thinking about giving him a lap dance and when you turn your head around to give them a dreamy smile, they grab you by the hips and pull you down so you’re sitting on their bulge. they bury their face in your neck and kiss you there and tell you with a groan look at what you do to me, baby as they grind your ass against their hard cock
you sink down on his cock and he immediately buries his face into the side of your neck and groans, thumb sneaking in between your body & his to rub your clit. and his other hand cradles your head as you moan that he feels so good. you don’t know where he begins and you end
men who knead your thighs and hip as you sit on their lap with their big hands as you slick their hair back and tell them about your day. who get so hard when you kiss their forehead and tell them you have to go shower. who don’t let you go and fuck you on the couch — deep, thoroughly, filled with love
getting on your knees to kiss his bulge through his pants <3 you look up at him with starry eyes and a dreamy smile and he groans because you literally make his cock twitch in anticipation with just a look and a cute little kiss. then you take his cock out & he’s already leaking
Imagine him accidentally? or more like mindlessly eating 'that' chocolate you stored in the fridge, which unbeknownst to him is an 'aphrodisiac' and is supposed to be your prank gift to ur friend. And the consequences 😩
curiosity...fucked satoru? | GOJO. S
c.w: switch! satoru, fem!reader, dirty talk, riding, cursing, consumption of an aphordisiac chocolate.
note: happy kinktober to my satoru fuckers<3
"what's the matter, toru? you're acting a bit...off."
there was a certain vibe in the house whenever satoru was around. loud, random videos playing with the audio half cut off because he is scrolling too fast. but there wasn't any of that when you woke up from your nap, instead, your boyfriend was lying on the couch with his arm over his face.
"I don't know, I think I'm sick," he sounds so out of breath and your frown deepens as you sit on the little bit of space left on the couch. your hand naturally rests under his shirt to trace his stomach--perhaps he had something that gave him a tummy ache?
but the way satoru flinches at your touch--or rather shudders has you staring at him weirdly as his hand grabs your wrist almost as though fire has come in contact with his skin.
"you're...hot, satoru do you have a fever?" your hand goes up to his arm to remove it from his face and his pale face was flushed a deep red color. there were sweat beads trickling down the side of his face, red and swollen lips that were wet from how much he was licking them. something was wrong.
"what did you do?" you whisper in concern and the groan he lets out at how soft your voice sounds before pushing you away further has you in a deeper state of confusion.
"I don't know--fuck, please--" he whines and the hand that once pushed you away was now pulling you closer to him.
"touch me, I am so fucking hard it's so painful," his hand shamelessly rests your own on top of his bulge anf you're surprised at how rock solid it is.
"you... you want me to suck you off?"
"fuck, none of that shit," his hand pulls at your shirt. "need you to ride me, come on baby I need to feel that pussy around me," the way in which he pushes his pants down and his cock hits his stomach, the way he ushers you to get on top of him--you don't even need him to prep you, you were already soaked at this rare sight of needy gojo satoru.
"yeah...I can do that," you whisper to yourself and first start to grind over his cock. your clit bruhses over the tip of his sensitive dick and almost cries out at the contact. your hands rest on his chest and you push up his shirt. leaning down, your lips make contact with his chest and he swore he saw heaven for a bit.
"you're so sensitive, satoru," you whisper against his chest.
"f-fuck, I need you," he gasps when you bite at his skin. "I fucking need you, do something--!"
you push his cock past your folds, your thighs holding you up before sinking down on him and the look on your boyfriend's face could only be described as one of bliss. his jaw goes slack at the contact, fingers twitching and unsure of what to hold onto before settling on your hips and you start to bounce on him.
"shit--shit--! fuck, oh my god," a series of profanities find their way out of his red lips the more you bounce on his cock, the fucked out look on his face along with how pliable he was underneath you were enough motivation for you to go harder.
satoru has to grib onto the couch for a moment when you slow down to take him deeper inside you. he feels your arousal trickling down his balls, the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs and the wetness--fuck, his eyes roll to the back of his head.
his body feels hot, his veins feel as though they are about to burst with the intense euphoria--he remembers when he first felt like this, when he first touched himself as a teenager, when he discovered what masturbation was. he feels embarrassed, the noises spilling out of his mouth were pornographic, but he couldn't stop staring at you.
you looked godly--his savior, your pussy was quenching his thirst, you were giving him this gift of riding him within an inch of his life and god he was so grateful for it--for you.
