#no shade i was just a little like “’HUH’
Text
A lick and a promise
Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.
god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES
Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.
Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)
NSFW
Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)
7k words, NOT PROOFREAD
The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.
You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.
If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.
A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.
Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you.
“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.
“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.”
“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.
“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-”
“C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun.
“The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.
And yet he doesn’t kill you.
He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.
“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”
“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.
“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead.
After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.
-
The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.
After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.
If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.
’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’
But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.
There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb.
Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived.
As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.
Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on.
Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.
It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up.
As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.
A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.
No fucking way.
Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”
“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”
“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?”
“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?”
“Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages.
You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear.
This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy.
Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)
Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.
This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him.
Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-
Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.
You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny.
“Y’alright down there?” He asks.
“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”
Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array.
“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.”
Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing?
Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore.
“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”
You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.
“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!”
You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life.
“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”
Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.
“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.”
You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.
“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.”
Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?
He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack.
It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.
“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”
“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”
“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.”
A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…
“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”
Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”
Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him.
He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created.
-
It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.
In a tiny two person at most ship.
You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.
After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.
“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.”
You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.
It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.
You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.
He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.
Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to.
You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it.
And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.
“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.
For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.
-
He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.
Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in.
“Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day.
He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.
“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips.
There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage.
“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.
“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”
This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.
You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive?
But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.
Something about it made you want to try.
-
It’s five years until you see Boothill again.
Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy.
Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.
Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you.
It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired.
You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.
“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.”
The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.
“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.
Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”
The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”
“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door.
“Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.
“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.
“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”
“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.
The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about.
It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated.
More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.
“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles.
Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…
Warm.
“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so.
Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.
“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”
His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.
“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”
A realisation settles across your mind.
“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?”
He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.
“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”
“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.
“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”
“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.
“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”
You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.
“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing.
“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.
“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”
A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.
You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly.
Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.
His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.
“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”
“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”
“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.
“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles.
You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.
“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”
“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”
His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.”
Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.
“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him.
You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch.
“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens.
If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.
He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…
His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him.
His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it.
(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.)
You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.
Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play.
Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots.
Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now.
A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you.
“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…”
“Tease.” you huff.
“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.
You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear.
He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.
Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand.
“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”
“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.
“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.”
His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.
But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter.
“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.
Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..
“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.”
His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.
After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.
Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.
(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates)
As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.
But you weren’t.
“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.
“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.
“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass.
“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub.
You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.
You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.
At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.
The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.
You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.
–
A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.
“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”
You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard.
In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you.
When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you.
You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.
–
“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.
He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful.
But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.
“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.
“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.
“Will you…at least come and visit me?”
Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”
“How often?”
“S’often as I forkin can.”
You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.
“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”
“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”
You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.
Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.
“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.
“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y
Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~
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Heyo 🌟 congratulations on your milestone! 🐳 done!
I am hereby applying with Osamu, I am organised and driven 🫡
heya!! thank you 🍓 much! you are hired for our shared love of a café setting<3
Cookies and cream
Osamu is a customer and orders something just to talk to you, for the now hiring! event
word count; 884 – f!reader
A new café recently opened across the street, and Osamu shamelessly spent at least 15 minutes of each day standing close to the windows of Onigiri Miya to observe. You had a consistent flow of customers and seemed to have more busy hours than he had. He was very interested in your menu, the design of the café, the workers… maybe just one worker in particular, the one who smiled so nicely that he imagined you were the reason so many people kept coming back to order from you. He hadn’t heard your voice yet, but he definitely imagined it, telling your customers to never go buy from Onigiri Miya and hypnotising them with your charm.
Atsumu could not understand why his brother had developed such an obsession with a simple café when his own business was showing better results every month and your businesses were so different that it didn’t have to be a competition. Competitiveness was nothing new, but this wasn’t the first time a new shop of any sort opened close by. It’s Japan; there were several places to order food or coffee on every street.
He couldn’t understand it until he visited to see what it was all about, and he caught his brother only staring over there while you were visible at the register or out in the café clearing tables. Is he witnessing a one-sided enemies to lovers or is his brother just in denial of his attraction to you?
“So ya got the hots for the café owner, huh?” he teased, bumping his elbow into Osamu as he came to stand beside him. Osamu frowned.
“How do ya know she’s the owner?” he asked, looking back over to where you held a tray of empty cups while chatting with two students who had been there for a few hours.
“Went there to scope the competition before I came here,“ he answered proudly. “Had a bangin’ iced coffee. Cookies and cream and I swear she put extra cookie crumbles-” Part of Osamu was grateful that his brother got invested in his battles, but the bigger part was annoyed that he had yet to taste anything you made.
Atsumu just needed to get Osamu a little jealous and he’d walk right into his trap.
On his break, while the new hire did their first cover alone, Osamu had no choice but to stroll across the street and confidently enter your café. The comforting smell immediately hit him, and it was only enhanced by the warmth of the lighting and the nice temperature. His eyes scanned over the café tables while he slowly made his way towards the register. And as he got there, he finally looked forward. Any threatening introduction he might have prepared was ruined when you smiled at him.
