SYNOPSIS: Toji was more than a fuckbuddy at this point, and he intended to make you finally admit it one way or another
PAIRING: fwb!toji x fem!reader
WC: 4153 words
CW: cheating, fwb, mentioned emotional abuse / toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, mention of ass eating, fingering, hickeys, dirty talk, mentioned dumbification, mentioned rough sex, confessions during sex (?), nipple/breast play, possessive!toji, heavy breeding kink, praise, hair pulling, cream pie, begging
❀ DEE SAYS I've been sitting on this for agessss, so happy to finally post it!!!
♫ — GIRLS NEED LOVE (REMIX) BY SUMMER WALKER
It always started this way - a screaming match with your boyfriend, things thrown or knocked over, tears and curses. Then, as if on cue, it would always end with a “fuck you”, and his departure.
As much as you wanted to leave him, to find someone better, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Each attempt to assert your independence felt hollow when faced with the pervasive loneliness that surfaced in his absence. He had a way of worming his way back in, no matter how steadfast you were that he was out of your life, too good.
The relief of separation would quickly dissipate, replaced by a gnawing anxiety about confronting a future alone. He’d apologise, and kiss, and caress. He’d whisper sweet nothings, promises of marriage and life with each other, vows to never leave again—only for him to be out the door the next weekend.
Both of you were stuck in this vicious cycle, too afraid of being alone to tear away, each of you clinging to the familiarity of pain over the uncertainty of solitude.
What he didn’t know about, however, was the company that you had over whenever he’d storm off, promising to seek comfort in another woman’s arms. Of course, you knew he didn’t have the balls to - he wasn’t that kinda guy, and you appreciated it.
You weren’t so pure of heart.
“He left again?” Toji’s voice was level, almost with the cadence of boredom, and gravelly on the other end of the line.
“Well, hello to you too,” you chuckled, still sniffling a little from your latest argument. Wiping your face with your sleeve, you shuffled around your apartment, putting knocked-over or thrown items back into place.
“What’s the point in niceties? I know what you’re calling me for. Booty call, fuck ya brains out, back home before brunch. Anything else?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you hated it, you’re lying to yourself, you love it but caught yourself smiling regardless.
“Okay, you have a point,” you sighed, throwing yourself back onto your bed with a grunt. “Alcohol would be greatly appreciated, I guess.”
“Rough one?”
You gulped softly, sniffling again before steeling yourself to reply, voice still shaky and weak regardless of your efforts. “He broke my CD player and one of my favourite CDs.”
Unlike his usual self, Toji’s voice was laced with concern as he responded. “Shit, really? Which one?”
Casting your glance to the side, the upturned bookcase - which your CD player had previously been neatly presented on - burned a hole into your carpet.
“All Eyez On Me, my Tupac one. It was in the player when he threw it.” Trying to inject some levity into the situation, you tried to brighten your face and tone as you continued. “But the case wasn’t damaged, thank god! That’s the actual signed part.”
Toji hummed, staying quiet for a second, contemplating. He then kissed his teeth, voice slightly strained.
“Be there in 30.”
—————
“You really didn’t have to, Toji.”
Rolling his eyes, he set the new CD on your bedside table, along with a bottle of liquor. He turned to the bookcase, inspecting it for a second before picking it up from the floor and putting it back into place.
“Fuck off, Y/N. It was like 5, 8 dollars max. I was more surprised I was able to pick one up.”
You watched quietly as he continued to look for any serious damage to the piece of furniture, quickly joining him when he began to scoop your books from the floor. “Still, I appreciate it. It was a thoughtful gesture.”
‘Whatever’ was the only response you received, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence as you pieced together your prized possessions. Books, CDs, pictures, trinkets, and other collected oddities were painstakingly replaced until the only difference was the startlingly bare spot where your CD player usually sat. The two of you looked at it for a minute, some sort of strange communication between each other that was both perfectly understood and unexplainable.
Shaking yourself out of it, you rounded the bed and sat down, opening the bottle. “I can’t be bothered with glasses, so we’ll have to trade spit, unfortunately.”
Scoffing, Toji followed suit and sat down next to you, letting you take a swig before snatching it, skin brushing against yours.
“I’ve eaten your ass, we’re way past trading fuckin’ spit.”
You were thankful Toji had the decency to at least let you swallow your shot before spouting his bullshit, even if you still choked and stared at him in shock-horror. This soon led to the two of you dissolving into laughter, with you leaning your head on Toji. He raised an eyebrow, one of his large arms encircling your waist.
“Getting handsy already? You can’t at least make a guy feel special first?”
“Nah, you’ll live.”
You punctuated your quip with a hungry kiss, hand snaking behind his head to hold him in place and ultimately wiping the cocky smirk off of his face. While momentarily startled, Toji eagerly settled into the embrace, putting the bottle on the floor as you clambered onto his lap, pushing him flat on the bed as you continued to kiss.
Raunchy as usual, Toji was squeezing and moulding your asscheeks, tongue exploring the entirety of your mouth as you tried to assert dominance. It was cute, honestly, and he decided to let you have your way for once.
Your lips parted briefly, just for you to trail rushed kisses along his neck, settling into his nape with a harsh suck. He didn’t reciprocate - you strictly forbade him from marking you up - but fuck, he really wanted to. He wanted to litter you with lovemarks, bites, bruises - anything that was a visible indicator of him claiming you.
“Need you to fuck me good tonight, yeah? I don’t wanna remember anything.”
Under your lips, you felt the warm rumble of Toji laughing, one of his hands pausing their kneading of your ass to thread through your hair, “that’s always the objective; stuff you full until you’re a babbling mess, just how you like.”
