#you can entertain him for an hour or two!
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 1] Offerings
Story Masterlist
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!
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Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.
He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.
He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.
“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.
“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.
“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.
“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”
“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.
“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.
Sukuna wants a successor.
“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.
“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.
It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.
“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”
“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.
“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”
There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”
“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.
“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.
“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”
“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,
“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”
You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.
“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.
You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.
“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.
“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.
You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.
“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”
“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”
He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.
What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.
“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”
“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.
“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”
Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.
“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”
“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.
“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”
“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”
“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”
“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.
You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.
#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen
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SEXUAL HEALING!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — synopsis ! you just can’t please yourself anymore. all the toys, your ten fingers and the hours just can’t bring down that crashing bliss…but your sex therapist can!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — pairings! fem!reader x sex therapist!toji fushiguro
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — cw! 5.7k, pwp, dubcon, talks of masturb*tion, masturb*tion, teasing, nïppleplay, grinding, dom!toji, oral(m. receiving), bondage (toji ties your hands up), spitting, no protection, p in v, sqūirting, if i forgot some…that’s the gist!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — xoxo, chris! this one has been in my archives for a little minute so pls enjoy!
Bearing the full wrath of his emerald hues weren’t for the weak, even if the glossy glare of glasses weakened its effects. You shrunk in his presence, your body melding into the cherry leather couch. In truth, anything Toji did sent the cold prickles to lick at your spine. The adjusting grips upon his pen, the mindless shifts in his seat, and even the faint grins brought a searing rouse to your mind.
For the past two weeks since discovering his services, it’s been nothing but the same antics that etched into your impressionable mind. The memories seemed to fancy you best at night, replaying each detail to the ‘t’.
From the thick pads of his fingers, he’d strummed along his jawline as he spoke ever so softly to you to the buttons of both his white dress shirt and cafè slacks threatening to pop with every nudge of his body. The sultrous thoughts stained your mind, even guiding your wandering hand to forbidden places.
Nowadays during the visits, it's a challenge to focus on any issues without the suffocating vines of lust laced around every inch of your body. It surely didn’t help to know that the Toji Fushiguro sat before you, his ears piqued to all to come.
Today, however, brought its own specific issues to the table. To begin with, your legs clenched more than usual, paired with the uncontrollable flairs of heat welling upon your skin.
He’s studying you again—every inch as a matter of fact. Toji’s chewing on the cap of his blue pen to keep his sight company, breathing the scene of you in pure heat. The squeeze of your thighs, the hitches clogging your chest, down to the quiver of your lips—it’s all just enticing him to entertain you once more.
“So Y/N, in the time that we’ve started these sessions…you still haven't told me what the actual issue is.”
“I haven’t?! It’s…a lot to explain but I guess I owe you that…”
Toji’s visage bears a displeased look, courtesy of the squint narrowing his eyes. Your teeth pinch at the plush of your bottom lip, the spry nerves of angst bleeding across your skin. You’ve come to know that very look too well, alerting you of his impending limits.
“Well…I can’t exactly…cum anymore.”
“And why is that you think?”
“Stress, mostly. So much is going on in my life right now but I didn’t think things were that bad. I can’t pinpoint what it really is. And it’s kinda embarrassing…to admit it aloud…to you.”
Toji’s entire face fell into a lackluster frown, a wrinkle placed between his brows. His interest’s been piqued by the sudden revelation, coaxing him to sit upright in his leather armchair. The pads of his fingers fall to their steady state, grazing the chiseled contour of his jaw as he presses on.
“Have you been having issues with any partners or…?”
“I think it’s best if I don’t enter any relationships until I get it situated. So I’ve just been…—”
“You’ve learned it through touching yourself, I got that much. It seems we’ve got quite the problem on our hands, don’t we, Doll?”
At his brash conclusion, you found yourself filled with a wave of heat, embarrassment prickling at the highs of your cheeks down the very tips of your fingers. As vulgar as it may be, Toji couldn’t be any closer to the truth.
Call it a kind gesture or cowering in loss of confidence, you couldn’t trust anyone but yourself with your needs. Yet, even that only brought you so far. All the time, all the dollars spent, and not a single toy in your reach ever came close to easing that pit so deep within your tummy.
However, to hear Toji utter such words without a shred of the hesitation you held stirred something in you, bringing a flutter of butterflies to swarm to your belly. You couldn’t dare meet his eyes, nonetheless continuing down such an intimate path.
“Mhm,” you mutter lowly. “So…is it fixable?”
A heavy shroud of silence falls upon both you and Toji, the unanswered inquiry left to bake. The room’s filled with a flurry of emotions. Relief and comfort may have filled the air, but the dark ruse of embarrassment and worry clawed through to the surface. You don’t have to look at Toji to know what he’s thinking.
He’s deep in thought, trying to comprehend just how to handle your case. Toji wants to offer you the best help he can supply, one that he alone could provide you. His eyes are cast upon you, his pretty patient with the worst of luck.
He’s shocked should the truth be told, shocked to know that someone like you had encountered such devious trouble. Now, all he’s left to do is imagine, his thoughts used to help you now sullied by his own twisted imagination.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see it, you caught up in the heights of lust. To watch your spine take on an ungodly arch, your lips whipped into a quiver, and the hellish cries of plea he’d have to endure. He’s eager to witness it now. It’s written all over him, even apparent in all the mindless movements within the seat. He’s so intrigued by you that he’s forced to grow comfortable, reclining back into his seat.
“Y/N?” Toji calls, a grin laced buried behind his tone.
“Um…yes, Dr. Fushiguro?”
“Come sit.”
Your eyes shift to meet his own, a darkened flair clouding his eyes. At the sound of his very direction, Toji’s thrown into an ecstatic state. His hands rest along the armrest, the pads of his digits rattling a sporadic tune. Your head falls into a gentle tilt, as you begin to comprehend what exactly was asked of you.
“Where…exactly?”
“On my lap of course. Unless you don’t want the issue to be…properly addressed.”
Hesitation runs high within your veins. It’s enough to warn you but not enough to keep you away. The very tip of your black heels dig into the ground as you stand, ruining the groomed pattern of the gray carpet. Every step you take leads you closer and closer to Toji, his aura beckoning you to close the distance.
He’s desperately failing at hiding his excitement, the corners of his lips fighting back a smile. It’s not until the curve of your ass settles atop his thigh that he can breathe that much easier, the florals of your mint dress melding well along the black pant leg.
“Good,” he hums, placing his hand to ghost along your waist. Toji’s compelled to face the consequences, his body overrun by his own whims and desires. He’s longed to have you this close, your temple of a body finally in his grasp. He simply has to take you, to admire every inch of you while time is on his side.
“Now, y’know I wanna help you, Y/N, right?”
“Right.”
“And if I’m going to help you, you have to tell me everything. All you’ve tried, what you haven’t tried—all of it. I promise that by the end of this session…you’ll be all cleared of such a pesky problem.”
Toji’s hands inch to capture your waist, brushing past the soft fabric. Anticipation nips at his being, teasing Toji’s will until he gives in.
“Can I touch you?…for the sake of t-the diagnosis, that is.”
“Yes,” your body losing all tension in Toji’s hold.
No delay can be found in his reach, the pads of his thumb inscribing mindless swirls at your lower back, easing your body into his. All it takes is a gentle tug to seal both your fates, your back resting along the hull of his chest. In Toji’s eyes, you’re just beautiful, so perfect that it melts the cold abyss of his soul. He’s forsaken with an urge to fulfill, eager to ensure your comfort.
“Alright, let’s start nice and easy. Tell me, does it feel okay? You can tell me to stop at any time.”
You peek back to meet the haze of green in Toji’s eyes. His words roll off in the softest of tones, his touch falling nothing short of soothing. It’s almost shameful how quickly you give into him, your head resting at the curve of his shoulder. His touch is even pulling those shushed purrs right off your chest and into his delirious mind.
“That’s cute, we’re starting to get somewhere. Now I wanna ask…What kind of toys did you use? Nothing too extreme I hope.”
A harsh gulp is forced down your throat. All the heat is pinned on you, the brash embarrassment and amusement melding into a single hellish mix.
“I…I used vibrators, brought a few um.…d-dildos and well.…”
Toji’s lost in the heat of the moment, your words soon falling to white noise. He’s hurt to hear it, how your own body could turn against you. Or at least he should be. But all Toji sees is an opportunity, a chance for him to prove to you just how badly you need a man like him in your life.
All he wants is to help you and relieve all that pesky tension scattered throughout you. So maybe that’s why his touch travels to forbidden places, the palms of his hands creeping up to your chest. He’s daring enough to do it too, sending his digits to softly cup at your tits. The pads of his fingers settle over the bra, using a pulsing squeeze to spur you on all the further
His presence isn’t something to be ignored, nor when the heat of his palms bleeds right through the layers of clothes. You’re all too swift to reciprocate his advances, pushing your chest to fill the expanse of his palms. nudging your shoulders for the dress’ straps to fall.
“Toji?”
“Hm?”
“Can you…y’know…keep doing that, please?”
There’s bliss to be worn by Toji, his lips curling to match his amusement. He’s willing to test his luck now by the little whimpers escaping from your pursed lips. Bit by bit his fingers work, tugging at the cups of your bra. It’s a slow practice but he’s only that much closer to the goal—having your tits spill in his hands.
You’re left for putty in his care, anticipation dressing you in a feverish heat. All Toji’s good for is his clever nature, now more than ever. And he knows this very fact all too well. He knows what he can do to you and why he can make you wait like this. The seconds meld into hours the longer he forces your patience, leaving the bra’s wire to trail against your skin.
It isn’t long before a sigh of relief cracks through the air, your tits finally sitting pretty in his palms. He can’t help but admire his efforts—the contrast of lush supple skin, the rousing flush of heat filling out the peaks of your nipples. He’s so engrained in the unfolding scene that he can’t help how his own digits prey on the raw bud with steady pinches.