"come on baby, come on," you whisper to him and he isn't used to this, he isn't used to being guided to his orgasm first. but he can't focus, he can't think of anything else--he's lost control over his voice and he feels himself tip over the edge of an orgasm.
he comes crashing down in violent waves, his hips bucking up and fucking up into you desperately, asking for more. he thanks you over and over again and the grip that he has over your hips is harsh but you could care less when you have him looking this disheveled.
"more, need more," he is mumbling to himself as he pushes you off of him and you notice that his dick is still hard.
"wait satoru--!"
"oh baby, oh fuck baby," he sits up and pulls you closer to him. your chests are pressed against one another and you don't have time to brace yourself for the hard and fast thrusts that he gives you.
gojo was an unstoppable force. whatever triggered this must've been too much because he was panting, burying his face in your chest and groaning about how delicious your pussy is.
"fucking pussy taking me so well, fuuuck you're so wet, just listen to yourself," his hand comes up to the back of your head and he grips a bit of your hair. the submissive side of him was long gone, tossed out of the window and replaced with a satoru that knew what he wanted, and was going to get it (or give it to you) even if it made him pass out.
"your hear that? pussy sounds so delicious, she's begging for my mouth--would you like that?" you can't even respond, moans and cries mixing up together because your own orgasm was approaching.
"oh yeah baby, you would like that. you've always liked my mouth sucking on that clit--shit, I'm so close," he is a blabbering mess at this point, mouth attached to your neck. your walls flutter around him and you feel him fuck up into you a bit more before you cum around him with a loud cry.
your body shivers and shudders on top of him, hands gripping onto his shoulders as you come face to face with the man fucking you stupid. he doesn't pull out his cock, keeps it buried inside of you and he apologizes.
"what for?" you question out of breath and feel him thrust up into you again.
"I ate that chocolate in the fridge," you gasp. "need to apologize to you properly."
his apology was going to take a while.
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
warnings . . . fem!reader, black coded, established relationship, modern au, fluff, erotic filming, mirror sex, smoking ꒰ blunt ꒱, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl position, eating each other’s faces, cuddle fuck, sloppy intimate slow nasty sex lmao, pet names, use of daddy a few times, reader creams, ichigo’s rlly in love with reader.
mocha’s note .ᐟ . . . i did it yall *cries* i finally wrote for ichigo.
ichi ♡
baby, wyd?
cupcake ♡
just got home from work ! whyyyyy? 🥺
ichi ♡
gonna take you out. i’ll be omw in thirty.
thirty? after all this time he still doesn’t understand how time consuming it is to get yourself ready to go out. definitely when you weren’t aware of where you’re going. your boyfriend didn’t give you any hint so you were unsure of how to dress. on top of that, it was nearly midnight. your late shift at the hospital draining you, and the moment you came home and kicked off your scrubs, the last thing on your mind was to get ready to go out. your bed was calling you. so close yet so far. ichigo had literally messaged you the moment you leaped out of your convertible. sucking it up just for him, you hop in the shower with no further questions. it has been a while since you’ve seen him, both equally busy.
maybe he just missed you the same and wanted to do something nice for you. or just craved to be in your presence again. weekends were really the only time the two of you were available. the sweet scent of olay white strawberry and mint body wash mixed in with the thick charcoal rag scrubbing against your skin relaxes your body to the fullest. phases by chase atlantic booms through the cream tile of your shower walls, vibrating in your ears inimically as the hot water beats down onto your skin. you made sure to leave the door unlocked for ichigo to step inside, usually welcoming himself in without letting you know. one time having to smack him for being inconsiderate even if he blamed you for leaving it unsecured. cleansing your face and then finishing with your to die for tree hut strawberry scrub, you’re wrapped up in a towel while you brush and rinse your mouth.
patting dry, you lather yourself in baby oil from head to toe, hair still caught in your shower cap. you smile down at your chubby black cat brushing up against your ankle with a silver anklet labeled with your boyfriend’s name. a gift for your first anniversary. the short feline skips behind you as you stroll through your studio to reach your bedroom, sighing to yourself because you’re suddenly stressed about what to wear. nothing could possibly be open this late to really head out for. he has to be fucking with you. what if you get all dolled up just for him to pull up to mcdonald’s? you’d be irritated, but thankful nonetheless. quality time is all that mattered. even sitting in his car listening to music would mean everything right now. a passenger princess is what he called you one time. you just loved the idea of being around him.
when he said thirty minutes, he meant it. a heavy knock on your front door before it’s pushed open alarms you instantly. sucking your teeth at his obsession with always being too early. as you’re closing the curtain that blocks your bedroom, out peaks an adorable fluff of tangerine hair from the door, a smile on that face you love so much, teeth bright as pearls.