You could feel your face heating at his words, at the truth behind them. As much as it pained you to admit, Toji was the best you’d had in… well, ever. He was rough and unrestrained, almost bestial when he fucked you, trapping you against the mattress and pistoning until satisfied. Toji manhandled you with ease, unafraid to push your knees to your chest, flip you over, and pin you down. It was almost objectifying being treated in such a manner, but you weren’t opposed in any way.
“You’re always so vulgar, Toji. You should learn how to romance with your words.”
Scoffing, Toji sat up slightly, looking you up and down with mock disdain. “Words aren’t m’thing. Mouth has better uses anyways.”
Toji had set you off again, blushing and groaning with second-hand embarrassment on top of him. Before you could slither off his lap, his hands clamped down on your cheeks, pinning you into place. You could feel the heat of his palms through your sleep shorts, struggling to suppress a moan as your core brushed his hardening cock.
“Horny lil’ slut like you’d probably fuck my thigh if I gave it to you. No need to pretend you’ve got standards, baby.”
Biting your lip, part of you felt the need to defend your honour. However, considering the fact you’d envisioned that exact scenario before while rubbing yourself raw, it seemed a fruitless endeavour.
“Just hurry up and fuck me.” Scoffing, Toji gave your cheek a chastising pinch before his hands slipped beneath the fabric, the large intrusion stretching your shorts taut and pressing the seat against your already-leaking pussy. You hissed slightly at the sensation, biting your lip so he wouldn’t become even more smug, and yet he still smirked infuriatingly as his lips met your ear.
“Don’t hide now, baby. You know I like hearing how good I make you feel.”
Nodding, you didn’t hold back your next gasp as his hands slid back out, one planted firmly on your thigh and the other slipping your shorts to the side. His finger gave your pussy lips a lewd swipe, collecting juices on the tip for him to eagerly suckle off. Stuck on top, you had nowhere to hide as Toji stared at you intently, tongue dragging along his finger. Luckily for you, his eyes soon flitted to your pussy, licking his lips softly before pressing his thumb firmly into your clit.
“Do you miss me when you’re with him?” he murmured, rubbing circles absentmindedly as his attention returned to you. You didn’t even realise your eyes had shut until they snapped open as you processed his words.
“W-what?”
Chuckling softly, Toji’s free hand gave your thigh a soft squeeze before he spoke again. “I miss you, y’know.” His hand trailed up to your waist, palm spreading warmth as his words brought a cold chill. “I miss this body,” he smirked, giving your nipple a playful flick. “These beautiful tits.” As you gasped, he gave your clit a gentle pinch, delighting in the shiver that overtook your body as you moaned wantonly. “And fuck, I miss this pretty pussy every second I’m not buried in it.”
Your head swam as you tried to take in his words, tried to process them as pleasure ran rampant through your body. But before you could speak, he was already sliding a finger into you.
“You don’t really love him, you’re just comfortable.”
Brows furrowed, you shook your head, eyes lidded as you panted softly. “No, T-Toji you’re w-wrong-”
“Shhh,” his voice was like warm honey, dripping all over your brain, smothering any other thought. All you could think about was Toji, all you could smell was Toji, all you could feel was Toji-
“C’mere, sweetheart.” Sweetheart. It settled on your tongue like a sugar cube as Toji threaded a hand into your hair, gently tugging you down to his eager embrace. His kiss was overwhelming, tongue bullying its way into your mouth as his scar rubbed against your lip. If it were possible, you would assume he was trying to eat you alive, his mouth moving with a never-before-seen hunger against yours. His finger began to pump slowly, agonisingly, his other palm still heavy on the back of your head. Pinning. Suffocating. When he couldn’t bear another second without air, Toji pulled away, panting against your skin as he sloppily kissed your nape. His hand still pinned you, even as your hands pushed at his chest.
“Toji! You know you can’t-”
You yelped quietly as his teeth sank into the skin of your neck, his tongue quickly darting out to soothe the inevitable mark he made. “I don’t care anymore.”
He continued to bite and suck at your neck, littering the length of skin as you whimpered and moaned his name softly. One agonising finger was joined by a second, pumping diligently into you. By the time he finally let go of your head, there was no way you could possibly have covered his marks. You pushed up as little as he would allow, his fingers stilling whilst his free arm now snaked around your waist.
“Are you fucking insane, Toji?!”
He stared at you, deadpan, as if you had just stated the obvious. “Yeah. And I’m sick of sharing. Any other questions?”
Scoffing, he didn’t even give you space to argue, slipping his fingers out and deftly flipping the two of you over. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but whine at the loss, as if your body was a completely separate entity from your mind. You mind wanted to cuss him out, push him off, send him home with his tail between his legs. But your body?
Well, your body craved him like a drug.
“You’re a dog,” you grunted, fingers curling in his hair as he continued to lap hungrily at the marks he’d made. The only response he gave you was a callous chuckle, head dipping down to unashamedly suck at your nipples through your shirt, fabric darkening with saliva.
“Bark.”
You couldn’t help but snort at the monotone retort, smile quickly fading into pleasure as he impatiently tugged your top up, watching in glee as your breasts bounced out. Toji’s breath was warm against your skin, tongue dragging roughly from your under breast to your nipple before his lips wrapped expertly around it. “T-Toj-!”
His fingers tweaked and tugged at your other nipple, ensuring they both got equal attention. You couldn’t even arch your back with how much he was pressing down onto you, so you instead resorted to tugging on his hair and whimpering weakly. His groans vibrated deliciously against your skin, sending shockwaves along your spine. Soon enough, he pulled away, only for his lips to envelop your other nipple, teeth grazing as he tugged slightly harder than before.