“Oh, you pretty thing. You like me touching you like this? I’ve barely done anything, though,” his voice breaking the silence. Toji brings a trail of soft pecks from his lips to nip at the velvety crook of your neck, each one dusting across your skin.
“I haven’t played with that cute lil’ clit, or even fucked your pussy full…looks like you’ve got my work cut out fr’ me, don’t you?”
Your teeth sink into the curve of your bottom lip, your thoughts caught in awe by Toji’s words. Here he was, a man doused in intelligence speaking without a care in the world to his patient. He’s so shamelessly vulgar that it’s refreshing, a breath of fresh air if you weren’t so needy.
“You feelin’ okay?” Toji presses as his fingers still find delight in teasing your nipples. He’s even found another way of easing you into his care, his hands kneading the plush flesh to par. He knows you’re feeling something, courtesy of all the cute faces and pretty whimpers he’s had the pleasure of enduring. Yet, there’s only so much–and only much he himself can take before bursting.
“It’s okay but I think I think I’ll need something just a bit more…trying, if you understand.”
Toji only wishes you’d never said that even if the thought was bad enough. He’s been sitting on such a heavy bulge since you walked in, it’s almost hard for him to even think clearly. All the shushed pangs shooting through his pants, the mess of precum he’ll have to face, all the while he has you squirming right over his cock.
He can’t ignore it, a minute longer and he’ll burst from the sprinkles of friction he bears from your shifting hips. Toji has no choice but to scramble through his thoughts now. to find a solution to both growing problems.
“I-I have something we can try…if you’re okay with that, of course?”
All Toji needed to see was your eyes breaking wide, even your lips falling from that tight-knit pout to know just how dedicated to the cause you were.
“And what is it?”
“Get on your knees and I’ll show you.”
You were one to oblige if it meant you’d finally be cured. You were swift to part from Toji, pulling away from the hull of his chest to rest on the plush carpet. Your hands find rest over the curve of your knees as you face him.
You can’t deny it, the heat fizzling deep within your belly. Toji really didn’t have to tell you what he had planned but you knew it’d sound better coming from his sly lips. Why else would be seated on your knees if not to satisfy the growing bulge you’ve been warming for the past half hour?
In truth, the proposed idea was as bizarre as it was thrilling. Your mouth watered at every notion to pass through your brain. You’d finally have a taste of that man, to watch him fall apart at the warmth of your mouth, the swivels of your tongue, and the tight constrict of your throat–why it might just be enough to make you cum at last.
“Now what?” Your head falls into a puzzling tilt.
For his own idea, Toji had no clue where to proceed. Just the sight of you was enough to devastate Toji. You're sitting so politely on your knees, peering back up at him with those misty doe eyes beckoning for his trusty aid—it’s almost too much for him to take.
Toji’s run hot with hysterical anticipation for you. His skin’s bleeding with the purest hues of pink, dotting at the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. It’s embarrassing for him to say but all he can do is imagine how pretty your lips would look fitted around his cock, the swollen mounds laced around the fat head with conviction.
To reach whatever sick fantasy he’s planning, however, Toji’s forced to find an answer fit to satisfy you, one that won’t raise suspicions about his true ambitions.
“Uh…well…studies show that some people get highly aroused by giving pleasure. So let’s see how wet you get sucking me off, ’kay?”
The heat of Toji’s palm sinks into your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing along your skin. For now, he’s ditched that hardened stare for a new one. He’s softer now, emerald hues glimmering with a hint of resolve for your cause. It’s a gradual pace but you’re falling into his care by the second.
“I’ll coach you through it all so we—I mean— you can get the best out of it. I’m doing this all for you, after all, Sweetheart.”
“Okay…if you think it’s gonna help me…fine. Just…don’t…don’t look at me while I do it.”
All you can do is give Toji a limp nod, granting you both to finally relax in each other’s presence. Your hands gravitate to the clasp of Toji’s belt, the cold metal buckle rattling apart. A gentle lift of his hips is all it takes for his navy slacks to rest bunched at his ankles, pulling his black briefs in tow.
It’s only natural for your eyes to settle upon the raw sight of his cock. Toji’s big, bigger than just what his aura’s led you to believe. But what are his words, his mannerisms, when compared to the hefty girth his cock holds? The tanned fat of his length lays along the ridges of Toji’s abs riddled with pudgy veins.
His balls come with a bloat so full that you’re sure just a mere pass of your tongue could pull every drop he has to offer. Though, it’s the tip of his cock that really earns your attention. The fat head wears only the prettiest imbues of pink and crimson, glossed in the spilling tears of precum.
Small hands lace around the thick girth of Toji’s cock, the flourished forked veins thumping in your hold. You let the fat mushroomed tip drift along your lips, the sheer weight sinking into the plush mounds for a kiss. It’s a soft kiss that you give, one that brings your lips to encircle every inch of the fat head. You can’t help but usher him deeper, a gentle suckle introducing Toji to the warmth of your mouth.
The pink bellhead sits heavy along the curve of your tongue. And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with everything that relates back to Toji. His scent, taste, and even the heat budding within his cock become all you know.
You draw away for a moment, admiring the thin layer of gloss shrouding the head of his cock. Beneath the pad of your thumb is where your eyes fall flat on the thickest vein to entertain, fat and begging for attention.
The flat of your tongue curls at the vein, painting a wet trail of spit along the heavy underside of his cock. Toji’s the first to break the tense silence, his chest hoisting in a heavy breath. He’s already prepared to cum by your hand. Yet his eyes hinge on the sight of you teasing his cock, that pretty pink tongue innocently licking at his biggest weakness. It takes so much of him to hold back a groan, the poor man resorting to a spill of words instead.
“That’s it, just put your tongue on the underside ‘nd—h-haa…oh fuuck!”
A grin creeps at the corners of your mouth at Toji’s face, fluttering eyes, and laxed jaw. He’s piqued your curiosity, leaving you to wonder just how sensitive he is. You’ve barely done anything to him and yet he’s cast into a state of ruin.
You know it’s a crude thought to entertain but that still doesn’t stop your lips from sealing around the head of his cock once more. Inch by inch is how you take Toji into your mouth, your lips keeping a loose cling around his girth. Your mouth combs over the length of his cock gradually, leaving the thick sheens of spit as you take him in one swift motion.
Determination drives you drunk, your throat so eager to squeeze Toji of his worth. Already, his cock sits so homelily in your throat, his throbbing shaft shooting through your senses. It’s an unsettling virtue you carry, fighting the urge to gag and reject him in its entirety. But when you look back up at his drowsy eyes and fond grin, Toji’s bliss is the sole reason you’re still holding strong.
A burst of awe crackles through your mind. You simply have to admire your own achieved goal of being able to take all of Toji’s cock into your mouth. He makes it easy for you too, his encouraging words and all the head pats serving as your motivation.
“Yes, yes, yes, Right there, Y/N! Just a little bit more, get it all in your mouth.”
He’s trying his hardest to keep calm but it’s all so dizzying to him. You just feel so good around him, taking him like the good girl he knows you are. You’re just so cute, small hands pawing at his inner thighs. It’s taking all of Toji’s strength to keep his thick thighs from smothering you. It’s against your wishes to even blink at you, but Toji has half a mind to ignore the beauty between his very legs.
The onslaught of tremors quaking through Toji’s legs can only stand for one thing—he’s close. From the huffs of his lungs, winces rippling out his throat, and the heavy grip he keeps at the base of your neck, it’s more than even he can handle.
You pay Toji a glance of misty eyes fluttering with white. That evil glance of your eyes rolling back alone was his final straw. The heavy seize of nerves claims every bit of him hostage, leaving Toji to be still in your presence. A word doesn’t have to pass through his lips for you to understand what exactly entrances his heart, mind, and body. Not when a grip like his over the nape of your neck loosens all too quickly.
There’s no exact warning or way to prepare you for the heavy load Toji had for your sweet little throat. But when a squeal is all you can muster out as the thick spurts of white flood the walls of your throat, you know all too well to hold every drop in without delay.
“C’mere,” Toji huffs between breaths, pulling you to fill the expanse of space between his trembling thighs. You’re a mess before him— black patterned tears staining your plump cheeks, swollen lips smeared in a gloss of his precum, even your chin’s doused in a spool of spit that’s dribbled far down past your breasts.
All the mystery and innocence surrounding his favorite client was wiped clean by his very hands. It’s an artwork so rare he’s actually scared to ruin it. But that doesn’t stop Toji’s hands from crowding at your waist, tugging the dress to fall to the ground.
A sliver of Toji’s strength is all he needs to have you pinned beneath him, his hull of a body caging you in. He’s peppering the crook in kisses all over again, pulling you in with the hazy growl of his voice.
“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til all you can do is cum fr’ me.”
“I dunno, so far you’re the only one that’s had their issue fixed,” you pouted, your arms coming into a fold over your chest. Toji can’t help but chuckle at your reasoned display as he brings his knuckles to graze over the high of your cheeks.
It’s a steep threat he’s made indeed, he knows it. Toji’s made it his goal to see your orgasm through to the very end. That alone drives Toji’s hands to be hard at work, ridding himself of what clothes did occupy his body. The white button-down, the navy blazer of his suit, all tossed about the room without a single care. All that remains in his hand is his tie—his favorite one made of a precious white silk.
With his free hand, Toji pulls your arms from your sides and above your head, his sinister plan laid in plain sight. “Gimme your wrists. Can’t have you moving around when I’m at work.” His speech almost rivals that of the smooth fabric that comes to drape past your arms, lacing around to build the pretty bow the thin slack settling above your midway wrists.
Toji turns his attention down the course of your body, digits catching at the rim of your panties. There’s an amused grin that illuminates his sharpened features. He’s intrigued by every little detail to be found, thick fingers flicking at the limp bow in honest tease. He offers you a single glance, chuckling at the pout you wear so perfectly.