“hey, cupcake!” ichigo chirps, closing and locking the door before he takes off his travis scott dunks, knowing you don’t allow shoes in your house. he’s picking up the cat the same time he’s glaring at your silhouette past the sheer white curtain.
he catches you slipping on a piece of clothing over your head, taking off your cap and shaking out your curly head. he respects your privacy by keeping himself from walking in there and smacking your ass as a proper greeting . . . his way of one, at least. takes a seat on the low emerald, velvet textured sectional, the animal in his arms purring as he caresses it.
“i hate you.”
it’s the first thing he hears, and it immediately has him cackling. “why? i’m taking you out, aren’t i?”
“well, yeah, but . . . you could’ve told a girl mid-shift. i would’ve had more time to plan an outfit. i can’t even do my makeup now. my hairs lifeless. it’s midnight. i worked a twelve hour shift, you know that? no consideration for me as a woman whatsoever.”
“all i’m hearing is that you’re ungrateful.”
“fuck you, carrot top!” a heavy slap following with a gust of wind is nearly enough to overshadow the low level of slow rnb. ichigo raises a brow at you, slowly licking his lips while tilting his head to the side, humming as he observes you. body clad in a white spaghetti strapped bodycon dress that accentuates all your curves, tits pushed higher due to your bra being adjusted halfway up your back. a hot pink, suede chanel bag hanging on your shoulder. big curls flowing around your face like a greek goddess. an angel.
“baby, you lookin’ good as fuck. but you're gonna be cold as a bitch.”
“why?” you frown.
“we're going to the waterfront pier.”
a cheerful gasp you bellow makes ichigo’s smile extend, your cat jumping out of his arms from the noise of you jumping up and down. “babyyyy. the birria truck is there! you remembered?”
“of fuckin’ course,” he leans back with an arm thrown behind his head, hand on his bare stomach he tucked under his white tee. ichigo swings his legs dressed in black adidas joggers inward and outward, elated from the smile still on your face as you giggle and walk around the house in search of a shoe, eyes tracing you. “they're open till 2am.”
you glance at the oval clock on your wall, pouting. “i didn't do my makeup.”
“it's one in the morning. we coming back and cuddling.”
sucking your lips in, you nod.
“now come give daddy a hug,” ichigo motions you over with his finger.
standing straight with giddy in your heart, you stroll towards him, your hips switching effortlessly, the silver chain labeled 'daddy's girl’, which you bought for yourself, dangles along with the ocean blue evil eye as you bend forward to press a kiss to your man's soft lips, the tingle from his blistex vibrating your own. he sits up with you standing between open legs, hands wrapping around the back of your thighs as he hugged you around your midsection with his cheek on your stomach.
ichigo let's out an exasperated sigh, as if he was getting into a comfortable bed after a long day, squeezing you tighter. “missed you so much, baby.”
the tips of your fingers strum through his hair as you reply, “missed you too. thank you for taking me out tonight.”
“don't thank me yet. i need to see if you'll like the food first before we decide what mood you're gonna put on.”
“are you saying i'm bipolar?”
“i'm saying you're picky.”
“correction!” you announce loudly while pointing up a finger. “specific. i like what i like.”
“i can say the same,” ichigo groans before smacking your ass with a hiss, grabbing a chunk full before shaking it in his hand.
you laugh at him and shove him away. “stop! let's go.”
“lemme jus’ . . . ” ichigo gets lost in his thoughts, your eyes widening as he reaches down to grab your calf to lift. “get a taste real quick.”
“boy!” is what you exclaim as you give his hand a firm smack, like you're popping a child for misbehaving. ichigo snickers, saying he was joking but you knew he wasn't.
by time you leave the house, it's one fifteen in the morning. the streets are partially clear for your city's night. ichigo passing you his phone to browse through his playlists, immediately going for the ‘late night drive' one which was your favourite considering you helped him pick most of the content. the windows are cracked halfway, warm air breezing your faces as he speeds down the road like an asshole in his pristine white nissan gtr, two usual hand placements; one on your inner thigh and the other gripping the steering wheel.