“You should be mine, Y/N,” he mumbled, eyes flitting upwards to watch how you threw your head back in ecstasy, shaking slightly from the stimulation. “I’d treat you right.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to hold back your scoff, biting back a smirk as Toji pulled away to lean over you. “You’re a bum, Toji. All you do is steal, lie, and cheat.”
He frowned slightly, chewing on his lip softly as if trying to process… hurt?
“We wouldn’t be so bad, y’know. I may not be a good guy, but I… I could be better. For you.”
Whatever emotions brewing beneath the surface were quickly replaced by a taunting smile; Toji licked his lips hungrily as he tugged down your shorts. You gasped as the cold air of the room hit your bare half, watching as his eyes raked intently over your glistening pussy.
“I’d fuck you good, every night. Keep you warm nd’ full.” His hand trailed to your stomach, pressing gently on it as he began to shimmy out of his pants. “Make sure this pretty pussy is stuffed with so much cum you drip any time you try and do anything.”
You moaned softly when his cock finally sprang free, and he immediately guided the tip to your entrance, rubbing teasingly along your slit.
“I’d work six fucking jobs if it meant coming home and sinking into this perfect pussy,” he murmured, “always so wet, so warm.”
“Toji,” you whimpered, hands cupping his face almost desperately, hips unconsciously rutting against his cockhead, “please, just put it in.”
Humming softly, Toji’s hand left your stomach to brush a few sweaty tendrils from your face, touch almost tender. His voice was low and yet not as rough as usual, his calloused hand cupping your cheek as if it were made out of porcelain.
“You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside? Make you mine?”
Already past the point of no return, you simply nodded shamelessly, something warm twinging in your gut as Toji seemed visibly pleased by your green light. Of course, he didn’t revel in his delight for long, instead lining up his cockhead with your already-pulsating hole. His eyes flitted over your needy expression for a second before his hand returned to your hip, finally pushing his hips forward, his other arm pushing into the mattress next to your head for support.
He watched in wonder as your mouth fell into a pleasured gasp, your pussy sucking inch after inch inside as if it craved him. Moulding together agonisingly slow, becoming one, his head dipped with a soft ‘fuck’ while you tried to accommodate his size. No matter how many times he left your pussy gaped and raw, the first moments were always a stretch with him.
“Gooood girl,” he drawled out, clearly also affected by the stretch of your gummy walls despite his attempts to hide it, “such a f-fucking good girl.”
Biting your quivering lip, you tried to keep yourself calm, appreciating the fact that Toji was waiting for the go-ahead to move. It didn’t hurt, not like the first couple of times, but it still wasn’t the most comfortable experience. Humming softly, he lowered himself until his lips were centimetres from yours, his breath ragged as he melted against you.
“Can I move, sweetheart?” His voice was softer than usual, the warmth within you only building in response.
“Please,” you whimpered, finally releasing your lip and all the emotion you were trying to suppress, “please Toji, before I go fucking insane-”
Your words quickly trailed off into an elongated mewl as Toji pulled out and sank back in, sitting heavy inside you as his lips once again enveloped yours. Starting slow and deep, you could feel every inch stretching you wide and pressing insistently against your G-spot. Trust Toji to find it instantly, devouring your moans hungrily whilst his hips worked their magic. Every thrust felt like a gunshot, forcefully knocking the breath out of you with each knock of his hips against yours.
It wasn’t the wild, unrestrained sex you were used to with Toji, but something even more deep, more intimate. Your whole body had been set alight by the sheer desperation of his movements — the way his hand left your hip to tug gently on your hair; the way his tongue slid into your mouth, claiming each area and swallowing your sounds; the way his body pressed you deep into the mattress but didn’t suffocate you; the way his cock was already pulsing with need.
“I love you,” he rasped against your lips. “Fuck, I love you so much. You’re all I want, Y/N.”
You didn’t process his rushed confession, not with the way he grunted softly in between, not with the way he continued his jackhammered assault of your pussy. All your brain could dare to process was the fire beginning to ravage your body as he stimulated all of your senses.
“Toji-!”
He moaned, low and gravelly. “Fuck, just like that. Keep saying my name, sweetheart.” The hand that had been tugging on your hair now cradled your neck, keeping you intimately intertwined with Toji in a way that you couldn’t escape if you tried. “M’gonna fuck this pussy full of cum, get you pregnant.”
Hands falling around his neck, you helplessly tugged Toji lower until he was flush against your nape, gasping as he hungrily kissed your skin. Turning your head, you nibbled and licked at his lobe, moaning into his ear, “c-close, Toji! Mmmmmfuckk, ngh-! Please!”
“Please, what?” he chuckled, nipping gently at your neck in retaliation, trying to cover the stutter of his hips at your desperate pleas. “Use your words, Y/N.”
Whining in protest, your back arched as Toji picked up his pace, thrusts shallow as you fruitlessly pressed against him. He had you pinned, he had you cornered, fuck, there was no escape-
Toji’s teeth sank into your neck, grounding you with a low groan. As much as he loved it when he rendered you a babbling mess, he needed to hear you say it.
“C’mon Sweetheart, be a good girl for me- ngh, fuck- tell me what you need.”
Drawing what little willpower you had left, you begged him almost pitifully, “Breed me, Toji! Shit, pump me f-full! Wanna be full, wanna be pregnant! Pleasepleaseplease-!”
He didn't answer you, instead stilling with a grunt of relief, cum steadily flowing inside you. Not long after, your own release was triggered, legs shaking and mouth agape as Toji began to slowly fuck both of you through your highs. A lewd squelch accompanied each of his thrusts, and you could already feel his release trickling out of your hole, even as he remained inside you. Never before had you felt so content, so full, as if he had quenched a thirst you didn’t even know you had.