You leaned your hands on the counter on each side of the register, leaning closer to him curiously. “Hey, weren’t you blonde earlier?”
You were mostly teasing because even though you thought he looked very similar, you knew they must be two different people. This one piqued your attention differently, and the one that had been staring at you through the window was not blonde.
“Don’t insult me, that was my brother. I’m Miya Osamu,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand for a handshake. “I own Onigiri Miya across the street.”
Maybe it was the way his arms bulged under his t-shirt. Or the way his brown hair complemented his eyes and made them warmer like you should have picked that shade of brown for the accent wall instead. Or the way he had slight dips into the fat of his stomach where the apron was tied. He was just so insanely attractive to you.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve been dying to try your food,” you said, smiling and shaking his hand while you told him your name. “Did you want to order something?”
Osamu had intended on being quite cold towards you, show you who’s boss…
“My brother recommended something with cookies and cream?” he instead requested politely with a little smile, hoping you might put even more cookie crumbs on his.
“I’m glad it left a good impression.”
He knew he should get back to put out the fires his new hire might have caused, so after sticking around and talking to (flirting with) you for a while, he sighed and pushed his hip off the counter he leaned against.
“Why don’t you come over some time, I’ll make sure you get our best,” he said, picking a slightly bent business card out of the pocket of his apron and handing it to you. He might have scribbled his personal number on the back ahead of time.
His stomach did flips as he watched your cheeks turn rosy when you took the piece of paper. “Doesn’t every customer get your best?”
“The special ones get a little extra love,” he answered, pulse quickening at his own forwardness. Now that he felt more comfortable, his smile was even wider and it felt like your legs turned to jelly.
“I’ll see if I can bless you with my time,” you joked, a soft chuckle escaping with it because obviously, you would be hitting him up on that offer.
“And I’ll look forward to it.”
masterlist
#now hiring! event#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu fluff#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu#osamu#osamu miya#osamu x reader#atsumu miya#miya atsumu
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𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 || 𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢 || 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 (𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐧)
the dusty blond merman in your rickety old boat chuckles shrilly as you glare at him while struggling to row the damn thing, the tip of his tail occasionally dipping itself into the water to splash you. “shishishi, guess you’re all talk and no bite, huh?” he starts as you spit out the water that got into your mouth and groan. “shut up,” you responded before stopping. “this is the place you told me about. what’s going on?”
“look below the boat,” he starts as you nod, peering over the edge to see the water turn a bright shade of blue. “it’s called the glowing gems. we eat it, once in a bit, because they’re not really meant to be eaten, but humans shouldn’t touch it.” you hum at the word of caution appreciatively, tucking your hands into the boat. “there are some kinds of peeps who eat it, some who don’t. i used to eat it when i was little and there were the hard days.”
“can’t believe human systems of the rich trampling the poor made it all the way down there,” you chuckle sadly as you look at the blond merman from the periphery of your eye. “well,” he responds as nonchalantly as he can, “a lot of peeps said we were their descendants, of this one ancient city that collapsed or something. i dunno, though. that theory’s popular up in the capitol, where they’ve got the time and the money to invest into this nonsense.”
“you don’t live in the capitol? then where do you live?” you asked, eyes wide. “me? i live in this cave system a bit outside. don’t tell me you’re worried for little old me,” the blond merman adds and smirks, pointy teeth glistening under the moonlight, his hair more silver than gold afloat on the boat. “you ‘ve got your own problems, don’t you?”
“doesn’t mean i can’t feel sorry for the pain you’re going through,” you murmur as you reach out to him slowly, pausing halfway for his approval. with a flushed face and a slight harrumph, the merman lets you indulge your curiosity with his face and his hair, stroking his face gently before moving towards his hair. there’s little need for any words at this point- the merman’s trust is not easily given, you feel, and you want to receive as much of it as you can. even though you know he’ll probably never come back to the surface world.
behind you, the skies turn a muted orange, and the first signs of life on land begin to appear, with the cawing of the crows and the sea birds, and of the weary fisherman who have to make their way to the ocean for another day’s worth of work. the merman pulls away from your touch, and for a second, you feel rejected, before closing your eyes. “we have no more time,” he murmurs, caressing your cheeks like you did before throwing his tail overboard into the water.