it's so hard not to smile like an idiot when he does that. hiding your face in your shoulder as you look up at him like a lost puppy. singing to bryson tiller’s song in check as you intake the scent of the vehicle. it smells just like him. tobacco vanille by tom ford. the opulent scent lingering onto your body whenever he hugged you long enough, or when you stole his hoodies and shirts to wear just to keep him close.
the drive wasn't long. not even twenty minutes and you were pulling up to the pier, barely packed since it was a sunday night. lots of teenagers came out around this time to smoke and since there was plenty of food available it'd help with the munchies. hand in hand, the two of you walk towards the beaming taco truck with various of color's ranging from yellows, reds, and greens. birria landia was their label. very well known and talked about business. they moved locations so you were super excited to finally get your fill on it.
ichigo has his right arm thrown over your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest where you rested and listened to his heartbeat and the rumble of his torso as he ordered your food. each order came with four quesabirria’s and a side of consommé, totaling fourteen dollars each which was a steal to be honest. ichigo wanted to try horchata as a drink, getting a large so the two of you could share.
“you cold?” he asks briefly, spotting you rubbing your arms before you nod frantically, muttering a tiny ‘yes’. embraces you into a hug instantly, tall frame towering you as he rocked the two of you side to side while you waited alongside a few other people, laughing between his armpit where you buried your face.
you were talking on and on about cotton candy, looking up at him with your chin on his chest, a pout on your lips. glancing deeper into the boardwalk and catching glimpses of big bags of pink or blue cotton candy hanging horizontally beside jumbo cartoon character while that song from ten years ago that always plays at amusement parks blast through the speakers. yes, it's call me maybe.
“hey, i just met you,” ichigo begins, bouncing his knees to the beat of the song.
“no!” you groan.
“and this is crazy! but here's my number. so call me maybe!”
one things for sure, you fucked those tacos up. licking your fingers and swinging your feet like nothing else mattered in the world. ichigo lovingly resting his palm in his hand as he watches you squeak as you bop your head to the music. could never stay still when you ate. you thanked him dozens of times with your mouth stuffed, dunking your tacos into your lime infused broth before chowing down, juices dripping. unfortunately, you weren't full enough after, and by then the truck had already gone. the two of you cleaned up your area on the bench before ichigo decided to grab a bag of cotton candy for you before you headed back to yours.
his favorite thing about your living room was the beautiful collection of the weeknd’s entire discography hung up on your wall in vinyls. a glass record player sitting beneath. choosing an album, going with my dear melancholy because why not? sliding the disc from out of its slot, blowing on it to rid any dust before twirling it between the pads of his fingers and inserting it. you were sitting on your dark gray tufted bench displayed at the bottom of your bed, dressed comfortably in a white tank and royal blue panties. the tips of your pink toes are arched in the fluffy white rug beneath them, a tropical baby blue scarf on your head and your necklaces still in view. you were rolling a blunt on the alice in wonderland tray that sat on your lap.
ichigo had just gotten out of the shower, ruffling his damp hair with the towel and finding a pair of his basketball shorts in your bottom drawer. the projector on your wall is silently playing avengers’ civil war. it's about five in the morning you presume, wanting to smoke just because. both of you love how quiet the home was, your cat sound asleep on her strawberry printed pillow by your foot, ichigo laying in your bed while scrolling through twitter on his phone until you were finished.
crawling to him with a tired smile, you flick your plated heart shaped vivienne westwood lighter and pass it to him first, arching over his body sinking into your mattress as you hold it to his lips as he stares you in your eyes. ichigo takes a puff, drags it too long which has you snatching it away and giggling. his hand takes the back of your neck in his grasp, tugging you closer to blow the smoke directly into your mouth before kissing you. he sits you entirely on his abdomen and watches you take your share of it. caressing your skin lazily, and gazing behind you as you hold his face in your chest with your hand sprawled over his cheek, both of you watching the movie.
the air shifts without the two of you even realizing it. it's when your clutching onto the duvet that's falling halfway off the edge of the bed you bury your face in as you bounce dirty on his cock in cowgirl that it resonates. ichigo now has possession of your blunt, holding it like a cigarette between his fingers in his left hand he uses to gently pinch your ass. fixating on the grip your slick pussy has on his dick, coating it perfectly, driving yourself up and down slowly. he's got his phone on camera mode, recording the way you fuck him in your mirror, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as his brows crease.
you rock forward after your lips quiver when a shock strikes up your spine, heaving and slipping off. gripping onto his ankle for support.