After what felt like an eternity, Toji finally let himself fully slump against you for a second before pulling out and flopping next to you. As both your chests heaved under the soft glow of your lamp, as clarity began to return to your mind, you let your head turn to face him. Toji was already looking at you, looking at you as if you were the world, looking at you as if you were everything. To him, you had already been for a while. But he didn’t need to tell you that, his eyes did.
“Did… did you really mean all of that? Everything you said?”
Licking his lips, nervous, Toji hesitantly nodded. While his mouth ached to fill the silence with excuses or apologies, his mind couldn’t bring itself to focus on anything except the way your body shimmered with sweat in the low light.
“Yeah. I… I meant everything.”
Swallowing softly, you looked at the marks decorating both of you before reaching out, caressing his cheek gently. Unlike his usual self, Toji felt himself lean into the touch almost desperately, like some touch-deprived animal. You were always affectionate, especially after sex, but this? This felt different. Warm. He liked it a lot.
“I… I um… god,” you chuckled nervously, you were never good at these kinda things, “I would like it if you… If you stayed the night, this time. Like, y’know, even after brunch.”
Booty call, fuck ya brains out, back home before brunch.
Your offer hung between the two of you, a stark contrast to the status quo. Different.
“Yeah?” He tried not to sound too hopeful, too happy, but the corner of his scarred mouth itched to break into a smile.
Leaning up, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, an equal mix of bashful and excited. “Yeah. I… I’d really like it if you stayed.”
Unable to keep his cool for any longer, Toji pulled you into his arms, the embrace warm and comforting. You could hear the way his heart pounded, and a small part of you revelled in the fact that he also felt just as emotional as you did, even if his face wouldn’t give his cards away.
Little did you know, you had been Toji’s all way before you had come to terms with it.
“Mmmmm, I guess if I have to.” He barked out a laugh as he felt you hit his chest, no true force behind the blow. He couldn’t give himself away, couldn’t admit that this was everything he’d wanted for ages.
As he rested his head atop yours, inhaling deeply and relishing your scent, everything seemed to fall into place so perfectly. His hand fell to the small of your back, tracing shapes aimlessly as his other arm still wrapped around you tightly. Just as you began to relax into him, perhaps even fall asleep, he spoke again.
“Does that dickhead have keys to your place?”
You froze for a second before shaking your head, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
“No. He still lives with his mom.”
Grimacing, Toji hummed, “Of course he does,” rolling his eyes playfully before smiling that sleazy smile of his at you. “Want me to burn his clothes?”
Scoffing, you couldn’t fight off your smile as you shook your head, leaning against his chest.
“Nah, but you can give them to him in a trash bag when he comes crawling back. That good enough for you?”
Dipping down to kiss your cheek, you felt the warm rumble of his chest before he spoke.
“That’s perfect, sweetheart. I’ll make sure to scare him off for you, yeah?”
Nodding, you let your own fingers draw lazy circles on his neck, noticing how Toji slightly bristled at the action, cock twitching. Smirking to yourself, you couldn’t hide the sultry undertone of your words as you pressed yourself closer to him.
“You’ll have to, I won’t be able to get out of bed anyways once I’m through with you.”
Both Toji and his little Toji perked up at that, and soon you found yourself face-first in the mattress, Toji already above you and angling your hips upwards as his cockhead grazed your already-leaking hole.
“Trust me baby, you won’t leave this bed until I’m sure you’re pregnant.” His hand dragged along the length of your spine before pushing you into a deep arch, smirking that sharp-toothed grin as he watched you clench with need, a tiny whimper falling from your lips.
“M’gonna breed this pussy, and you’re gonna keep it all in like a good girl. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
It didn’t matter if you could, in the end. He’d make sure you were plugged full of cum regardless. Toji was many things, mostly bad, but he kept a promise. By the time he was through with you, you wouldn’t be able to move an inch without his cum dripping out of you.
Nerd!Toji leaving class to fuck his fist at the thought of you <3
C/W: Masturbation, flirty reader, he's obsessed with you lowkey, fantasies.
!ARTWORK BY YOUKA.I, they did an amazing job omg wow im gna nut!
“F-fuck, Mmm–haah”
His fist pumped fast, free hand holding his shirt up—gripping the fabric as he stroked himself.
It wasn’t easy, sitting beside you all day.
The tantalizing scent of your fragrance, the way you’d smile at him as you sat—giving him a soft nod, your honeyed tone asking to see his math notes and how you’d speak the words all hushed and quiet—easily swapped out by dirty secrets in his daydreams.
Running his thumb along the tip, he slid his thick fingers up and down, careful to apply pressure along every ridge and vein, picturing you pressed against the stall door, his pelvis reddened from the loud plap! of his thrusts.
He felt so dirty,
so wrong.
The cute—kind, clever, funny—girl who he had met only a few months prior had already taken over every thought that crossed his mind, forcing him into fits of restless arousal and vivid fantasies.
One particularly shameful night, he sat at his desk, placidly reviewing his notes till he saw a little scribble at the bottom of the page—a silly doodle you had done while he wasn't paying attention.
It was a bulbous purple worm with a pencil sticking out of its mouth, the words 'feed me mommy!' written above its head in a swirly speech bubble. He chuckled at it, pulled out his phone and snapped a photo.
Cute he thought, sparkly pen ink shimmering under his desk lamp, the same pens you'd use to write your unnecessarily color-coded notes, the same notes you'd copy off of him cause you were too busy doodling in his notebooks to actually pay attention.
His cock twitched at the thought of how your fingers would wrap around his arm to move it out of the way—giving yourself more real estate for your doodles on his lined paper. He leaned back, watching the imprint of his growing hard-on press up against his sweats.
Fuck.