“i’ll see you soon, pretty. and before you give me a name of your own, though i’d like that, to be honest- the name’s ruggie. ruggie bucchi. don’t you forget that, hmm?” kissing you on the cheek, he tips the boat just enough to fall into the water, and as the sun finally comes up, there’s no evidence of ruggie bucchi ever existing. But his hands are warm on your face, and so is the lilting kiss on your cheek.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#ruggie bucchi#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie x reader#twst ruggie#ruggie twst#ruggie x mc#ruggie x yuu#♜ 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘺 2024
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i didn’t even know 13 year olds still used tumblr until one just reblogged my post
#i infact did have a tumblr blog back in middle school#no shade i was just a little like “’HUH’#this is how yall find out i lurk rbs#usually just people i haven’t seen before#i know my regulars lol#doormat rambles
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miscellany (again),, tags in the last image by @pyrotechnicarus
#adamandi#vincent aurelius lin#quincy cynthius martin#ambrose wellington bassford#portia elizabeth harper#beatrix valeria campbell#bit of nonsense bit of sillies (ohhh she thinks she's so funny huh.. anyways the brainrot. out out out)#please don't ask me about them take them at face value laugh and move on or smth i keep worrying i've read them Wrong#these have been living in my head rent free for a week and i'm now evicting them politely#anyway i drew all these as scribbles in my sketchbook in-between exam week and today i wanted them out of my head. so digital it is#i've spent two hours on this haha as a. would you even guess. a break from the beatrix thingy i've been planning because that one's rendery#quiet little notes on this... um.. i have started drawing quincy (idk how!!!)#yknow after the last ambrose literal study. i'm kind of mad about the fact that doing an unintentional study Worked???#like. he's the ONE character i have a grasp of how to draw. everyone else is 'randomly whack until you get the vibes and vague structural#integrity'. can we talk about shape language real quick though because ambrose is oval beatrix is circle quincy is rectangle#vincent is square and portia is triangle. that's how it is in my head.#texture wise. vincent is charcoal and graphite. ambrose is traditional painting blended. beatrix is crosshatching and ink.#quincy is like... marker? and watercolour. portia is digital and cell shading. i can't explain any of the correlations they just Are#for the. oddly detailed quincent i Wasn't intending to draw i had to pull up the musical and re-reference them. could draw one then not the#other?? so i struggled with quincy until i Got them and then i couldn't for the life of me get vincent right.... is it something about like#drawing one character at a time? like there's only room in my mind to understand one set of proportions at any given moment???#a fun little fact was just that i began photo refs as always from hahnji jang's page (which has been? saved in my search autofill now??) an#i didn't even have to get a specific image of quincy being in angst. but for smiling vincent i had to purposefully find oh ms reporter#well! consider this yet another part in the trying to figure out how everyone looks like/vibes as/gets drawn as Characters#a secret little code i keep for the stuff i make now is that i need to have something about the drawn medium that makes it unique to itself#as like opposed to a gif or screenshot or photoedit. it has to have extra meaning. and this appears two ways: one is through Implications i#the more Finished stuff. (aka poster series?) and the other one is by engaging in Ideas (generally posts. or memes/incorrect quotes/etc.)#had a really really interesting convo with a friend irl about fanart and fandoms. they were really active for genshin and stuff and so the#experiences between large and small fandoms were fascinating to compare.. i think i prefer the .. intimacy(?) of just doing what i obsess#over instead of looking for the statistics and clout and notes now. the art i make feels more meaningful and intentional that way.
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Because someone got huffy with me when I said the actual creators SAID that Knives is IN LOVE with Vash
There you go. Behold, my shitty tabs maintenance system and bookmarks, and a screenshot of the character bio page on the official Trigun Stampede website.
I'm not even a Plantcest shipper. It gives me the fuckin' creeps. But then it's not meant to be wholesome and UwU so sweet and sexy, it's supposed to be HORRIFYING. Don't know why I got someone giving me an attitude when I was just the messenger, but here you go.
#trigun#trigun stampede#millions knives#vash the stampede#actual canon background lore#I didn't make this shit up and I was pretty shocked that it was made canon but I get the literary reasoning behind it so S H R U G#Boy the people who ship the twins sure were given a meal on a silver platter huh?#To be clear I'm not throwing shade against the shippers or anything#your ship is not my ship and that's ok#I just don't like it in the least and I'm also a little boggled by someone copping an attitude at me like I was making this shit up
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me when im self indulgent once again
#tulip draws#starbard#nameless bard x oc#dont look too hard i felt too lazy to properly color it in#and too lazy to also shade it wkjfjs#anyway.#new yume huh#...yeah 🧎#giggling at starbard tho??#came up with it on the spot and ive been told it sounds like a biscuit brand#and then another one tells me it sounds like starburst the candy and now im extra giggly over it#so silly#i think bard would be a little shit and encourage you to get distracted or give in to temptations#thats essentially what this is about actually JSJXJ#something caught tala's eye and bard knowing her well enough immediately goes#“you know you want it~ buy yourself the thing you deserve it <3”#asshole i am trying to save my money!!!#(hes very convincing and persuasive but even if he wasn't she easily gives in anyway)#he just has that kind of chaotic vibes i think#everything i think and say about bard is based off of vibes atp#on my knees mhy throw me some crumbs to live off of for a while
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the thing about me is i am obsessed with oumatsu i just don't talk about it because it's embarrassing how obsessed with them i am
#sully is typing#ndrv3#oumatsu#oumaede#no shade to saihara i love saihara i think he's wonderful#but we were seriously robbed of the akamatsu & ouma dynamic it's tragic really......#if v3 so good WHERE'S AKAMATSU HUH??? yall thought you could get away w giving us a female protag and then fridging her immediately????#ahem. anyway#please watch their ch1 heart events they're so good and interesting i'm only a little insane about them at any given point in time#or not heart events. whatever the bonding cutscenes are called in dr i forget.#drv3 spoilers#ndrv3 spoilers#saioumatsu ALSO fucking rules but i just feel like yall sleeping on the oumatsu part..... that s my hottest dr take aren't you impressed#yeah yeah sorry for talking about danganronpa (lying)
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Sometimes i forget how gracious i am to adaptations as long as they're being done by the creator 😅
My reaction towards PJOTV (created by Rick Riordan, the og author) and Ahsoka (created by Dave Filoni, co creator of Ahsoka Tano): "Interesting choice, let's see where this goes."