“put it back in,” he's haste when he hits your ass, your salacious whimper making his dick jump. raspy voice completely succumbing you as you reach behind yourself to wrap your dainty hand around the base, sinking back down and rocking your hips. his eyes scroll back when a ring of white centers his cock, a deep ‘fuck’ escaping his mouth as you cream around him. “yeah, pretty girl.”
“ooh, baby,” a guttural moan vibrates deep within your throat as you drop your ass lower, taking in as much as you could. gasping as you fist the cover in front of you and move quicker, eyes crossing. “ichi !”
“it's good baby, i know. i fuckin’ know,” ichigo whispers, hissing and clapping a heavy hand down, taking a quick pull from the blunt before putting it out on the ashtray on your nightstand. he abandons his phone, craning his neck to the side to blow out the remainder of clouds before he’s lifting you by your waist until you’re laying on your side facing him.
ichigo tugs you close, slotting himself in between your thighs once your leg hikes itself over his hip, entrapping him with your arms locked around his neck. both of you breathe in each other’s air, rotating your waist to get his cock closer, wanting it back inside before you cried about it. he sees how cute and whiny you are, sloshing his tongue and mouth all over your neck, the most sensitive spot on your body. it makes you insanely wet, gasping, bringing him in more, wanting to be completely entwined. ichigo groans in your neck, reaching between where you two meet to fist his cock, groaning when he finds that gushing hole of yours that sticks like honey and sliding back in.
now his lips are on yours, sloppily tangling tongues and breathlessly moaning into your mouths, the heel of your foot that’s thrown over his waist applying pressure to his backside to drown him in deeper. ichigo has his hands on your ass he’s squeezing until the flesh is imprinted with his marks, cursing and rutting up to sheath his cock in your sweet, sweet fucking pussy. something’s he’s been dying to do for days now. hating how busy the two of you were. there wasn’t enough time to do this as frequently as he desired. that had to change. effective immediately.
“i missed you,” a broken cry sings in his ears from you, slightly squeaky with cute hiccups, ichigo snapping his hips fairly faster, clenching his sharp jaw before kissing your forehead. “f-fuckin’ missed you, ichi.”
“daddy sorry, baby,” ichigo replies, skillfully rolling his hips to hit just the right spot that always makes you scream and claw at his back. he maybe crazy for liking it so much. but when you dig your nails into his strong back, and his skin feels like it’s bleeding . . . sometimes is, he fucking loves it. his strokes ease when he drags out a series of words you’re unable to comprehend. thrusts becoming sloppier. “promise i’ll make it up to you. know you get needy when i’m too far. gunna change that.”
“mng. you gonna make me cum, baby,” your voice is higher pitched now, eyes low and your mouth dry from hanging it open too long. ichigo knows what to do in an instant, pinning you flat on your back and holding your throat in his hand, raising and dropping his weight onto you so his dick sinks in how you like it. “baby you gonna make me cum.”
“cum,” ichigo pants, his face churning along with yours, your voice going silent as you reach down to rub your fingers over your clit, keeping your eyes focused on his as the faint sound of skin clapping echoed the room. your body’s jolting beneath him, a dry gasp crumbling through. “cum right now, baby. right fuckin’ now, please.”
your knees stutter by his waist, holding onto him tight as the tone in his voice lightens, begging you to cream all over his cock, to cum with him, to give him what he wanted. and you do, roughly slapping your hand on his forearm for security, streams of ‘fuck fuck fuck’ undulating past your puffy lips. ichigo loses his balance and falls down onto you, chest to chest, puts you in a headlock to hold you still while he switches his pace entirely and fucks you harder, his eyes white as pinballs. “fuck, baby. this my fuckin’ pussy. my fuckin’ pussy. can you tell me that, baby? let me know.”
“it’s. your. fuckin’. pussy,” your voice splits with every heavy pound, writhing in his entrapment. holding your knees to the bed with your hands. lewd squelching only gets louder the messier you become. eyes shut with your soul leaving your body. ichigo’s ‘mmm hmm’ as a reply enough to make you cum again, squealing and arching your torso off the bed.
going numb, mind distorted and ichigo holds the back of your head so it’s bending enough to see him fucking you. even with the low lighting from the television you could still spot how drenched you were. ichigo kissing the bridge of your nose, then chastely your lips. “be a good girl n’ watch me cum for you.”
your toes curl when he slows his hips to pull out, resting his cock on your stomach and being rewarded when he cums in long ropes of white, painting your tummy with a shaky moan before mashing his lips back to yours, still thrusting.
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