“Let’s take these off too, yeah?” Your hips rise to aid Toji, the cotton slipping down your legs and off into the hazy abyss of the office.
Toji’s cock comes to lay between your thighs, slipping right between the plump lips of your pussy. A gasp catches itself in your lungs as the sheer weight of his cock smothers against your clit. A gesture like that can’t afford to go unnoticed, especially under Toji’s keen eye. He has to entice you, to give you a reason to go forward with his senseless idea.
His hips fall into a mimicked pattern of rolls, driving his cock to graze across the hot bud of your clit. He knows it feels good too, to have the heavy length grind against you, the enriched veins plump with blood melding into nothing but white-hot ecstasy. He’ll even go as far as to ensure that the fat head of his cock smears along your clit, pressing the wettest of pecks upon the perked pearl.
He’d be lying if he said you didn’t arouse him. He’s entranced by all the dumb expressions passing over you. Every eye roll, pout, and whimper has him falling over himself. That’s why Toji has to close the distance between you both, his chest buried within the heat of yours. He’s so close that his lips have to purposely brush past your own, a flurry of kisses catching you two in the moment’s heat.
Toji pulls away at last when he knows you’ve had enough, the flushing cold sweeping over your bare physique. He peers down at the awaiting scene, his eyes greeted by his cock dressed in your spill of honey.
“See, just look at how wet you are. Oh, ‘m gonna fucking love this pussy, aren’t I?”
A final drag of his hips pits the thick head cock of Toji’s cock to nip at your fluttering hole, His hand snakes between you, bestowing a careless grip over his shaft. He’s swiping at your glossy slit in breathless awe as a single question arises in his mind.
“You can take it?”
“I can take it!” you whimper, giving a frantic nod to match.
“Then fucking take it. It’s all for you.”
Without another word, Toji’s cock sinks to fill you. It’s the initial drive that claims you, strikes of a ripping heat tracing along your walls. He’s only given you the tip and your poor hole already’s sobbing with a delicious burn. Inch by painstaking inch Toji fills you, your pussy finally giving way for more.
He’s aware he’s asking a lot of you but there really is no other choice but to bully your walls to take him. Yet Toji’s interested in something more heavenly than your enveloping pussy—your teary eyes aimed at the mess unfolding between your legs. An amused hum is all he can get out before his hands slip to brace your arching spine, pulling you up just enough to watch his sinking hips.
“See it? It’s goin’ in nice and slow just for you, pretty girl.”
Why you’re taking Toji well that more than half of his fat cock's been sucked in by the cute cries of your pussy. He’s overwhelming you, a sinful fact he has to ignore. He’s already in so deep that to pull out would only be criminal, not when he’s already to the hot gushing smothers of your walls.
If anything, Toji’s distracting his hinging guilt with your face all over again. It’s the pouts, the winces, the breathless gasps that soothe his guilt. He wants to know all that’s passing through your mind.
Toji’s hand comes to brace the limp fall of your jaw, breaking yet another moan from your lips.
The room’s growing heat carries you both together. A mere peck that grows for every second shared amongst you two. A shared hunger erupts and that alone always lands you in the timeless scene: drunk off each other and urgent for more.
There’s no sense of competition for the lead, no remnant of aggression, only the purest of intentions to be found. That careful art welcomes along the sticky chimes ringing about, the breathless hums of bliss, and Toji’s pitiful wince of desperation.
Toji’s almost in despair for it, the supple heat that the kiss from you provides. He’s so eager for it that he’ll chase every inch of you, Toji’s lips catching the drifting tides of your lips. He’s following your every nod, your every jolt, everything just to hold that extra second he has with you.
He breaks away just for the moment, still hopelessly searching to ease his doubts. His thumb traces the curve of your bottom lip, coaxing you to fall for his lustful spell. “Don’t be shy, baby. Tell me everything you wanna say. If you don’t, I’ll just hear it later.”
“Y’re so big, Toji! So big, and s’ deep! B-But I love it, m-makes me so good,” you babble aloud helplessly. It’s such a passionate ramble that it sends your pussy aflutter at the very thought, your walls capturing his length in an impassioned squeeze.
“Mhmmm—oh fuck, that’s a good girl!”
“M-Me? I’m a good girl?” Your eyes shooting wide at his words.
“‘Course you’re a good girl—My good girl! Takin’ me so well too.”
And he’s right, who else could handle so much of him other than you? His hips can reel from your own, pulling the full brute of his cock from the warmth of your pussy. finally sit against your own, the full brute of his cock sitting pretty in your pussy. He’s falling into the charitable realm of the moment. The matched breaths, the heat flushing out his senses, the throbbing pangs that bleed through his cock.
Toji’s hips only graze along your own for a moment before he’s sent into retreat. He reels away from your heat with a wince, the fat head being left to plug up your hole. His cock gravitates to fill you, desperate to overwhelm your walls with a splitting stretch. He was kind at first but now those lazy, laggard draws are now spiked with a swift drive.
The rolling tide of Toji’s hips feeds you his cock all too easily. He’s fucking right at it, hitting your sweet spot without a doubt. Bit by bit, he’s hitting deeper than before too, the prodding head sulling your cervix in messy pecks.
Your body tells him all he needs to know. All the gasps, broken moans, and even the bucks of your hips give Toji a prideful power high. It’s enough for him to ramble out with his thoughtless notions, calling in just very thing he’s itching to observe.
“Go on ‘nd play with yourself. Lemme see you play with that cute pussy of yours, Sweetheart.”
It’s a struggle, twisting your bonded arms to squeeze between what space Toji allowed. Your lithe fingers fight for a steady brace over the hood of your clit. It’s messy but you can manage painting loose circles over the slicked bud.
All Toji can do is coo at you and poor attempts, clicking his tongue in detest. He’s watching you, how your fingers can’t remain consistent over the puffy button. You’re shamefully lacking the pressure, the gradual teasing speed, all the tools needed to reach a proper orgasm—something he knows too much about.
“No wonder you can’t cum, you need so much lovin’ than that,” Toji surmises with a smear. He feels remorse for you, really. It’s no wonder you couldn’t achieve anything close to an orgasm, you needed more than what your body’s led on—all pent up with stress and anxiety, with no real way of release.
It’s because of his newfound pity that the pads of his thumbs break from your inner thigh to your cunt, prying the swollen mounds from their sticky clasp. His mouth purses at the reveal of your pussy, dribbling streams of drool to spill over your clit.
The heat of his thumb strums at your puffy hood, engraving traces of hearts and the bubbly lather of his spit to induce your impending high. He can feel how close you are, how you’re so hesitant to allow yourself something so sinfully deserving.
You have all you need to cum—his cock dragging at your walls in tempered heights, his worked thumbs calling your nerves into a spry rave. Toji’s even willing break his comfort for you, bringing his forehead to rest against your own. His eyes hold in line with yours, reaching to the depth of your very being with one single plea
“It’s okay, just relax. You gotta let it out…fr’ me, please?”
Your lips part to give some answer, but all that’s to come is a cracked sob. All you have left in you is a single roll of Toji’s hips, the dipping tides pulling forth your long-awaited high. Your walls clench him in place, forcing his thighs to catch the weeping salacious tears of your cunt.
Astonishment shatters Toji’s focused composure, his eyes pinned to the sight. At last, he can see it, your pussy sputtering out all the pent-up worries. It’s not until he peers back at you that he sheds such joy from mind, your bewildered expression searching for an explanation.
“I’m so sorry Toji! I-I don’t know what just happened, I just–”
“I don’t care about that!” He interjects with a boyish grin. You can’t help but study the more before you, the sticky thread of black hair stuck to his forehead, the dots of pink drifting across his cheeks. Toji doesn’t bother to pull out from you, his hips sending his cock to sit deeper inside you.
The excitement that breaks across him is contagious, your lips catching a grin similar to his. In celebration of his efforts, Toji can only smother you in kisses, his lips peppered along the highs of your polished cheeks.
“Question is…can you give me another?”
A feverish nod falls from your head, holding a weary smile in tow.
“Good. A pretty pussy like yours was always gonna need me anyways.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk smut#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushigro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#cw sex mention#cw smut#//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈!//
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Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.
content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food
wc: 1.6k
notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤
6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.
"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.
"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.
You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.
Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.
"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."
"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.
"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.
Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?
After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.
Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.
"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.
The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.
Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.
The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.
You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.
He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.
You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.
"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"
Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.
"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.
"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."
"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.
"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"
"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."
You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"
"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."
After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"
He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."
#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#vernon x reader#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#vernon chwe x reader
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𝕂𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟
year 1
1-3 months
Have a new baby at home was almost like having a guest in your home. Only your life revolves around them now and you’re constantly worried if they’re okay!
When you had gotten home from the hospital Keaton insisted that he was still sleepy and so stayed asleep meanwhile you and Noah were freaking a bit
“Is he supposed to sleep that much?”
“I mean his is a newborn so I guess it’s normal……is he breathing” *proceeds to put his finger under his nose “okay he is”
Keaton was more a day sleeper rather than at night….big problem. Here you were in your rocking chair trying to get him to sleep at 4:17 am. Your eyes were heavy, your arms felt like rock and you were really just ready to knock out right there. You didn’t tell Noah since he had some things to get done tomorrow
After half hour passed Noah came in rubbing his eyes and took Keaton from you
"Come on babe, it's my turn to watch him,"
"are you sure...*yawwwn* you have that meeting later today, I'll be-"
"Not gonna hear it. Get to bed now missy,"
You were so grateful to have Noah there to help you with as much as he does
Feeding, changing, bathing and night shifts were shared but he always made sure to take on a majority so you could rest more. While he did work still, he worked from home and if he had to take the whole day to help you he did.
The one thing that he did worry about was how small Keaton was. He was just so tiny in comparison to him. He held his entire body in his two hands!
He loved to do skin to skin, especially before going to sleep or while doing work at home. He knew that it was essential for bonding and just overall good for the baby. On top of that he really did enjoy just having Keaton lay on his chest and fall asleep.