My reaction towards MCU Young Avengers (done by Disney and Kevin Feige): "KEEP MY CHILDREN'S NAMES OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MOUTH."
#no shade to less happy fans tho#I'm just seeing a lot of criticism that's just making me think#''huh i don't think that really bothers me''#honestly what REALLY fucks me over about both the adaptations that i like#is that THEY'RE TOO FUCKING SHORT#WE'RE GOING TOO FAST WITH BOTH OF THESE#i will say tho#At least this time the criticism I'm seeing makes sense if a little harsh#whereas with Ahsoka it was hard to find a criticism that didn't rely on ignoring 90% of past events or randomly making shit up#percy jackson and the olympians#star wars ahsoka#mcu young avengers#young avengers#ahsoka tano
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I think Malenia's grab throw and impale you attack is cool but waterfowl still feels goofy to me idk
#like it's cool but it's also goofy looking. For a souls game. To me.#like there's been progressively more and more of what you could call 'anime shit'#and weapon arts in elden ring get pretty fancy#so it's definitely not out of place in elden ring. it's just. Okay we're doing this huh#not really a souls game lol#just thinking about Malenia again and why she doesn't hit for me despite having all the elements#I think if she were mentioned less in game perhaps. And if she were somewhere more surprising#she's just kind of there right where she's expected#I guess if you don't know beforehand and didn't explore the shaded castle the whole missing limbs thing is a surprise#sitting there waiting and rotting and dreaming about rotting and covering the land in rot#can she truly believe in and be loyal to her dear brother dreaming of such things?#this is not what the future was supposed to hold#also if I didn't hate open world gaems#by the time I get to Malenia it's like. Okay.#I barely had the motivation to get through the haligtree and Loretta 2#perhaps someday. Goodness knows I don't like the painted world even a little bit#and I still beat Friede and find her easy now
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe.
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights.
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist.
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach.
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
Masterlist
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami smut#.things i write#sorry if you're seeing this again#i had to repost#anime smut#jjk drabbles#jjk fic
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AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.
Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 8.1k
A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-
The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father.
Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.
And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.
Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-
“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”
You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close?
You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was.
Oh.
At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”
You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”
“Oh? Here with anyone?”
“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”
You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you.
“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”
“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.
He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.
Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.
“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you.
“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”
You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.
“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting.
And oh was it interesting.
Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.
Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion.
All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.
So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second.
“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.
You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”
“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”
“Satoru.”
“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”
Ah, there it was.
It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?
“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”
“Hey!”
Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?
Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought.
It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were.
“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh.
After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.
Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-
Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often.
“Ah! Wha- Sato-”
You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart.
Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards.
Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-
“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach.
“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.
Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”
And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son.
You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”
He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”
“Why? Jealous?”
“Yes.”
You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”
“Fucking yes.” There it was again.
But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”
“What do you-”
“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined.
Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”
A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”
And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop.
Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.
His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not.
Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner.
Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.
“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-
“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”
Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.
You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again.
But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you.
Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom.
“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat.
Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting.
You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?
Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.
It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”
Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have.
As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?
Turning to the mirror and-
Oh. Shit.
You better have brought your make-up remover.
God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.
Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.
With a groan, he leans against the shut door. Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?
Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily.
Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?
Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously.
Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins.
“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.”
And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”
Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing.
But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way.
“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”
He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.
What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.
“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest.
Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-
And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.”
Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb.
“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.”
God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him.
Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full.
So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.
And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that.
“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”
“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”
And then he’s cumming.
A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-
You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-
You, at the arm of his father.
Shit, he needs to shower. Again.
---
Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed.
At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father.
But that was exactly the problem.
Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out.
And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself.
But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.
Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right?
You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?
But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.
“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”
That wasn’t your sugar daddy.
Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice.
Success.
“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.
“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”
Oh.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?
You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”
It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”
“Aww, must be some important business.”
He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”
“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”
And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.
The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you.
Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck.
All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips.
“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”
“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth.
Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission.
Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”
And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find.
“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”
Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight.
Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away.
Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”
Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy. Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet.
“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.” he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting.
“You were the one that-”
And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds.
And then it was like something snapped.
Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams.
“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”
But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.
And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”
“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-
“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue.
“W-what?”
“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”
You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”
And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before.
Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him.
Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it.
“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls.
Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-
“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face.