So he did what any man would naturally do in this scenario—he pulled his dick out. It sat there semi-limply as he debated—would it be fucked up if i jerked off to a gross (but very cute) doodle of a chunky worm calling me mommy? Yes, probably, but am i really jerking off to the worm or...
His mind replayed images of you hunched—basically sprawled over his desk like you lived there—frantically darting your eyes back and forth to copy his notes before class began. The way your plush thighs rubbed against him, the faint scent of vanilla and magic that danced across your skin.
He simply couldn't help himself.
But now it had gone too far, sneaking out of class to rub one out after you had dropped an eraser between his legs, innocently leaning down to pick it up. His body stiffened immediately—afraid to move—but his eyes settled on the curve of your hunched back and the barely noticeable arch that formed as you struggled to reach.
"Toji, can you grab it please? I can't reach." You pushed yourself back up on his knees, leaning back into your seat with a huff.
He did—very, very quickly at that—before quietly excusing himself to the bathroom to express the throbbing between his thighs.
A hand pressed firmly against the stall door, black Converse grounding his trembling legs to the linoleum floor of the bathroom. With a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead, soft huffs and moans rolled off his tongue, mouth hanging agape as his hand worked his cock—squeezing and pumping in a weak attempt to mimic how he'd imagined the tight squeeze of your cunt.
"F-fuuck," he breathed, glasses slowly slipping off the bridge of his nose.
He wanted you so primally, in every sense of the word—to hold you, touch you, kiss you, feel you. You were always there beside him, in more classes than necessary. All pressed up against him, passing silly notes and smiling with those sparkly doe eyes and soft lips.
How could he not daydream about fucking you?
He envisioned you there with him, face pressed up against the door—bottoms tugged down to your knees as he pounded his thick cock into your cunt, kissing your cervix as he pummeled you to the hilt. He'd purr filthy words in your ears, calling you a tease—how naive you were for getting so close to him, not knowing how badly he'd ruin you given the chance.
The squeeze of his fingers sent shocks of pleasure through his body, eyes fluttering shut—almost feeling the tight choke of your gooey cunt. He wanted to feel you so desperately, unable to get his mind off of how pretty you'd look stretched around him, how he'd breed your sweet pussy, taste it, ruin it.
His rhythm stuttered, large hand coaxing ropes of cum out from his throbbing length—splattering against the bathroom floor. Breath shaking in his lungs, his chest heaved as he came down from his high.
The aftermath was always shameful. Pulling his pants back up, he fumbled with his phone to check the time—3:47, still another 13 minutes of class left before he could go home and think about you all over again.
He held his head low, avoiding the gaze of anyone he'd cross in the hallways, graphic tee softly catching the slick sweat on his abs as he clumsily tugged his zip-up back onto his broad shoulders.
"There you are, thought you ditched me." you teased, elbow planted on the desk as you leaned over, glossed lips tugged into a soft grin.
"Yeah, sorry about that." He slid into the seat beside you, fidgety and restless. "Just, had to take care of somethin' important."
He could've sworn you were doing it on purpose. Your eyelashes fluttered gently, eyes grazing over every detail of his face like you were trying to memorize it. "Well, if you don't have anything important after class, wanna help me study?"
His breath caught in his throat, unsure of if he could survive another couple of hours with you without popping another boner that he'd have to sneak off and relieve.
"Fine,"
The way you perked up, smiling ear to ear—he already knew he was fucked. "I don't know how you'd survive this class without moochin' off my notes." He continued.
"Shut up, you love it." a smug grin plastered across your face, eyes narrowed and teasing.
Fuck, that was hot.
This was gonna be a very, very long semester.
A/N: HIIIIIII. hope u enjoyed LMAO this was lowkey tame but if i make a pt 2 TRUST and BELIEVE he's gna eat u out while you read his notes out loud and stop every time u stop reading LOL anyyywayyyss love u xx bye
MDNI ⋆˙⟡ olderbf!toji helping you through ovulation 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ m.list
there will be a part 2 <3
ovulating is hell.
you’re laying on the couch in one of toji’s oversized t-shirts that hits the middle of your plush thighs, pulling the collar under your nose just so you can smell the faint traces of his cologne, eyes fluttering closed and a desperate whimper escaping your throat.
you’re almost always horny when you're ovulating, climbing onto your boyfriend’s lap, straddling one of his beefy thighs, your head nuzzling against his neck and inhaling his scent— a mixture of woody cologne and whiskey mixing with his natural musk, a dangerous cocktail that makes your pussy throb.
and he lets you cling onto him, your much smaller frame sitting atop his. how could he deny you? you're his spoiled princess after all. there’s no other way he'd rather spend his free time after working hard all day to make sure he can buy you anything and everything you ask for, and of course ‘gumi too.
“hey there, doll.” he mumbles against his glass, his scarred lips tug into a smirk as he takes a swig of whiskey. mossy green eyes dragging along your pouty lips down to where you slowly start to grind your drooling cunt against the hard ridges of his thigh.
“hm, like a cat in heat.” he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest as your desperate whimpers grow louder, your hips dragging along his thigh lazily.
“nah, more like a brat in heat.” his large hand splays over the small of your back, the rough pads of his fingers tracing soothing circles under your shirt— his shirt, as he lifts his leg slightly to press further against your throbbing heat.
“that's it doll, use me however you want.” his breath is hot against your ear as he nibbles on the lobe, canines dragging along the soft skin of your neck, biting down on your throbbing pulse.
“mmm, thank you ‘ji. need this right now, s-so bad.”
you pant softly, walls clenching around nothing as slick trickles out of your needy hole, making you so wet that it's borderline uncomfortable. the thin cotton of your panties glued to your soaked folds as you grind down onto his muscular thigh that’s larger than the circumference of your head.