When it came to breast-feeding, he was a very big help. He would help to get a good latch or he would help you with the breast pump and remind you about times and switch. Help you moisturize them to keep them from getting dry and cracked
There were nights where he would put Keaton to sleep. While he was in the rocking chair, he was just stared down at him while he stroked the soft hair on his head with his finger.
“ never really thought that I would be a dad…. Once we found out about you, it really did change everything. I swear I’m never going to leave you you need me”
He wants to give him the best life possible and the best dad that he can
3-6 months
So much development! Noah is just taken away by it! Now he's mimicking his faces, and sounds and he will spend HOURS just making faces and sounds or copying him
"babe, babe! Look he's copying me screaming face!" and he'd make his face then turn Keaton around to show you his face
He is convinced Keaton is more advanced than most kids so every time you go to the doctors he's just waiting for them to say they're perfect
the more he grows the more he looks like Noah but with your eyes. You spent 9 months carrying a copy of your husband for him to be his exact copy, but, he did take your attitude and personality
Noah swears that he gave him stank eye when he took the bottle away from feeding and said it looked exactly like you did
"Of course he is! Look at him!"
Noah Love tummy time with Keaton he was just so cute the way he smiled and giggled and tried to hold his head up. And yes He's let his head fall right on the floor and yes Noah has laughed while kissing his head better
Keaton seems to have a thing whenever Noah watches him that he just blows his diaper up almost on purpose. Noah thinks Keaton is entertained by it since he always giggles when he changes his diaper with a stank face.
yes Noah has gotten peed on
Keaton for the most part was a calm baby and seemed to like and be comfortable on schedule and would sleep and eat around the same times unless something happened
Whenever the guys are over he does hover. He hates to be called one and to admit it, but he is a helicopter parent (and it's really cute)
He 10000% takes milestone pictures every month to treasure his growth. Which by the way has cleared a wall in his studio to hand pictures of you guys on it.
Although he loves being hands on he also loves to watch you be a mom. The Keaton looked at you, how loving and soft you looked as a mom. The way your body has changed to create your baby always amazes him.
7-12 months
Keaton was now going through some changes and shifts some were better than others, including you not going to him as often when he cried. Which you hated and honestly Noah would just give in too because in his words it's
"dumb as fuck"
CRAWLING! EVERYWHERE! He underestimated how fast babies can be when they crawl But he loves to lay on the floor and let Keaton just crawl all over him or come and plop his body on his face
By now you're body has healed pretty well but still had some baby weight on you and Noah thinks you still look incredibly sexy
"but Noah look at this,"
"the body that popped out my beautiful son? Yeah I love it, now stop shit talking yourself before to bring Keaton to slobber on you"
Uses his baby as a threat against you by hold him above you and just letting his drool drip down on you (pure evil)
Speaking of drool, he's ben chewing on everything to get to his itchy gums. You noticed he started to grow teeth at around 7 1/2 month when he gave you an open mouth "kiss" you felt something rough and it was teeth! You R A N to Noah
"TEETH!"
"What?"
"TEETH!" and you just opened his mouth to show him the small stubs of teeth growing from the front gums. You were just glad you didn't catch it while you were breast feeding, welp, that means he's gonna have to bottle but you pump what you can
Now weening him was a little difficult. Even your pumped milk wasn't enough for him
"I mean, if you refused to give me your boob I'd cry too-"
"Noah!"
Eventually through a lot of crying and one or two tantrums, he was moved on to bottles, now the issues was drying out your milk or whatever else was left
"If you want my hands are really big so I can just-"
"are you offering to milk me?"
"no.......maybe."
As for talking you guys have been trying to get him to say mama or dada any chance you got, but now it was a secret competition of who he would say first
Noah would basically spam him with the word Dada or Papa while you weren't around, and all lil Keaton would say was "mmmm" "buh. Buh" and blow raspberries
Now he did say his first words and it was when you had to go to a doctors appointment and he was getting fussy
"Say bye-bye to mama bud, she's gotta go"
"awh baby, I' don't want o leave you ether," you said kissing his chubby cheeks "mommy will be back soon okay?" while you hand him over to his dad he starts to whine and pout for you and said
"mama" in his sad voice as he chews at his cubby hand wanting you to stay
"HE SAID MAMA! HE SAID MAMA! Yes baby! I'm mama, that's me baby" you were ecstatic, while Noah was a bit disappointed he was still so proud to hear him say his first word, and at 8 months! You were a bit late to your appointment but hearing your baby say mama was much more important than the doctors.
but one of the biggest surprises was when he walked for the first time, and yes you both cried. It was actually at rehearsals for an upcoming show near home so you went with the guys and of course Keaton had his sound protection you were on the side of the stage holding Keaton up by his hands as you encouraged him to dance as his father sang. As he bounced up and down he was also padding his feet a lot and was just so excited for his daddy who was just out of reach
You start to move with him one foot at a time as he started to walk just a bit faster seeing how much closer he was getting to Noah, Noah turned and he saw you walking with Keaton as he held on to your fingers and crouches down with a big smile on to his knees holding out one of his arms
and just like that he let go of your fingers and stumbled his way to Noah, tripping on the last step but caught by his papa, Noah just picks him up and hides his face in his little shoulder and you know he felt emotional. An entire year went by and he didn't know how it went by so quickly, how much he had grown and how much you both had grown as parents, he comes over to you and kisses your head as Keaton just giggles as you both smoosh him in a kiss
"well, one year down."
「🍼taglist」: @badomensls @darling-millicent-aubrey @lma1986 @sanchez099 @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @flowery-mess @veronicaphoenix @malerieee @calleyx13
#dad noah sebastian#dad noah#noah as a dad#bad omens#noah sebastian#bad omens cult#noah sebastian x reader#noahsebastian#star’s anons#dad series
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For Yandere A.M with Ted and Y/N, how do you think he punishes them whenever they do something he doesn’t like. (Cough, *having boundaries*, cough)
Yandere!AM punishing Ted and Reader
AM has plenty of reasons to punish you two for!
Well, realistically, he has none, but AM is not the most reasonable fella.
He expects you to act on his every whim, to do exactly what he wants.
Except he won't ever fucking tell you what he wants. You're just supposed to know. Somehow.
You've been in his belly for 109 years, you should know by now.
Ted is definitely the absolute favorite, however. He can mentally abuse you. Hell, AM would let Ted get away with hitting you!
Not only because Ted is his favorite, but also because it's just fun for AM, watching how disfunctional you two are.
Watching how no matter what Ted does, you crawl back to him because you love him just so much, because he's your gallant knight, because he always takes you back and gives you affection after you offer yourself to him.
And AM is a perverted little murderous computer. He wants to see his toys together! He wants to see just how depraved you two will get with the right amount of pushing from him!
Yes, he will put you in situations. Yes, he will make it clear that he's not letting you get out of the situation unless he's satisfied enough with watching you.
But what about the actual punishments?
Well, they vary on how kind AM feels like being that day and how fast you two learn your lesson.
It will vary from increased hallucinations on a mild day, to pain that feels like your body is torn apart piece by piece for hours on a slightly irritated day... to a simulation that puts you through both the most mentally and physically tortures imaginable.
It's all your fault, really! It really is! You should've behaved, should've provided AM with entertainment, should've done what you're supposed to!
You're lucky AM is such a forgiving God!
Well, he doesn't forgive and forget right away, of course. You both have to suffer enough first.
And he doesn't stop the punishment until you both beg, so you better pray Ted shoves his ego down enough to ask AM for forgiveness.
#ihnmaims#am ihnmaims#ask#i have no mouth and i must scream#i have no mouth and i must scream x reader#palesweetcherryblossom#am#ihnmaims am#am x reader#ihnmaims ted#ted x reader#ihnmaims am x reader#ihnmaims ted x reader#nosferatu's writing
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ACOSF Feyre with Az
“Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well
enough.”
“We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.”
“Like hell I will.”
Cassian braced himself, but Feyre didn’t back down. “Information from your spies—any spies—can’t be trusted with the Crown in play. Amren said it needs close contact to sink its claws into someone’s mind. We stay far away from Briallyn.”
Azriel bristled and turned to Rhys. “And you agree with her?”
“She’s your High Lady,” Rhys said coldly. “What she says is law.”
ACOSF Feyre with Lucien
“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words
dripped with discomfort. “And I came up here because Feyre said I should. I need to kill a few hours before I’m to meet with her and Rhys. She thought I might enjoy seeing Nesta at work.”
“She’s not a carnival attraction,” Cassian said through his teeth.
“It’s not for entertainment.” Lucien’s red hair gleamed in the dimness of the rainy day. “I think Feyre wanted a progress assessment from someone who hasn’t seen her in a while.”
“And?” Cassian bit out.
Lucien threw him a withering look. “I’m not your enemy, you know. You can drop the aggressive brute act.”
It's notable to observe the choices SJM made in ACOSF regarding Feyre's relationships with Lucien and Azriel. Instead of bringing Azriel closer to Feyre while distancing her from Lucien, SJM chose to have Azriel exhibit argumentative behavior toward Feyre, a role typically associated with Lucien.
Feyre's response to Azriel's challenge contrasts with her interaction with Lucien, where they reach some understanding or truce, even extending an invitation to Lucien for their intimate family solstice gathering.
Furthermore, SJM portrays Feyre becoming closer to Helion, who is Lucien's father. Similarly, Nesta transitions from being antagonistic toward Lucien to siding with him regarding Elain's avoidance. SJM even depicts Nesta's disinterest in pursuing a sexual relationship with her sister's father-in-law, while hinting at Nesta's fantasies involving Azriel.
These romantic developments between Elain and Lucien are captivating and certainly suggest they could be endgame. But why would SJM depict Elain's sisters getting along with Lucien? Why provide details about Lucien's efforts to connect with his brother-in-laws if Elain and Azriel were intended to be together?