“Mhm?”
“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”
He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”
And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him.
And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high.
Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do.
Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip!
And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one.
Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you.
“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”
And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.
Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed.
“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.
“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”
You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin.
Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.
“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.”
Shit had you said that out loud?
Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you.
Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs.
And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh.
“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”
“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need.
You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”
“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”
“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”
He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.
“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”
“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now.
Of course, you were not one to be out-done.
Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-
“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”
“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle.
“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth.
“I’d make you cum harder.”
Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet.
“So, better than him or not?”
But shit was it hard.
Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”
And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards.
“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”
With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips.
You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-
“Who’s got you feeling this way?”
“You, Toru.”
And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.
But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch.
“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in.
“No.”
“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”
“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.”
One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing.
And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all.
“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”
And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?
“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.
And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”
His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”
You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”
“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”
And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you.
“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”
You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life.
“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”
You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”
“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”
Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high.
Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you.
And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough.
Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams.
Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven.
That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”
A/N. How we feeling???
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours
synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too
word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)
contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3
notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am
satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.
how? you, of course.
“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.
“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.
“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”
suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.
“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.
“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”
“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.
and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.
“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”
“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.
but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.
satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.
“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.
suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”
“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”
“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”
“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”
“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”
“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.
“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”
“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”
“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.
it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.
you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.
“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”
“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”
“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”
“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”
you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.
“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.
you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.
“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”
“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”
“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”
“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”
“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”
“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.
“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”
“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”
satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.
your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.
satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.
“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”
“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”
“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.
if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.
right now, that’s satoru.
“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”
“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.
“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.
your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.
“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”
he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.
“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.
and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.
by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.
“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.
it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?
“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.
“yeah? heavier than suguru?”
“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.
“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”
“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”
idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally
NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that
#teepods.writings#thirstee!#fics.#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#geto x reader#geto x you#geto smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Rockabye Baby
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected
Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶
You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.
“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”
You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”
Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”
“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”
A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”
Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”
“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”
You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”
He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”
You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.
A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.
“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”
You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”
“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”
You blink at him. “A … rock?”
“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”
A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”
“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”
“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”
“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”
Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”
You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”
Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.
“What the bloody hell is that thing?”
“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”
“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”
You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”
From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.
“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”
“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”
Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.
“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”
Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”
The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.
It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.
“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.
He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.
Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.
“Mmm, what was that for?”
“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”
A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”
“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”
Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”
He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:
Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.
Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.
***
Five Years Later
You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.
“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”
You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.
A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.
“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”
“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”
He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”
“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”
Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”
“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”
For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.
“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”
It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.
“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”
Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”
But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”
Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.
“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”
You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”
“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”
Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.
“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”
Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.
You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”
Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?
But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”
Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.
“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”
Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.
“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”
You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.
Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.
“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”
You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.
Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.
Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.
“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”
***
r/offmychest
u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h
My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!
Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).
I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.
At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.
It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”
Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?
And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!
My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?
I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!
At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.
Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?
Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?
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u/NosyAndProud · 8h
LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?
My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h
I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.
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u/JudgingLoudly · 7h
This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️
But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h
Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?
And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.
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u/LiveForDrama · 4h
Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”
And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h
You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.
Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.
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u/GlassHalfFull · 2h
Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.
Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h
Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.
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୧ ‧₊˚ I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE ! *¨¨*:·.♡.·:*¨¨*
﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma, fukuzawa, oda x fem!reader ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), breeding kink, dazai is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, squirting, mentions of pregnancy & babies, petnames, degradation, overstimulation, hairpulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't be dumb like them), tit slapping, belly bulge etc ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : baby makin' ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : here it is, baby making with bsd men as it was highly requested. you guys can read bsd men as dads here ♡ happy reading & I hope you guys like it :3
୨✩୧ DAZAI
You had the amazing idea of messing with Dazai, getting your karma because he messes with you all the time. Flirting with that cute waitress from the cafe, 'accidentally' eating your snacks...yeah you had enough. You remembered Chuuya, his oh so beloved rival and came up with the perfect plan. Atleast you thought it was perfect.
Your eyes rolled back into your skull from the mind numbing sensation of your husband's cock stirring your insides deep. Your legs were propped up on his shoulders, ass smacking against his hips with each mean thrust into your velvety, welcoming walls. His jaw slacked to let out moans everytime you clenched around him so good, pussy clinging onto his rigid cock like a fucking vice. "haah─ feels good doesn't it, 'donna?" He grinned mischeviously, rolling his hips in a way that makes you see stars. "yeah? feels good getting pounded like a little slut? yeaah" he drawled, smirking at the way your eyes cross. One of his bandaged hands reached down to squeeze your tits, rolling a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger as you jot and whine from the stimulation. "you wanted this, didn't you?" He growled, slapping your supple and soft tit then kneading it in his large hand. "is that why you were─ haah─ shoving your fuckin' tits all up in Chuuya's face?" You couldn't even think properly anymore, the only coherent thing you could say was your lover's name, chanting it like a mantra as he fucked your brains out. "should I just make you a mommy then? huh? Fill you up with so much cum that it leaks out?" His hand came down on your tits again, and it fucking stung but felt so good at the same time. "pleasepleasepleaseplease─ fuck! 'samu" you choked out, desperate to cum and relieve the tension in your tummy. "yeah? you want my cum? you want me to cum and fill up your pretty lil' pussy?" You could only nod, tears stinging your pretty eyes as you cum hard on his cock. After a few minutes, Dazai reaches his peak aswell, cumming in ropes with a loud groan. You could feel his warmth in your tummy, leaking out of your battered cunt when he pulls out.
