of your body, just covering the curve of your rear and your lower back. you swallow thickly, listening to him pop open a jar of oil before his footsteps approach you once more.
‘’m gonna start with your feet,’ he mumbles, awaiting your slight nod of approval before his fingers ghost over the edge of your left ankle.
at first, the sensation of his hands working at the balls of your feet feels odd, but when his thumb brushes across the arch of the bottom of your foot, your toes scrunch instinctively.
‘ticklish?’ he sounds like he’s ready to laugh again, but you can only hum in response, distracted by the way he takes his time with massaging the heels of your feet, the pads of his thumbs tracing over your ankles before slowly stroking their way up the length of your left calf.
here, he slowly kneads at the muscle, the glide of his hands aided by the oil that he reapplies before moving further up, tickling over the back of your knee to reach your thigh. this is when you begin to recognise the heat that is slowly forming deep in your abdomen. it swirls around and around with each press of the heel of his palm, and when the tips of his fingers ghost over the inside of your thigh, your teeth clamp over your bottom lip in order to smother the soft moan that threatens to escape. it’s embarrassing just how quickly this affects you, fire licking at the space between your legs, your clit starting to throb with interest when his fingers skim just shy of the hem of the towel that protects your modesty. he lingers there, pressing and kneading the expanse of your thigh with an attention that makes your head spin and your pussy clench around nothing but air.
then, just as a whimper is building at the back of your throat, he’s moving away, and your breath is exhaled from between your nostrils, spine slowly beginning to relax now that he’s moving onto the next leg.
he starts the process all over again, and this time, it’s harder to ignore the ache between your legs, especially when he pinches the soft skin of your inner thigh. you’re unable to hide the surprised gasp that is punched from your lips, and your eyes squeeze shut.
a laugh is huffed from somewhere above you, and you struggle to tame the rapid pounding of your pulse that deafens you as it thunders in your eardrums.
his hands move to your shoulders next, and disappointment twists your stomach into knots. your pussy craves the fingers that are now busy with exploring the length of your spine before working through a particularly sore spot at the base of your neck. his index and middle fingers linger, daring to stroke over the side of your throat. you’re sure that he feels the way that your breath hitches, and your thighs instinctively shift closer together, your clit desperately seeking any form of friction.
it’s not really a word, more so a sound that is hummed from behind you, and his fingers move from your neck to graze down your spine a second time.
it’s the second time that he’s asking, but there’s a weight in his tone that wasn’t there the first time, one that you’re quick to understand the insinuation.
your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you swallow thickly, eyes remaining shut as you murmur, ‘yes.’
any form of embarrassment that was building in the pit of your stomach is quickly diminished when you feel his fingers sneak under the hem of the towel to trace the curve of your behind. your breath catches on another gasp, his knuckles lowering to brush over your inner thigh once again. you’re unable to hide the shiver that dances across your skin, and your muscles clench upon the sound of him chuckling again.
he doesn’t really care for your answer, not that you’re able to think for one, lost to the heat of his palm hovering over the one place that you want him the most. your hole clenches, and as if he’s able to sense it so, he curses under his breath. his fingers ghost down the length of your slit, your sopping folds parting to allow him to caress at the little nub of nerves that haven’t stopped throbbing since he first touched you. you’re leaking a mess all over his fingers that crook to tease a slow circle over your clit. again, your hole clenches, and you muffle a groan into the bend of your inner elbow.
‘lemme hear you,’ he all but demands, his free hand suddenly curling around your throat, easily stretching your neck so that your head lifts from the safety of your forearms. your bottom lip trembles, and you release a soft mewl that has him grinning down at you. ‘good girl.’
the praise has your stomach tensing with a new bout of arousal.
when two fingers breach the tight opening of your hole, there is a slight stretch that is unfamiliar to you. his fingers are much larger than your own, and although aided by the oil that slicks his skin, you’re very much aware of the way that your walls widen to accommodate the size of him.
and it seems that he approves, a low moan shivering its way across your skin when his lips press to the shell of your ear. you answer with a groan of your own, hand coming to clasp at the wrist that holds you in place. despite the slight burn that aches deep inside you, your cunt eagerly sucks his fingers inside, your walls fluttering. your hips shift, rolling against the towel that rubs at your clit. the friction is delicious, and you can’t help but be greedy, seeking more and more, until you’re fucking yourself on his fingers at a steady pace, your breath faltering when his hand tightens around your throat.