SJM could have continued along the path established in ACOSAF, especially concerning Lucien. Instead, she seems to have made it more challenging for Elain to reject her mate. Rhys's assurance of support for Elain doesn't quite align with Lucien's integration into her family if he weren't intended to be a part of it.
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i fucking love when a relationship is severely fucked up. and i think that the matter of scara's autonomy in the context of his relationship with nahida is INTERESTING AS FUCK. because he has been associated with two other archons before right and one of them abandoned him and the other one was his. boss basically.
so in both cases within that relationship there is a general perception of scara as an object or a tool. in ei's case he was. seen as a faulty tool but the point stands. in his betrayal backstories he is very often doing physical labor. he is kept around because he is useful. and so because that is the way he has spent basically his entire life being told that is how his life is going to be, he holds the belief that the only reason anyone associates with him at all is because they want something from him.
and i think there IS room there for a nahida who helps him heal from that. i think there is room for a nahida who sees him as a friend and affirms to him that they are friends and that she does not see him as some kind of errand boy.
however.
Nahida is god. and she is an exceptionally patient and forgiving god, but she is NOT practiced at friendship. she is not familiar with being in any sort of respectful relationship with anyone. She is LITERALLY an immortal little girl who was given all of the information in the world to entertain herself for five hundred years and she was LONELY. and now she has POWER.
i want you to look me dead in the eyes and tell me that if you were an inhuman creature made of knowledge with godlike powers in the body and, to a degree, mind of a preteen girl that you would not choose to tie yourself to the only boy your age you've ever met, the only person who you believe may ever have the ability to ever understand you.
because ive said it before and ill say it again but scara is nahidas nahida. she sees him in the same way she sees herself, lonely and betrayed by people who were meant to take care of him.
so there is such a real real real possibility that there is a nahida who, against anything he could ever want, takes his heart and eats it. who connects the two of them. because the thing is that in order for this relationship to really mean anything to scara there has to be a degree of freedom involved with the safety of a place to come back to, he has to know that he CAN leave and CHOOSE not to. being tethered to nahida would make him FUCKING MISERABLE.
and nahida KNOWS that, and knows that what she is doing is creating another cage. but she can't hear it over the idea of never being alone again.
RATTLING THE BARS OF MY CELL. NAHIDA SELFISH HOURS.
#board certified my post#genshin impact#nahida#scaramouche#wanderer#puppetstrings#i love to see a little girl with a major character flaw
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Hello!
May I request any number of mercs you’d like to write for helping a S/O who is getting burnt out from work/school/general busy life stuff?
I’m having the worst burnout right now and it stinks :/
If I had any preference…any of these: Medic, Engie, Scout, Spy
You can write for one, you can write for all of them, whatever you would like to do.
I’m a woman and use she/her but you can make this gender neutral so non-female folks can also enjoy, whichever you’d like!
Hope you’re well, and thank you <3
an engie request finally you don’t understand — mod engie
GN!READER X MEDIC + ENGINEER + SCOUT + SPY (SEPARATE)
MEDIC
my brother in christ he is ALSO working. 2fort’s best paper pusher right there.
if you see work pile up he wouldn’t be opposed to helping you if you ignore is own work piling up. he doesn’t mind it really, as much as he says he doesn’t get burnt out he absolutely does and completely understands.
also taking you out of a work environment !! separate yourself from work for a little while, it’ll make you feel a lot better. he would take you somewhere nice if he wasn’t banned for 99% of public spaces, but does his best with what he has. you can walk around town together or he’ll invite you to his private quarters for you to relax with him and his Unusual Amount of Doves.
he’s also huge he’s practically a living weighted blanket. he isn’t exactly one to lay down and cuddle for hours but he can give you physical comfort before he finds himself distracted by something else in the room. you WILL have to listen to his crazy side rants if you spend time with him.
over all i think he’s more work oriented, so i think he’s more focused on “getting it all done” than “girl fuck your work we’ll go out on the town”
ENGINEER
paper pusher number two
he saw it happening before you did and probably dragged you out of the workshop before it got too serious. in the most non-creepy way possible he finds himself observing you frequently when you work together (or just in the same area) and will run checks on you frequently. need water? don’t worry about it, got a mini fridge right there for you— hey would you be a darling and pass the beer over too? thanks.
hospitality is his deal, even if you’re dating he finds himself treating you like a guest. you get the top priority. ignore his constant working and hypocrisy and he’s like a mini nurse.
also also probably does the work for you while he distracts you with something else. he doesn’t mean to be untruthful but.. while you nap he might’ve finished up a bit of your work and just told you that you did it but you were so tired you didn’t remember. HE JUST WANTS THE BEST FOR YOU
celebration too! he can actually go places, he takes you to a nice little diner and has dinner with you. he’s wearing his stupid little plaid shirt and jeans to dress nice and is TOTALLY playing but off like he’s the prettiest boy at the party. (he is) he even does the slick back hair motion on his hardhat (or very bald head). i want his dead /pos.
SCOUT
brother doesn’t know what he’s doing. he is one of the WORST at trying to help you get work done. he honestly just tells you to forget about it and you both just leave to go run about the base for a bit. a good jog never hurt anyone, i guess. (pauling is drowning in work)
he’s irresponsible so don’t trust him to help you either, he’ll forget about it and get distracted with something else entirely. but it’s the thought that counts! he’s also illiterate so that’s probably a problem with homework or just filing pages…
he also doesn’t take no for an answer, if you shove him off he’s just gonna keep pestering you, or if you’re small enough? just GRAB YOU. you’re leaving that desk whether you like it or NOT. you’re gonna go— as the kids say— “touch grass.” it’s gonna happen.
on the bright side, you’re never bored, he’s extremely entertaining. even if it gives you guys weird looks out in public, at least you aren’t frowning! you’re just having a good time.
if anything you’re going to get a good break, but when you get back that work is still going to be there, that’s a guarantee.
#mod engie#tf2 x reader#tf2 scout x reader#scout x reader#tf2 engineer x reader#engineer x reader#tf2 medic x reader#medic x reader
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Toddler was sick over the weekend. So I spent the last couple days tending to him and worrying about him. And being clung to, climbed on, cleaning up various bodily fluids from the child, from the floor, from myself. Doing laundry and giving baths. Checking fever and sneaking tylenol into chocolate milk. Trying to keep him entertained and distracted.
He's fine though, it was just a relatively minor cold or something.
And ofc he gets to stay home from preschool today so he could sleep in and make sure he's over the virus.
And then husband is like, 'now that he's sleeping you can get some cleaning done.'
Do men ever fucking listen to themselves. No you fucking dumbass, I am also going to sleep, because I did not get to rest at all during the weekend. Fuck the house. Fuck everything.
#life stuff#kill me#i dont even have the will left to fight over it#im just another idiot who walked into a trap and got stuck in domestic slavery#and he had the audacity to tell me to 'not let him be on his tablet all day'#when i was trying to get five minutes to breathe and eat something#well theres an easy solution to that! you're his father#you can entertain him for an hour or two!#but of course he cant even do that#fuckhead
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instead of grinding for finals i lost hours to a one piece wiki spiral
#IT ALL STARTED...WITH CP9S INDEPENDENT REPORT#in the most predictable fashion. ive yet again fallen for the “dangerous murder bot villains are actually a found family and genuinely care#for one another“#PLSSS THE WAY THEY ALL WORKED SO HARD TO EARN THE MONEY TO TREAT LUCCI#thinking so hard about how they are one collecfive unit. they move together they work travel live thrive together#giggled so hard at kaku giraffe slide#SOEAKING OF WHICH I JUST LEARNED KAKU IS THE YOUNGEST OUT OF CP9#HE WAS 18 WHEN THEY PLANTED HIM AND THE OTHERS IN WATER 7#im not ok im ripping my pillow to shreds punchjng the wall screaming shaking good GOD DJFJ#KALIFAS DAD WAS IN THE PREV GEN OF CP9????? SO SHES RRALLY BEEN THERE THROUGH IT ALL#thinking about lucci and jabra and blueno trio...#yes i originally was devastated to discover my favourite shipwrifjts were actually undercover government assassins but like#the found family.....maybe not found family but FORGED FAMILY THEY MADE IT WORK#i still think it's so silly that. kaku is the youngest but hes second ij terms od power and he speaks like an old man#in my ideal world cp9 brutally murders spandam and they live their best lives after doijg whatever#attention span for stats and cs??? nonexistent#but yea sure i can spend 2 hours memorizing the key detaisl from the wiki entries of all cp9 agents and making a chart and timeline#maybe this is a sign...that i need to fix this before it causes bigger issues#rambling about stuff#wait omg no last thought is how when all the cp9 members reunite after 5 years and firsg thing they do is immediately check their doriki#and jabras upset by how both lucci ajd kakus are higher than his now but then u think about how hes the oldest in their group#heck five years ago when they were sent off to water 7 those two were 23 and FUCKIJG 18 YEARS OLD#OF COURSE HES UPSET THESE TWO FUCKING KIDS ARE STRONGEE THAN HIM#who holds seniority over them. im actually devastated and extremely entertained#the last time u see the youngest of your group hes some 18 year old kid you could best in a spar. maybe even leave some words of wisdom for#then he goes and leanrs how to build ships for 5 years and comes back stronger than u#they are a family to me... HE COULD HAVE ABANDONED TJEM?!?! THEM ALL HAD THE CHOICE OF LEAVING THE OTHERS BEHIND TO SAVE THEMSELVES#BUT THEY DIDNT. HE STILL GAVE KALIFA HIS SHIRT AND CARRIED KAKU ON HIS BACK ALL THE WAY TO ST POPLAR#biting my hands hitting the wall scratchijg the floors screaming shakijg not normal about these guys#THE WAY JABRA HAS A PET CHICKEN TO COUJTER HATTORI
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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞
❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞
✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,
✧ wc: 8,271
“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,”
Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines.
And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk.
Just as they were now.
“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,”
“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,”
Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers.
And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost.
He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice.
“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded.