୨✩୧ CHUUYA
"You think we would make good parents?" Chuuya asked you one day, chin resting on his palm as he flips through a magazine for baby stuff. You turned around to face him, eyebrows raised in shock because you two never had this conversation before. Now that he mentions it, you remember thinking a while ago how you and your lover would be as parents. You take a seat next to him, lips curved into a smile, "yes."
And that's how you ended up in chuuya's bed in a full mating press with him pressing all of his body weight on you, holding you down to fuck you nice and deep like you deserve. The once pristine sheets now stained and soiled with a mixture of your and chuuya's cum and other fluids, turning the silken sheets into a darker shade than it was previously. He had cum so many times before this already, but he just couldn't stop. He needed to feel you clenching on him even more, needed to hear you scream and moan his name when he kissed and bit your shoulders and chest, leaving his mark on you. He was desperate to feel your nails racking down his back while he fucked into you, thick cock hitting all your sweet spots. The pain and pleasure made his mind hazy, eyes flicking down to watch as a creamy white ring formed around the base of his cock from how long you two have been at this. He wasn't gonna stop until he was absolutely sure he had fucked a baby into you. "ya seein' t-this, doll?" He moved his hand from the back of your thigh to your lower tummy, pressing down on the slight bulge there as you squeal. You didn't know if you could handle not passing out from the pleasurely pain before he was done with you.
୨✩୧ FYODOR
You absolutely adored Fyodor, your dear husband. He would treat you so gently like you're made out of porcelain, holding your cheek in his cold palm, rubbing the warm flesh gently as he mutters soft words of affection to you. That's exactly how he approached you when proposing to you that he wanted you to bear his children. You, his sweet little housewife, just how could you refuse him when he asks so sweetly? Deep voice smooth like honey as he told you how wonderful of a mother would be.
Just like he knew how to cherish you like the finest treasure in the world, he also knew exactly how to break you down into a sobbing, shuddering mess beneath him. He'd mutter the filthiest, most sinful words against your neck while thrusting into you, both of you a sweaty mess. The room smelled like sex from how long he'd been plowing into your sloppy cunt, absolutely drenching his thighs and cock in your arousal. He nipped and sucked little marks into your collarbones and neck, red and blue bruises blooming on the sensitive flesh as you screamed his name in pleasure. "oh, myshka, you feel just wonderful around me," fyodor grunted, hips smacking against yours in perfect precision. You could only babble dumbly in response, cockdrunk from how long he'd been at this. He was dead set on getting you pregnant. He imagined you, his darling wife's tummy full with his babies, tits swollen and heavy with milk and fuck. Just imagining that made him pound into you faster, harder as he desperately chased his sweet release. His hand reached down to thumb at your pretty clit, rubbing fast and tight circles on the little nub as the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your cunt gushed all over him, making him finally reach his own release with a low groan as he held you close.
୨✩୧ SIGMA
You've been hinting at your lover that you finally wanted to try for children. But alas, he was just a little too oblivious to your hints. It was getting annoying at this point, he would just blush and stammer at your bold moves, looking away when you give him a playful but flirty smile. Hell, you even gave him some baby clothes to make it obvious but he just thought you bought that for him and just got a very wrong size. That was your last straw. You had to take matters into your own hands.
He came home late that night, it was a busy at the casino. He thought you'd be asleep already, tucked away into the comfort of your shared bed. Oh, how wrong he was. He walked into the living room, sighing as he took off the outer layer of his clothes. He was about to place it on the coat hanger when his greyish eyes landed on you, who was dressed in the prettiest white lingerie he'd ever seen. Good God, you looked like an angel. The faint glow of the candle light highlighted your features, making you look borderline otherwordly. He could hear his own heartbeat, his face and ears getting hot as you slowly stalked closer to him. Now standing infront him with a soft smile gracing your glossy lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He flinched from the contact of your bare skin against his own. "w-what's this about?" He gulped. You chuckled, getting on your tippy toes to mutter close to his ear, "I want you, Sigma. I want you to fuck me. I want your babies." He shivered when you playfully bit the shell of his ear, finally gaining the courage to touch you as he gripped your hips tightly.