“take whatever you need, i've got you. doin’ so good f’me— keep grinding that greedy pussy on me just like that.”
he continues to whisper filthy words and praises into your ear, deep gravelly voice hoarse with his own desire. but he ignores it, ignores his thick cock that's leaking pre against his lower abdomen, bulbous tip aching to stuff you full.
but that's for later.
he knows you need this, and he loves seeing you like this. desperate to get off, so desperate that your riding his thigh, fucking humping it like it's your toy— like he’s your toy.
and right now he is, his hands moving to grip the fat of your hips, guiding you to reach your high, all while murmuring those filthy praises in your ear.
“cmon, you can do it baby. so close aren't ya’ doll? can feel ‘er drooling through my sweats, makin’ such a pretty fuckin’ mess.”
and he's there to hold you as your gummy walls flutter, your juices soaking through your underwear to make a large damp spot on his grey sweats. he's there to catch you as you fall forward against his own heaving chest, your small hands resting against the ridges of his bulging muscles through his compression shirt.
“y-yes, it feels so good toji— m' gonna cum!”
his large arms wrap around you tight, his hand gently tugging your hair back to catch your whimpers with his mouth. tongues and spit mingling as both of you groan, before pulling back to look at your dazed expression.
“feel better brat?” he smirks, running a hand through your hair, blunt nails grazing your scalp before giving the top if your head a soft pat.
“mmm, s'much better, thank you 'ji.” you whisper as you lean against his hard chest.
he places a soft kiss atop your head, a stark contrast to the filthy things running through his mind. how he wants to stuff you so full of him that your cunt’s leaking thick globs of his cum for days, that’ll really give you something to whine about.
comments and reblogs appreciated! ♡
repost from my old account sytorusdoll
I like to think Choso purposely makes his face mark bleed so you'll think he's injured and rush to his side, fawning over him.
"Oh my god, Choso. What happened? What did you do?" You rest his head on your lap, pressing tissues to the wound, with a furrow in your brows.
Meanwhile, he's fully hard and leaking in his pants as his entire vision is filled with the curve of your breasts. He fakes a soft voice and says, "This just happens sometimes."
"What can I do to help?"
Choso's lips curl up ever so slightly before he forces a faux-reluctant frown. "I-if my blood rushes down, away from my face, maybe it'll stop."
"Down?" you ask. "Down where?"
He drags your hand, lower and lower, until you're gripping something hard and scalding. You gasp.
"Here. Maybe if you release the tension here, I'll feel better."
You deadpan, fighting the urge to look at a non-existent camera in the corner. "Oh, I bet you will."
Nodding, he urges you to begin rubbing at the tent, letting out a whorish moan. With a roll of your eyes, you let him rut into your palm. Maybe you aid him with a squeeze here and there. But you'll never admit to it.
It's better if he thinks he's got you wrapped around his finger instead of the other way around.
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Tutoring frat!Toji and he teaches you how to give…
“A blowjob?” Toji’s eyebrows raise.
You blink at him innocently.
“Yes? I teach you something and you teach me something. Fair, isn’t it?”
“Sweets…”
You and a couple of friends are running private tutoring sessions for the first and second years for some extra cash.
Toji isn’t younger than you though. He’s actually a year older but he’d kept switching majors and now, he’s stuck in a biology class he doesn’t want to be in.
He’s decided to push through with it because at this point, his money is on the line. Tutoring was the cheaper option so here he is.
“You also said you wanted to bargain my prices, right? If you teach me how to give a blowjob, you won’t have to pay,” you sing the last part and Toji stares at you awkwardly.
He nods, considering the exchange.
“Just a bold request for a girl like you,” he murmurs.
“Sure.”
You squint at him and push your chair away from the desk you both are sitting at. You rise from your seat and walk to the edge of your bed. Toji’s chair spins and his eyes follow your every step.
Toji watches as you kneel down, resting your head on the bed.
A week ago when he met you, you acted closed off and as if you were forced to tutor him. Despite your nervous demeanour, you agreed to tutoring him and slowly, you did open up to him.
But this was way too quick. Maybe not for him but for you. Toji had sex hookups often but usually with girls who were just as experienced as him. He didn’t need to teach them how they should pleasure him.
But he was running low on cash so he’d do anything to save a penny at this point.
He exhales loudly and stands, walking to your bed. Maintaining eye contact, you smile cheekily as he stands in front of you.
You perk up excitedly and scoot in front of him, biting your lip.
“So? Do I need to teach you how to take my pants off too?”
You shake your head frenziedly and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants, hooking your fingers onto it and dragging it down.
His large bulge is covered by his grey boxer briefs and you trace your fingers along the outline.
Your soft touch makes Toji’s whole body twitch and his breathing becomes more audible.
“You gonna start licking through the briefs or something? Pull ‘em down,” he demands.
You do as he says, dragging his briefs to down and his thick, massive cock springs up, reaching his shirt.
He takes a seat on the bed and you watch his cock spasm, precum trickling down his length.
Feeling intimidated, you gulp and continue to ogle at him throbbing.
“You’re freaking me out. Do you actually need me to narrate everything?” he grumbles.
You think about how the tutoring session was going a couple minutes ago and how you had to teach him cellular respiration step by step. You had to narrate every stage so he should too, right?
You shrug innocently and flutter your eyelashes at him. You wedge yourself in between his legs, gripping onto his bare thighs.
“Didn’t know you could be such a brat,” he spits. “Use your hands first.”
You nod simply and wrap your dainty hand around the tip of his cock, applying various amounts of pressure as you stroke down slowly.
“Usually you put the tip in your mouth now?” Toji’s voice comes out raspy.
You blink silently and choose to tease by deliberately giving his tip a few kitten licks, cleaning off any cum that had leaked out.