“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink.
“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“
“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath.
One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar.
He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,”
You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box, “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does.
“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,”
A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,”
He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?”
“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets.
“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,”
You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out.
And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did.
No matter how hard you try.
“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,”
And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it.
“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips.
“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects you.
You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.
“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?”
“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit.
“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves.
“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?”
“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?”
And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation.
“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“
He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“
“You asked me to hang out—“
“And we kissed—“
“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,”
“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more.
“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach.
“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?”
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“
“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“
“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle.
“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“
“It doesn’t have to be,”
“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home, “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks.
“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist.
Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh.
You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart.
“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“
“Sweetheart-“ and you snap.
“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,”
“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch.
Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say.
“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,”
“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“
“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?”
“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go.
“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t).
“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now.
“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?”
“You’re impossible—“
“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,”
You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek.
“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?”
“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“
“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead.
“Why weren’t you?”
And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date.
“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“
And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”
“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“
“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”
Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him.
His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse.
“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“
“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?”
“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“
And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles.
“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.
And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“
“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,”
And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?”
Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,”
“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door.
And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment.
“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door.
“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“
“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,”
“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand.
“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips.
“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,”
“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss.
You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place.
“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin.
“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?”
“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown.
“I know I’ve made mistakes—“
You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,”
He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“
You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,”
“I—“
“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,”
Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“
“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,”
You stare at him, “What do you mean?”
He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,”
“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head.
“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“
“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat.
He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“
“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,”
“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin.
“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,”
“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him.
And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?”
“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you.
Your lips curl, “Good boy.”
“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,”
You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand.
“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,”
“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?”
And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more.
“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself.
And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“
“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue.
“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,”
“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length.
“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you.
And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off.
Fuck.
With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat.
“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips.
“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps.
You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean.
“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“
“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,”
The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige.
His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders.
“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?”
He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,”
“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,”
“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?”
And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“
“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,”
“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs.
“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily.
Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place.
“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,”
“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly.
You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices.
“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?”
“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh.
“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,”
“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“
He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t.
“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper.
A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then,
“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?”
“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“
He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“
“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart.
“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you.
“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets.
And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?”
He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,”
His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,”
And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door.
Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?”
Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night.
“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you.
“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling.
“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo.
Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on.
He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin.
You had turned him down last night when he asked,
“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,”
“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again.
And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?
He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?”
Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“
“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,”
Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“
“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body.
A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.”
And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes, “who was it?”
He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,”
“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?”
“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?”
“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.”
✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)
✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo x reader#gojo fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru smut#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk gojo
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Are You A Chick?!
artist: @kcokaine_ on twt
Synopsis: Gojo gets turned into a woman for a few hrs and reader nd him get down to fun activities ^-^
Pairing: Fem!Gojo x Fem!Reader
Content: established relationship, unexplained gender bending, GOJUSSY :D , wlw, use of his/her regarding gojo, fingering (f gojo receiving), oral (f gojo receiving), squirting (gojo), SCISSORING🤩✂️, dirty talk, god I love women
MDNI
You were lying on your shared bed, bored, scrolling on your phone, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from work. You were about to call him to ask why he was so late. Only you heard the front door of your apartment opening- bolting off the bed to greet him at the door.
Halting your steps when you saw a smaller version of Satoru standing in the kitchen.
Wearing the now oversized clothes you saw Satoru leave the apartment in that morning. You squint your eyes, scanning his face and noticing it was much softer.
His jawline not half as sharp, poutier lips and a smaller nose- his face looked so similar, only it had a more feminine look to it. His eyes were the only thing that stayed the same- big and adorned with thick white lashes.
“Don’t say a word.” Satoru spoke- his voice a higher pitch and with a suede purr.
You furrowed your eyebrows, seeing Satoru reach out a much smaller hand than you expected- “Are you a chick?” you parted your lips- amused at how the blush started to rise on your boyfriend’s cheeks.
Satoru huffed- a bitchy sigh with his hip popped slightly. “It’ll only last for a few hours.” you huffed- entertained at the feminine voice Gojo spoke in.
Though he was usually taller and broader, his clothes were too large for his now more petite frame.
You darted your eyes down to her chest- Small pebbles peaked beneath Gojo’s tshirt, his small breasts forming two tents beneath the fabric. Widening your eyes and realizing that this was real.
“Can I touch them?” you asked, the corners of your lip curled up- thinking about how sensitive Satoru was generally. You wanted to discover how sensitive your boyfriend was in a woman’s body.
Satoru scoffed- sounding just like you’d expect him to as a woman, bitchy and bordering on a bimbo tone.
Your boyfriend shook off the oversized jacket- showing you just how much smaller he was now.
Gojo furrowed his eyebrows- small and effortlessly perfect, pushing out her tits and looking at you with a pouty glossed lip.
You reached your hands out eager to feel your boyfriends breasts. “Should I be concerned that the first thing you wanna do when I get home is feel me up?” Gojo laughed- a soft giggle coming from her throat.
Scoffing as you placed your hands beneath Gojo’s braless tits, “If I came home the opposite gender- what would the first thing you do be?” you scoffed, Parting your lips and grabbing what you could from her chest.
Perky and no bigger than an A cup. But her tits filled your palms perfectly.
Your thumb took an exploratory swipe at the little bud formed beneath the t-shirt. Earning a light, pretty huff from Satoru’s lips, flashing your eyes back up at him with a glimmer circling your pupil.
You raised your eyebrows- a greedy smile forming on your lips at all the thoughts that raced through your mind. “Can I fuck you?” You grinned, watching the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen.
It took very little for Gojo’s lips to snap to yours- feeling the petite woman before you trying to take the reins from your hands- but all it took was one little grope at her ass to make Gojo compliant.
Guiding Satoru back into your bedroom with your hands roaming beneath the hem of his shirt- grasping at the soft skin beneath the fabric with pretty whimpers falling from her lips onto yours.
Pulling away from Satoru’s lips when you settled him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Her lips pulled to the side, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving them as Satoru looked up at you. “Why does it feel like you’re more into this than normal?” Your gender-bent boyfriend bitched at you as you slipped off your shirt.
Placing your hands onto the sides of Satoru’s chunky cheeks, pressing soft kisses onto the puffy lips of her face and guiding her to scooch up the bed.
You grinned, placing your hands on the edge of Gojo’s shirt. “What does it feel like?” changing the conversation as you pulled Satoru’s shirt off his body. Hanging your mouth open and seeing the sight before you.
Not in a million years could you picture the portrait that was painted before you.
Satoru’s bottom lip pouted, a roaming blush forming on her chest and pink hardened nipples greeting you.
“Feels like I’m gettin’ pawed at.” Satoru scoffed, pressing her lips back onto yours and feeling your hands rest on his hips, dipping your fingers beneath the band of the oversized sweats and rolling them off. Feeling Satoru’s hands mimic the movement on your own bottoms.
Only this time- compared to the hundreds of others, Satoru’s hands had a soft, delicate touch.
Satoru had you pinned as he naturally did, on your back and your legs spread with her hips resting between them. Satoru tugged your bottoms off as his delicate lips moved against yours.
Feeling Gojo do the same, leaving him bare and waiting for something to happen- trying to recall what he usually does whenever he isn’t a woman- trailing his smaller hands from your side to your inner thigh.
You scoffed- “This isn’t about me ‘toru.” you smiled, pulling his hands from your thigh and intertwining your fingers with her slim ones. Looking at the soft expression your boyfriends feminized face held.
“You don’t wanna know what it feels like for me?” you grinned, trailing the tips of your fingers against her rib cage- causing a shuddering exhale to leave his lips.
Satoru bit her lip, feeling the warmth between her legs twitch from your offer.
You trailed your hand between her thighs, reaching the drenched center Satoru had ignored between his legs till now.
Watching her mouth inhale sharply, batting his white eyelashes closed as you lightly traced your middle and ring finger against her core.
It took very little for Gojo to straddle your thighs, leaning an arm back and planting it on your calf. Giving you an unobstructed view of your boyfriends pretty, glistening cunt.
As pretty and leaky as his cock was- this gave you a different kind of shiver down your spine from how fucking gorgeous he looked right now.
Your hands rubbing softly on Satoru’s thighs, looking up to her shy expression.
Satoru was a talker typically- teasing and being able to act on his horny threats just to make you blush. But now Satoru held her tongue, shy eyes avoiding your gaze. And squirming at the light grips you’d make against his thighs.
And when her hips had ground down- instinctively as though you had cock for him.
Or when your hands finally reached his pale inner thighs- you swore you could hear a slight shudder take the shape of a whimper leave Gojo’s throat. The prettiest sound you had yet to hear from him.
He would let out pretty sounds generally, but this- this was something different. More defined, and less throaty. Almost as angelic as the pretty white lashes fanning over Satoru’s blushing cheeks.
His hand urging you with a light squeeze at your thigh. When you finally traced the pad of your thumb against the little glistening pearl that you had neglected for what felt like an eternity to Satoru;
As though it was unwillingly, tossing her head back with a nibbled lip. Even the curve of her neck was fucking pretty.
Dissolving into the feeling of your gentle thumb against his clit. His grip against your thigh turned to a squeeze with urge as you made more teasing circles against him with a hand on his pale thigh.
Between a breathy moan, Satoru looked back to you- “It’s unfair that you get to feel this all the time.” she huffed as you applied a little more pressure to the sensitive nub.
“Just wait till I make you cum-” you huffed with a smile, watching Satoru’s effeminate face churn with pinched eyebrows at your words.
You raised your hand from his thigh- placing it flat, right where his womb would be. “Do you feel it building right here?” you asked in a murmur, looking up at your pretty boyfriend with amazed eyes.
Satoru only nodded quickly- her plush lip tucked between pearly teeth and eyes closed. Your thumb making hastier circles and watching Satoru’s chest heave with eyes full of wonder.