Now here you were, bouncing on sigma's lap while he sucked on your perky tits. His slim fingers digging into your hips while you jumped on his stiff cock, shiny slick coating your's and his thighs. Your hands gripped his long luscious hair, tugging on it to hear him groan so prettily. He bucked his hips up suddenly, catching you off guard but you still kept bouncing. He thrusted upwards, matching your rhythm and it felt fucking euphoric. He could feel you tighten around his cock, throwing his head back. You could see his eyes slightly rolled back, drool dripping from his mouth as he tried his best to keep up with you. You both came shortly after, lips smashed against each other's as he swallowed your moans.
୨✩୧ FUKUZAWA
You were sitting in the living room, right across your beloved husband as you thought about what he could possibly want to talk to you about. He elegantly sipped on his tea, setting the cup down on the coffee table that was seperating you both. "I've been thinking about this for the past couple days," he started, " I think we should try for a child. Of course, if you don't want to that's comple─" "no! I-I mean.. I also think we should try" you cut him off. He smiles, "So we're on the same page?" You returned his smile, reachingyour hand out to hold his bigger ones, "definitely, dear."
"shh, darling. you're doing so good for me," he gasped, rocking his hips gently against your plush ones. He felt so big inside you, your pussy molding to the shape of his cock. Everything about him was so elegant. The way he softly intertwined his fingers with yours as he fucked you dumb on his cock. He wasn't even going hard on you, the sheer size of his girth made you see stars and eyes roll back. His other hand was gently stroking your cheek, wiping the unshed tears in your waterline with his thumb while mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. A low rumble formed in his chest when you clenched around him, "are you going to cum, sweetheart?" "nghh─ 'm gonna cum! please, fuck! don' stop!" You babbled, gasping when he picked up his pace. "go on, sweet girl. cum on this cock right now," he grunted, his grip on your hand tightening as you both cum. You were panting, mouth agape as you tried to come down from the mind numbing high of your orgasm when he started moving again, not giving you time to rest. You tried to stop him, pressing a hand agaisnt his hard chest but he just pinned you down easily, muttering something about he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure you took his seed.
୨✩୧ ODA
You knew your man loved kids, and you did too. So why not have some of your own? The thought of starting a family with the man of your dreams made butterflies flutter in your stomach. When you confronted him about it, he was ecstatic. He imagined a mini you or him running around the house. He thought about it a lot. Would it really be a good idea considering his dangerous job in the mafia? Fortunately, you were there to reassure him. Telling him that even if he worked for the mafia, he wasn't a bad person. He deserved happiness in his life and you would be glad to give it to him. Heavens, how he adored you.
You don't know how many hours have passed since Oda started drilling his fat cock into you, reaching every crevice with ease as he rolls his muscular hips just right. You don't even remember how many times you've came─ your mind not being able to keep up. Everything felt so blurry, you could hear ringing in your ears, with your legs being pushed back all the way against your chest. Your knees almost touching your ears as he folds you into whatever position he pleases. His cock pounding you so hard while his balls smacked against your ass, the soft fat jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips. It's like something snapped inside of him, crumbling all his restraint to take you slowly, lovingly and gently. He was never this rough with you. Did the subject of him getting you pregnant really affect him that much? Whatever it was, you didn't have the brain capacity to think about it right now, not while Oda was absolutely destroying your cunt. "you see that, honey?" He groans, staring in awe at your tiny cunt stretching around him. "she's droolin' on me, fuck─" he cut himself off with a gasp, watching as you shamelessly squirt all over his cock, drenching his abdomen and the sheets beneath you. "holy shit, and I thought you couldn't get sexier," he laughed, running a hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat. "don't worry, pretty. cum all you want, I'm not stopping till' I'm done with you."
©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
TAGS : @hypocritic-trash-baby @gimme-noodles-please @dazaiserectnips @leonslxtkennedy
#bsd smut#bsd x reader#bsd imagines#bungo stray dogs#Bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader smut#bsd x reader smut#Dazai smut#Dazai x reader#Dazai x reader smut#Chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya x reader smut#Sigma x reader#sigma smut#sigma x reader smut#Fyodor x reader#fyodor x reader smut#Fyodor smut#fukuzawa smut#fukuzawa x reader#fukuzawa x reader smut#Oda x reader#oda smut#oda x reader smut#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#fyodor Dostoevsky#fukuzawa yukichi#౨ৎ — archive・
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those three words
words: 1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, descriptions of reader being short and curvy, like 3 uses of the word kid?, they say i love you for the first time <3, established relationship, protective!rafe, kinda drug dealer rafe but really barry just makes a ~scary~ appearance
“rafe-” your eyes widen as you take in the scary looking man standing in front of you, heavy footsteps making their way in your direction.
“it's alright, kid.” rafe moves effortlessly in front of you, blocking your entire body out as you grip onto the back of his shirt.
“who's that you're hiding?” the man asks. you peek around rafes tall frame to blink at the stranger.
“she's mine.” rafe simply grunts out, and the feeling of confusion and fear is replaced by pure flattery as your cheeks blush red.
“she's a cute little thing, huh?” he smirks at you, gold tooth catching the sun as you quickly duck back behind rafe.