You notice Toji’s body stiffen and you smirk to yourself. You wrap your lips around the head of his dick and suck lightly.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Toji praises.
You envelope his whole tip into your mouth and gradually you swallow more of his length. His girth pushed your mouth wide open and once he had reached the back of your throat, your eyes begin to tear up.
You look up at Toji with glassy eyes and you notice him watching you silently.
“Keep going, you’re doing good.”
You drag his cock out of your mouth and eagerly, you push it back in. You took him in deeper this time and you gag slightly, pulling him out instantly.
“Sorry…” you whisper, stroking him softly.
“That’s okay. Try again.”
He guides his tip to your wet lips and they part slowly, taking in his dick again. You get used to the feeling of his cock occupying the space in your mouth and begin to move your head faster.
“Fuckkkk just like that.” Toji leans his head back in pleasure.
Unexpectedly, his whole cock slips out of your mouth and before slipping it back in, you rub his cock. You stick your tongue out and slap his cock against it, grinning.
“You fucking tease,” Toji growls, grabbing your hair with a hint of force.
He forcefully pushes his cock into your mouth until your nose makes contact with his stomach.
You let out a muffled groan and shut your teary eyes.
“Yeah, you’ve learned enough, right?” he grunts, shoving his dick so deep down your mouth, you feel it reach your throat.
“Relax, you know better than to gag, yeah?”
You try to nod your head but he slows his movements and begins to roughly buck his hips into you.
“Fuck, can I cum down your throat?”
Toji doesn’t care whether you say yes or no. He does it anyway.
As you nod your head, you feel hot fluid flow down your throat and you choke. Toji steadies your head to the base of his cock and he groans. Hearing your muffled gags only encouraged him to cum more.
He pulls out of you slowly, spurts of cum landing on your tongue. Once your mouth releases its grip on him, you move your jaw side to side ungracefully to relieve the pain from being pried open.
“Aw no… did it hurt?” Toji fakes the concern in his voice.
“You’re just really big,” you murmur, rubbing your cheeks and looking at the floor.
“Yeah, I know.”
You don’t see but you can imagine the mocking pout in his face.
cw: masochist!Toji, biting, scratching, brief mentions of drawing blood, reader who (mindlessly) markes up her boyfriend for making her feel so good :(
Masterlist.ᐟ
OlderBF!Toji who's secretly obsessed with the feeling of your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you senseless.
He loves seeing his back in the mirror, long red streaks lining the expanse of his muscular frame—painful little stripes decorating the skin as a reminder of you. He doesn’t care for slapping or spanking—the action bringing up too many dark memories. but the slow, deep, pining pains you gift him are so addictive, he can't help but fuck you even harder just to push you over the edge—hoping that the sweet bite of your maw pierces his skin.
The dig of your teeth in his neck, the tug of your fingers running through his hair, even the taste of blood filling his mouth when you bite his lip a little too hard. It thrills him, bathing in those lasting little stings you give him.
Hickeys on his neck, bite marks, bruises.
It doesn’t help that you pair it with the sweetest praise, soft words and promises trickling from your lips—his name rasped under desperate pleas.
“F–fuck, feels s’good toj-”
“Yesyesyes, r-right–hah right there,”
“T-toji-ngh m’gonna cum,”
Legs tightly wrapped around him, your heels dig into his lower back—pressing him further into you. He responds with a deep, harsh grind of his hips—anticipating a heavenly bite, scratch or tug—another mark painting his skin.
“Fuckfuckfuckyes–”
With a crashing orgasm rippling through your core, you clenched hard—hips bucking up to meet his as you held on for dear life. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, warm breath bouncing off his slicked body and back onto you.
Pearly canines catching the skin of his throat, you latched onto the right side—tongue lathering the surface before holding him between teeth, biting down in an attempt to muffle your pitchy whines, the fluttering pleasure overwhelming your senses.
The pain was delicious—he was infatuated with how it felt to be wanted, to be craved so desperately that all you could do was hold him like he’d float away otherwise.
His chest rumbled a deep groan, the sting shooting heat down to his pulsing cock, hips snapping harder and harder the deeper your teeth sank. Your nails ghosted against his biceps before you took them into your iron grip, tugging the skin and digging into the surface.
“haah—Fuck baby, keep grabbin’ me like that” he groaned, stuttering hips fucking the hot spill of his thick load into every ridge of your squeezing cunt. As his vision flashed white with ecstasy, nothing mattered in that moment—the only thing on his mind being you and the divine lacerations burning into his flesh.
And much like other nights, he found himself admiring the evidence in the mirror, your teeth marks imprinted to the side of his neck, arms red and full of puffy little lines from your vicious clawing.
His heavy strut brought him back to your bedroom, sweatpants low on his waist.
Then you saw it, the evidence of how mindless and overwhelmed he could get you from his cock alone, your brain getting knocked out your ears with every vicious grind and thrust. It resulted in oblivious indulgence, littering his body with marks, bruises and proof of how good he’d make you feel—how viscerally your sadistic praise could manifest.
You traced the marks with your thumb as he sat, mattress dipping under his weight.
“Sorry Toj- I’ll be less rough next time,” you apologized, only to be met with his piercing gaze, a dissatisfied expression painting his features.
“Don’t,” he kissed your forehead, “feels good.”