Your hand traced to her bent hip, lightly squeezing at the malleable skin and watching the face Satoru made as you drew an orgasm out of her. The tips of your ring and middle finger circling at the taut entrance that seeped nectar.
Satoru gasped when the pad of your thumb caught the very tip of his clit. Snapping one of his slender hands onto your shoulder as a brace. And your lips being right at the level of his perky tits- your lips parted and latched onto the puffy pink nipple on her chest.
The whimpers that left Gojo’s throat were far too genuine- knowing how unashamed he was about them normally, the ones he let out now would be equally as unashamed.
Satoru’s lips parted in a small ‘o’- stuttering over every other moan as your thumb rubbed harsher circles against him. Your tongue lapped at the pebble of her nipple, sucking harshly to draw more pretty sounds from her lips.
Gojo tried- she tried warning that they were cumming. As though some kind of mess would spew from him as it usually did. Only your hands didn’t care- neither did your relentless lips.
With a choked moan- Satoru held his breath. His cunt clenching around nothing as the tips of your fingers felt the twitching his entrance made- as though she was trying to suck them in.
Your eyes looked up at the pretty sight before you- parting your lips and throwing your head back. Watching with amazed eyes at the pale, shuddering shoulders that were graced with light goosebumps.
Satoru’s eyebrows were lightly pinched, and her puffy lips parted- finally releasing the air trapped in his lungs with a pretty moan.
Giving him a few seconds to shake off the aftershocks of his very first orgasm as a woman. Satoru trailed her hands to the side of your head, caressing gently and looking down with a peaked corner at her lip.
“So unfair-” he whispered, leaning down and pressing a lazy kiss onto your lips as his hips ground down to your fingers. Your thumb made little to no movements as Satoru’s hips urged your fingers to press inside.
And as bitchy and needy as he was as a man- You knew not to deny Satoru this now.
Isolating your middle finger and pressing against Satoru’s soaked, taut entrance- a whimper between a breath leaving his throat and rumbling onto your lips. Lightly curling your finger until you hit a little nudge inside him.
The little prod making Satoru pull away from you with a soft whine. Both of his hands now on your neck and arm- trying to find soothing in whatever his hands could grip.
“More,” Satoru whimpered into the air between you- a high pitched upturn ending her plea. Your lips latched onto hers- drawing your finger from her soft walls and pressing it to the neighboring finger.
Lazily kissing at the corner of her mouth, trailing kisses down to Satoru’s softer jaw. Pressing both of your fingers past her entrance- “So tight-” you murmured, feeling resistance from her walls as her hands gripped harder.
Clearer whimpers and moans, leaving her throat at the light sting, your lips kissing down her neck- trying to find the sweet spot Satoru always allowed you to exploit.
And when the tips of both of your fingers reached that same spot from earlier, the moan that left Satoru’s lips bordered on guttural- a high-pitched inhale followed as your lips found the sensitive spot of her neck.
Suckling at the pale skin as your palm pressed flush against her clit. Satoru’s eyes fluttered shut as his hips started moving back and forth. Unashamedly rutting his cunt against the arch of your palm as your fingers lightly bumped into her gspot.
Your lips formed a smile against Gojo’s skin- grateful of how pretty she sounded, almost like a hymn to your ears. Even more with the light squelches of his cunt frotting against your hand.
Reaching your hand up her ribcage that flared with every sharp inhale she made. Lightly cupping her breast with a teasing thumb on the hardened nipple.
It was too much for Satoru- overstimulating himself as his hips moved without instruction from his brain. The tingle of Satoru’s own gluttony formed in his spine as your thumb took a few soft swipes at his nipple.
“M’gonna cum again-” she whimpered, as though it was you moving her hips against your palm. You pulled your lips from her collarbone with a smile.
“Go ahead.” you instructed, tone far too deep and overindulgent as Gojo’s hips moved quicker- frotting her leaking cunt against you with a whimper.
It was as though the pearly gates of heaven opened for Satoru as he felt another orgasm wave over her petite shoulders, his cunt clenching around your fingers. Barely able to keep his posture as she rode herself down- greedy hums leaving Satoru’s lips as you kissed at her chest.
Using the hand on her hip to guide her to keel onto her side- landing on the bed with a pleased smile. Rolling onto her back as your lips planted gentle kisses on her sternum.
Soft hums leave his lips as your hands spread his thighs. Tilting her head to the side and watching your shoulders rest between her flawless thighs. Placing a hand to the top of your head as your lips kissed at her thighs.
“You’re so greedy~” Satoru hummed as your lips dampened small circles on her thighs- close to her glistening cunt, but still so fucking far.
You let out a soft laugh, “I’m greedy?” softly caressing his outer thighs as she nodded against the pillows. Excitement reeling behind her cerulean eyes- so eager to know what it feels like to receive head as a woman.
And as though her hand was urging you to finally kiss somewhere other than her thighs- you made a light lick from her perfectly displayed cunt up to her clit with a shuddering sigh leaving her lips. A groan left your lips at her flavor- as sweet as you expected her to taste.
Your hands held Satoru’s hips, keeping them spread with her feet planted harshly against the bed. Your tongue made a few more kitten licks at her clit- hearing the desperation in every whimper that left her lips.
Taking one of your hands and aligning it with her entrance again- right below your chin and slowly pushing them in. Your lips connect with the base of her clit with your tongue lightly swirling against the puffy nub.
Your fingers moving with ease now- his cumt stretched just enough for you to start pumping your fingers. Satoru swore that his eyes would cross had he held them open- so he closed them.
Thralling his head back into the pillows with a throaty moan- the hand on his hip moving up her side- gripping at Satoru’s breast with a light squeeze.
Gojo’s back arching against the bed as your fingers prodded against her gspot. The whispers of overstimulation roaming up her spine once more as she felt another orgasm build in her womb.
Only this time it felt different- His moans far too loud as your tongue made relentless swirls against her clit- your fingers bumping into her gspot at the perfect angle.
“Wait-” Satoru inhaled sharply, his hips bucking up into your mouth as the knot in her tummy tightened. Nodding her head quickly as she fisted the sheets- knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping.
You looked up at Gojo, furrowed eyebrows and parted lips greeting you as Satoru whimpered. Threats of ‘I’m gonna—’ left her lips as you continued the mean movements.
Satoru sat up slightly with a groan- your palm filling with spurts of liquid as your fingers continued.
Loud mewls leaving Gojo’s throat as your mouth refused to stop- making sure to drain Satoru as the sides of your face became drenched with his squirt.
“J-jesus fucking chri-” she called out in an exhale- her hips stuttering against your lips as you slowed your fingers.
And when you finally got your fill, Satoru’s hands cupped the sides of your face and pulled you back up to him. A light moan vibrating onto your lips as she kissed you. Tasting her own slick and essence on your lips with every swipe her tongue made against yours.
Your hands groping at her thighs as Satoru pulled away from your lips- looking into your eyes with urgency.
“Fuck me baby, please-” She whimpered into the air, desperately needing to feel you. In any way she could.
You pressed your lips onto hers again, feeling her hand roam down to your bottom and give you a squeeze, the other cupping at your breast- noting that even as a woman, Satoru had wandering hands.
In the split second after Satoru begged you to fuck her- you thought to the how. No strap- no toys at your disposal- but then you thought of the closest thing.
Rolling over with Satoru in your hands- leaving you on your back with one of Satoru’s knees planted beneath your thigh. The other straddled atop your other leg.
Completely tangled between limbs as you pulled your lips from hers- Your bare cunt and his threatening to touch as she looked at you with curious eyes.
You placed your hands onto her hips, looking into her bleary, cerulean eyes and guiding her down. A little whimper leaves your lips at the sudden contact of her cunt against yours.
It took very little for Satoru to get the hint- planting her hands onto your sides and straightening her back.
Taking a small nibble at her lip at the feeling of your clits bumping against each other. Looking down and watching at the small grinds he made- a small giggle laced with a moan leaving her lips. “Ffffuck, It’s like we’re kissing~” she grinned, causing you to let out a small laugh with an eye roll.
Satoru reached for the back of your thigh with one hand, pinning it up slightly to give her a better access and a better view.
Gojo tried starting at a slow pace- but the warmth radiating from your cunt onto his was undeniably tantalizing.
Small moans fell from her lips as she started making unpatterned, sloppy thrusts against you. Uncaring if it wasn’t right- only that it felt good when his clit would bump against yours and the mixing slick of both your cunts making the filthiest shlops and squelches made him even more wet.
Her tits bounced with every desperate thrust she made against you, your hands holding a bruising grip at her pale hips, following every grind she would make against you.
And when Satoru’s thighs started burning from the frantic movements- your hands led her hips into the frotting. Through gritted teeth- “Right here ‘toru-” you mumbled, Satoru taking over for your hands and humping against that very spot.
Her face churned with pure, undiscovered pleasure as the mixed slick made it easier to glide against you.
Shared moans reverberated off the walls before Satoru leaned down to connect her lips with yours, her breasts pressing against yours harshly. Keeping the same quick pace against your linked cunts.
His tongue slotting against yours sloppily as moans rumbled against each other- hands gripping at anything they could find with his clit grinding against your own neglected one. Building your own orgasm as you hummed against Gojo’s lips.
One of your hands on her plump ass- gripping harshly with the other on her hip- and Satoru’s were gripping for dear life at your plush thighs- working himself through the overstimulation with soft groans against your lips.
Splitting the kiss with a loud whimper- desperate hips rutting against you at an unbelievable pace as you felt the knot in your tummy threaten to come undone- “I’m cummin-” she whimpered before pressing her lips back onto yours.
Your eyes tightened as Satoru worked you past an orgasm, back arching against the bed as Satoru crossed the finish line with you. Squirting whatever was left inside of her against your cunt.
Huffing heavily through her nose as her hips slowed- Satoru’s grip on your thighs loosening as she felt the aftershocks roll through her shoulders.