“yeah, she's my cute little thing.” rafe turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you towards the sliding glass doors. “and she's going inside right now.” his tone is soft, but still commanding.
you glance once between rafe and the man before gulping and rushing inside up the stairs to rafes bedroom, locking yourself inside and even crawling under the covers like the warm material could keep you safe.
you wait patiently, silently as you listen, letting out a sigh of relief when the footsteps you hear making their way up the stairs are clearly rafes, not the stranger with the heavy gait.
“who was that?” you ask as you open the door, rafe pressing you back inside, easily flipping the lock behind his back to trap you back in his room.
“nothing for you to worry about, doll.” rafe smirks at you before his lip drops when you let out a frustrated huff. “come here.”
rafe moves to the bed, pulling you onto his lap, caging you against his body with his thickly muscled arms.
“shit like that is for me to deal with. you don't need to be stressing your pretty little head, okay?” rafe says slowly. you nod back even slower.
“what are you here for, huh?” rafe taps your nose, getting you to refocus on him, seeing your mind already starting to drift elsewhere. “tell me baby.”
“im here to look cute…” you glance down at your fingernails, painted a light shade of pink. “and make you happy…” your cheeks flush red at the next part. “and make you feel good.”
“exactly.” rafe nods. “so when barry comes around, you come in here and wait for me to get back, okay?”
you nod more enthusiastically this time, the worry and anxiety floating away. rafe is there for you, he'll always be there for you, to protect you. you just need to clear your mind and let him.
“so you gonna make me feel good now?” rafe ducks his head to bring it closer to your face. he towers over you, your tiny stature is part of what made rafe attracted to you. graced with beautiful mature curves but short legs and torso which made you pewny next to his massive height.
“course.” a smile stretches across your plump cheeks.
“get naked for me then.”
you slide off of rafes lap, feet padding softly against the rug he bought just because your bare feet got cold against the wooden floor.
you start with your tanktop, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth are you slowly lower it until you fling it away, cupping your hands around your bra, the light pink matching everything, just as rafe likes it.
you reach behind your back to undo the bra next, pulling the straps down teasingly slow before letting the cups fall away to the floor.
“god.” rafe groans out, unashamed as he grips his cock through his pants. “i like the show, baby, but i need you right now.”
despite his size, rafe moves quickly and smoothly, grabbing your waist and pushing you towards the bed, flopping onto your stomach.
before you can even adjust, rafe is pulling you by your hips towards the edge so your feet are hips are at the side of the bed, legs hanging down.
rafe loves how easily he can manhandle you, make you his little fuck toy as his hands push your skirt up, revealing a tiny thong that is quickly ripped away.
rafe watches as you spread your legs while he undoes his jeans, your pussy already gleaming with wetness as you bare yourself for him.
“that's my girl.” rafe smirks, grasping his freed cock and running it through your folds, feeling the way it soaks his head before he taps it against your entrance, once, twice, and then a final third time before pushing forward, burying his cock inside of you with a groan.
“oh, fuck.” you squeal out, rafe not giving you even a moment to adjust. he wouldn't need to wait for his hand or a fleshlight, so he doesn't wait for you either, instantly setting a rapid pace, his cock squelching into your wetness with every thrust.
“god, so tight. so tight and-” rafe let's out a low moan. “and fucking tiny.”
rafe grips your hips, lifting your entire ass off the bed, your flowy skirt falling even more down your back as he holds you up with ease, smiling to himself as his muscles bulge, knowing this is undoubtedly what will be on his mind next time he works out.
rafe pulls your hips back with every thrust to meet his as your arms scramble to support yourself, but no need as you ultimately resign to your fate, bare cheast pushing against the bed as rafe fucks you, ass in the air.
“god, so good for me baby.” rafe groans out. you're not doing anything other than staying still for him, but you still glow at the praise, clenching your cunt around his cock every time he pulls out.
“jesus, you don't want me out do ya kid?” rafe chuckles, having to work to get his cock out just to slam back in.
“love your cock.” you manage to say. “‘ts perfect.”
“aww, baby.” rafe coos out. “it's your pussy that's perfect for me.”
rafe thrusts harder as if trying to prove his point. you feel his cock swell inside of you and know it's moments before your cunt gets flooded. you relax when the warm cum fills you as rafe moans, fingers squeezing your hips so tight you're sure to bruise as he holds you down on his cock until it's done pumping.
“fuck.” rafe groans, pulling out as you clench your pussy, trying to not let the cum escape, loving the feeling of being filled up with rafe.
“come on, turn over kid.” rafe taps your hip as you flip onto your back, giggling as rafe falls with a bounce onto the bed next to you, pulling you in for a kiss.
“see, kid. that was exactly what i needed.” you can already tell the shift in energy from rafe, the way he's more relaxed now, face not hard set with stress.
the words escape your lips before you can help it. “i love you.”
your eyes widen once you realize what you just admitted, causing rafe to laugh. you pull away, suddenly feeling awkward and exposed, only for rafe to tug you back close.
“relax, baby.” he says, running his thumb over your cheek. “i love you too.”
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#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x oc#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot
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