‘shit,’ he grunts, dark eyes glued to the place where his fingers repeatedly disappear from view, your slick arousal slowly trickling down the palm of his hand. his cock jumps, straining against the confides of his trousers, and his fingers withdraw from the scorching cavern of your cunny. the sudden loss of his fingers has a strained yelp of shock escaping you, and when you crane your neck to look over your shoulder, you’re greeted with the sight of him tearing at the belt that is locked around his waist. he makes rapid work of kicking his shoes from his feet, trousers soon following, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that he’s bare beneath them.
the sight of his cock has your mouth running dry, and for the umpteenth time today, your hole throbs with unfiltered need.
the fabric of his shirt is dropping to the floor when he catches the way that your eyes greedily soak in every inch of naked flesh that you can see. but you don’t have long to admire the muscles that ripple beneath the surface of his skin, as he’s hoisting himself up and onto the bench, his weight settling in over yours. he presses in above you, the wet tip of his erection trailing over the length of your thigh that instinctively parts for him.
he groans his approval, the bench creaking under the strain of your combined weight. for a brief moment, panic flashes with the fear that the bench will give way, but you’re soon distracted by the heavy weight of him pressing his chest flat to your back, his nose nudging to the curve of your cheek.
his thighs hold yours wide open, and his cock flattens to the curve of your pussy that has swollen with the throbbing arousal that has you keening underneath him when the ridges of his cock slip to drag between your folds, his rounded tip smoothly stroking over your hardened clit.
he grinds into you, hips circling against the plush of your rear, and with little space between the two of you, your spine arches, his hand curling over the width of your throat for the second time this evening. his touch dizzies you, even more so when he angles each thrust to prod at your clit. you’re unable to muffle the moan that is torn from your throat, the sound vibrating underneath the palm of his hand. his other hand comes to entwine his fingers between your own, and in doing so, his hips withdraw enough so that his engorged tip nudges at your opening.
‘think you can take me, pretty?’
you express your agreement with a soft cry, and your thighs spread wide enough that you feel your muscles aching.
‘please,’ you murmur. ‘want you… want you to be my first.’
his breath falters and he chokes on a hoarse laugh that vibrates across your back. ‘fuck, okay.’
the way that his cock bullies its way past your tight opening is anything but sweet. nor is the immediate rough drive of his hips as he spears you on his length. the burning stretch of him makes you squeak, and you can do nothing but cling to the edge of the bench as he fucks into you at a pace that quickly has you panting. the hand at your throat makes breathing a little difficult, and it isn’t long before you’re seeing stars, choking on air when his hand suddenly drops from your throat to shimmy under your chest to pinch at a nipple.
‘sure you’ve ain’t done this b’fore?’ he groans, nosing at your pulse, the flat of his tongue pressing to your skin to taste the perspiration that is quickly forming on your skin.
your dribbling walls clamp onto him as you wheeze on a moan, pussy quickly adjusting to the way his girth cruelly fucks you open. he murmurs your name into the space behind your ear, and you squeeze your fingers around his, clinging on for dear life when his cock abruptly tugs free from your cunt, only to snap back forward to claim home inside your gummy walls once more. he repeats this action until you’re sobbing his name between broken, uneven moans, your pussy gushing its release all over him in a spray that soaks his groin and messily splashes down his balls with each thrust that prolongs the aftershocks of your orgasm. the squelching of his cock drilling into you has you trembling with embarrassment, but your spasming walls have him stuttering something incoherent under his breath, his teeth nipping at your throat as he chases his own climax.
he doesn’t last much longer, and he’s growling the syllables of your name around a chest heaving howl that you respond to with a wail of your own.
his prick jerks and twitches, his cum scorching hot as it fills you to the brim, excesses of the thick, ropey substance leaking out of your pussy, despite the fact that his cock is still plugged deep inside you.
it takes a long time for the both of you to catch your breaths, and it is only when your vision no longer swims that you feel him pressing a kiss to your jaw, the loose strands of his hair tickling at your skin.
‘swear you’re the prettiest virgin that i’ve ever fucked.’
with this, the illusion shatters, and you snort an unattractive laugh that has your chest rising and falling in a way that makes your shoulders vibrate. you slap at his forearm, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth when he lifts your hand to fondly brush a kiss to your knuckles.
‘how was it?’ he asks, and you crane your neck to peer at the smile that traces his lips. ‘think it was spicy enough for ya?’
your eyes roll, hips wiggling when his cock twitches inside you once more. another spurt of seed dribbles free, and you grimace when it mingles with your folds. you’re sure that the two of you have a lot of cleaning up to do, but for now, you’re content with the weight of him pressing you into the leather of the bench, languidly stretching your arms as a yawn stretches your jaw enough so that it clicks. geto mimics you, yawning just as widely as you, his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. he nuzzles into the crook where your shoulder meets your neck, and just as you’re starting to doze, his breath fans over your skin as he asks:
‘think you could massage me next time? my back’s killin’ me.’
tag list ↬ ♡ @anahryal ♡ @ariesfairyotw ♡ @bertholdts--butt ♡ @eiflawriting ♡ @getoswhore ♡ @lawscorazon ♡ @oikawascutie ♡ @playgrl0 ♡ @pussydrunkfyodor ♡ @sckerman ♡ @snake-titan ♡
© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.