Easing your thigh down and feeling Gojo rest her body weight atop yours- just like he did when he was a man. Her lips sloppily moved against yours before pulling away- hazy eyes and pressing her chest further into yours with a pout.
Your hands raised from her ass and rested on the soft skin of her back. Satoru raised her shoulders and looked into your eyes- almost troubled.
“What is it?” you mumbled, touching her cheek and caressing it softly with your thumb. Watching the pout deepen before parting his lips.
Her breasts pressed against yours- “How do you know what to do with another girl?” Satoru pouted in a sad tone. You smiled softly, nodding your head and resting back into the pillows.
“I did a lot of experimenting in college.” you hummed, Satoru following you and rubbing her nipples against yours unknowingly.
Your eyes flashed down to your connected chests- “You’ll still like me when I become- me again, right?” She spoke softly- shy and stark in comparison to how he usually was.
You pinched your eyebrows- “Course I will ‘toru-” pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “I can’t wait till you're back to normal.” you mumbled. Looking at the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen at your declaration.
Satoru let out a dreamy sigh, squinting and looking down to where your eyes kept flashing. “S’like we’re kissing.” you smiled with a mumble, a small giggle leaving Satoru’s lips.
She sighed, leaning her head back down to your shoulder, “Dunno how you get anything done if that’s what it feels like every time.” Satoru mumbled, closing her eyes and placing a hand on the side of your face.
A half-laugh left your throat, “I would be all over you 24/7 if I was a chick.” he hummed, legs tangled against each other as your hand rubbed small circles at her back.
“God knew not to make you a woman, you’d cause too much trouble,” you murmured, hearing a half conscious hum leave Satoru’s lips as she drifted to sleep atop you.
That night you fell asleep with your girlfriend in your arms- soft, dainty and bare in your hands. Breathing softly with a feminine tinge in every exhale she made.
And you woke up with your broad, far too heavy boyfriend in your arms. His exhales taking their usual throaty tone when he breathed them against your skin.
Either or- it was still your Satoru. No matter what form he took, he was still yours.
-
(a.n) this was so hot, I love woman, and gojussy. by the time you're reading this, ill be watching a medieval tournament👍🏽
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru fic#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru#jjk#gojo x chubby reader#fem!gojo
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♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷
Expect a lot of objectification.
Manhandling, too.
And wolf whistling.
It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.
More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.
Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.
You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.
Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.
Dumbification Central.
“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."
They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.
He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.
They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’
They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.
The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.
They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).
Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.
More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.
“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”
Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.
Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.
He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.
He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.
He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.
“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”
Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).
He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.
“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”
He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.
“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”
Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.
And you’re no exception.
Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.
Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.
As do they all.
They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.
There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.
“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”
He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.
Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.
“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”
You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.
Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.
You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.
You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
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#cod#cod x reader#cod smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost#ghost cod#konig x reader#konig smut#ghost mw2#john price#john price smut#captain john price smut#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#Credit to @chaefilm & @arleculus for the dividers
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Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.
You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.
Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.
"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.
"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.
"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.
You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.
Almost.
"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.
"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."
You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."
He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.
"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.
Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.
"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."
He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.
"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."
Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.
"I can pick you up."
"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.
"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.
It made you feel sick.
It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.
7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.
7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.
At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.
If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.
John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.
Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.
"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"
"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.
Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.
"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"
"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.
"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.
"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.
"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.
Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.
"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.
"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"
"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."
"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."
"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."
"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.
He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.
He's nervous.
You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.
He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?
"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"
"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."
"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.
"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?
"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"
"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."
When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"
"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"
"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.
The two of you never went back.
"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."
"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."
"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."
He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."
"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."
"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."
You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.
"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."
"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.
He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."
Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.
"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.
Not even for yourself, but for him.
For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.
You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.
Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.
You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.
"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."
"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."
The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.
"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."
"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.
"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.
"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f
"It wasn't a-" you started.
"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."
"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"
"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."
"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.
"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."
"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"
"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.
"You act like he's my guard dog."
"He is."
"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.
"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.
"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."
"He's not." you said again.
"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.
"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.
"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."
"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.
"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."
Why would you hate yourself for it?
"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."
"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.
"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."
"Well someone had to." You countered.
"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.
"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.
He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.
"Fuck." He muttered.
"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.
He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.
"You never did that with Simon."
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#angst#john soap mactavish#angst with a happy ending#grovel
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The Last Laugh
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival.
This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.
warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?)
words: 5,3k
a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it
...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...
"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."
The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?
According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?
"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."
"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"
Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."
"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"
"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."
She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"
"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."
"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"
Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."
She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."
Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"
She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."
Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."
"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."
"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."
Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."
Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."
She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.
Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.
"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."
Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."
That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?
Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.
She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.
"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.
A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"
"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"
Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."
Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"
Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."
She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.
Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.
"This must be hard for you," he commented.
"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.
"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."
Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."
"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"
Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"
She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"
She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.
She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.
"Should I help you jog your memory back?"
Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."
His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"
She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.
She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."
His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"
"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"
"We could share the bed."
She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"
"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."
He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."
Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."
She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"
"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.
"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.
Shit.
"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."
"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."
"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."
"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"
Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.
"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."
"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."
Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.
Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.
It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.
"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."
"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.
Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.
Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.
Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.
"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"
Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.
"Beg me."
She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.
"Beg me."
"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.
"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."
And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.
He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.
With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.
If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.
Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.
"W-What are you doing?"
There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.
"Taking matters into my own hands."
Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.
"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."
Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.
"But I can satisfy myself just fine."
And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.
With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."
Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.
He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.
She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.
He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.
"Spencer," she moaned.
That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.
"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."
A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.
His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.
When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.
It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.
"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.
But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.
"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."
He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"
Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.
And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.
"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.
"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."
He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.
He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.
Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.
"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."
Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.
Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.
Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.
The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.
She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.
She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.
But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm.
He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.
"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"
"Inside."
He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"
She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.
"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."
It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.
With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.
Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.
"Well that was—"
She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."
Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."
His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."
She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"
"I feel sticky too."
"Spencer."
His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."
She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."
"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless.
"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."
He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.
Not that she was complaining.
.
a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute
.
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Hi! Would it be possible for you to write one where he’s pushing down on her stomach and he can feel himself inside her?
18+ NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Stomach Buldge, Hints of Overstimulation, Squirting, Creampie, Reader Passes Out (Miguel Continues), Somnophilia/CNC, Breeding Kink
Enjoy, loves!
"Miggy! 'S too much!"
Your wobbly sob completely fills the room, but it doesn't look like it even reaches Miguel. His eyes are trained to your fluttering cunt, hypnotized by the way your pretty pussy swallows and flutters around his thick cock. A foamy ring of cream sticks to his base, and he can feel it dripping down his balls as the gravity of his thrusts makes it slowly trickle down. Your skin is soft and dented where his hands eagerly grasp onto your hips to pull your weak body back onto him.
He can see the recoil of your skin as his pelvis rapidly slams against yours with inhuman speed, both of you knowing your thighs will be sore come morning. A thin layer of sweat coats both of your bodies, damp hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks. You've been moaning and crying so prettily for him over the past two hours, painting his cock with your precious cum. You should be fucking bloated from the two loads he pumped into you, but he can see how it seeps out from your hole as his cock slams into your gummy cervix.
But his favorite sight of the whole night, excluding the way your face looks when your eyes roll back as you gush around his dick, is the fucking buldge that raises in your stomach everytime he pushes his cock into your tiny cunt. It has him fucking drooling, desperately speeding his thrusts up so he can watch the way it reappears and disappears. You might be too fucked out to register anything, but Miguel sure as hell doesn't entertain even the idea of letting this go unnoticed.
"Pussy was made t'take thick fucking cock, hm?" He asks, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from the raised skin to look out you.
Your eyes are droopy, mouth dropped open with a series of moans as you weakly nod your head. Your face is completely flushed, and Miguel knows your cockdrunk mind didn't process a word he just said.
"Wanna see baby?"
You answer with another high-pitched keen, your eyes fluttering shut as you desperately grab at the sheets to stabalize yourself against Miguel’s thrusts. Miguel has to pry your hand away from the sheet, his teeth gritted as he takes it and places it over your stomach. You let out a squeal the same time he moans once he presses your hand down with his. You get impossibly tighter around him as he presses the buldge down onto his cock. He can barely move his cock out of you like this, and pleasure spikes through his spine as you twist and turn to get away from the newfound wave of pleasure. Miguel grunts, teeth gritting as he presses harder against your stomach to keep you still.
"Stop running away, not done fucking this pretty pussy."
Your thighs kick out around his shoulders, trying to push his body away from yours as you feel pleasure burning through your body to your twitchy clit. Your whole body is shaking with his rough thrusts, and you try to pull your hand out from under his to take away from the pleasure. Miguel can feel his balls tightening with a release, but he tries to hold it off as soon as possible. Before anything else happens, he wants to know how it feels like to have you milk his cock dry with his buldge glued to your walls.
He shifts, angling his hips up so his tip pokes out your walls and his buldge slams into the palm of your hand. You fucking scream at the feeling, your body spasming before it locks. Miguel moans as your pretty juices spray from your cunt, drenching his stomach and thighs with your squirt. Your body shakes violently as your cunt pulsates around him, and Miguel’s eyes roll back as his cock twitches and thick globs of cum fill your cunt for the third time tonight.
His hips still as his balls empty, his breathing harsh as he slowly eases up the pressure on the buldge of your stomach. You let out a little whimper of relief, your eyelids slowly fluttering closed until your breaths even out, and your body goes limp. Fucking hell. Didn't know it would be that good.
Slowly, Miguel pulls his hips back. He hums as your walls drag over his length as he pulls out. A small pop sounds as his tip escapes, the sunction of your cunt disappearing. It isn't soon after that a combination of your and his release trickles out of your fluttering hole, coating your cunt in more cum. Miguel groans as he wraps a hand around his sticky, still-hard cock. He gentlly pushes his cum back into your hole, fucking you with his tip.
He'll be damned if he doesn't have your stomach bulging with his baby after this.
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