A/N: I believe in masochistic top x sadistic bottom supremacy !!! ofc if there are any spelling errors then I UNLEASH A MAGIC SPELL UPON YOUR MIND, WIPING ANY MEMORY OF IT, TWAS NOT REAL. DIDNT HAPPEN. anyways love u guys also go listen to Porn for percussion (remastered) and imagine a fic where u smash Dad'sBestFriend!Toji...SHAMALAMADINGDONG !!!!!!!
content: the notorious fuckboy suddenly stopped sleeping around and nobody knows why. its totally not because he’s been secretly running around with someone that’s almost a decade older and is embarrassed to be seen with him in public || MDNI, fem!reader, age gap (gojo’s 20-21 readers late 20s), smut, porn w/ plot, fuck buddies, secret relationship(?), gojo plays rugby 🫦, readers lw so embarrassed to be seen with him LMAO, date crashing, he also calls her drunk to tell her he misses her, he's an unhinged little shit
notes: hiiii im so sorry to the ones that asked to be tagged, ive been swamped with schoolwork and im exhausted 😭 11.9k words today, enjoy the read 🙂↕️❤️
Satoru has lived his life quite simply these past few months— just school, training, and games.
Everyone’s gotten on his case about it— mainly just questioning him, but there are moments like yesterday, when he got accused of going through a crisis of some sort over his sexuality. Or last month, when the entire frathouse got together in the living room and tried to have some intervention, thinking he had depression or some other shit.
He doesn't. He’s also not very worried about his sexuality.
It’s crazy because he really hasn’t changed that much. He just hasn’t brought anyone over. Or gone out on dates. Or made out with anyone at parties. Anything related to girls, he hasn’t taken much part in.
But that’s it! That’s all!
He still goes to parties, still has good grades, still goes to practice, and still wins games. He’s just as present— he’s just not fucking anybody, and now everyone thinks he’s dying because of it.
Assholes.
He’s fucked half the school, for all they knew, he could’ve just been giving his dick a break! He wasn’t— but he could be, and that wouldn’t be anybody else's business but his own. He’s a grown man, despite many individuals begging to differ.
Whatever, fuck them.
Funny thing about it all is nobody seems to have noticed that he’s out of the house at certain hours throughout the week. Consistently. So really, it’s on them for not trying hard enough to find answers to their invasive little questions.
Hm. Actually, no. On the off chance that they do ask what he’s up to on a night like tonight, he’ll just lie, say he’s at the gym or something. He’s not exactly allowed to tell, which is fine; he’s more than willing to keep a little secret.
That little secret was tucked away in a nice apartment that had a view of the entire city. A tranquil little place— except for when he’s around.
The bed’s steadily rocking underneath the uneven weight Satoru creates. Relentless smacking— skin to skin, hips to ass, the dirty little squelch that comes with it.
There’s a view, but it’s not the city.
“Arch that back some more— yeaahhh, just like that.”
He pounds into you, balls hitting heavy against your clit as he pulls you back to meet each thrust. Moans spill from your lips, taking every single inch he drills into you. The stretch is insane as he works his heavy cock in and out of you like it’s nothing.
If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he can fuck. He can go on for hours, put you in any position, have you begging and crying, dwindle you down to nothing but a babbling mess from how many orgasms he can work out of you.
He wears you out.
Yet still, at the end of every night—
“Kay’. We’re done here, you can leave now.”
You are so fucking mean.
The first time Satoru heard those words come out of your mouth, he was distraught. How dare you throw him out after the backshots he had given you?! He made you cum so hard you cried! Then you just throw him out of your apartment like some useless whore– like he was nothing but a fucking slut! He had more to offer than just his dick, he’ll have you know.
Now he’s a little less emotional and more…
“You sure? I could stay longer and help you with chores… or something.”
You look around your room, which is spotless aside from his t-shirt and jeans scattered on the floor. “Sure. Why don’t you start by picking up your clothes, putting them on, and then getting out?”
“Oh, come on. Seriously?” he throws his head back and groans rather childishly. “That’s a little rude, no?”
“So was the way you were talking to your little girlfriend on the phone earlier,” you hop off the bed and throw on a big t-shirt that said Modelo on it.
Satoru gets one final look at your ass as you do so and finds himself getting oddly jealous, wondering if the shirt was actually yours or if it belonged to an ex. He ends up telling himself it’s yours, ignoring that you’ve told him how much you hated beer in the past. Delusional? Perhaps, but he’d rather not hurt his own feelings right now.
“Carmen’s not my girlfriend,” he huffs out a laugh as he tries to explain, “I don’t even know why she called me. We haven’t fucked in months.”
He also tried to tell you that he hasn’t slept with anyone since he started sleeping with you, but you didn’t seem to care much about either. The entire time, you were just throwing his clothes at him while he absentmindedly got dressed. He continues to yap away once he’s up and fully dressed, so you grab him by the wrist and start walking towards the door.
“And you wouldn’t believe all the shit the guys have given me for turning girls down. One of them started calling me Celibate Satoru, can you believe that?”
“I sure can.” You open the door, walk around him, and start pushing him out.
“They don’t even know— assholes, they’d take it all back so fast if they saw you,” he huffs out a laugh, trying to cope with the fact that he’s not allowed to tell anybody about you two.
You laugh with him. “You better hope they don’t, ‘cause if they do–”
“You’ll bite my dick off– yeah, yeah. I know.” You never said you’d bite his dick off. Satoru turns around when he’s fully out of the door to reveal the dopey grin on his face. “So, same time next week?”
“Yup! Bye Gojo.”
He scoffs. “I thought I told you to call me Sa–”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. You shut the door in his face.
Gojo was a nice guy… at least to you, he was. You’re sure a lot of others would say the complete opposite, judging by the way he snapped at the girl earlier for calling him and telling her to lose his number. You felt sorry for her and also felt thankful that you didn’t have to deal with a guy like him when you were 21.
You tried not to reflect too much, it’d just end with you being disappointed in yourself for even letting him into your apartment in the first place. It’s all for fun, but still, you should know better.
Satoru’s a piece of work. Comes from a family swimming in money and has never been told no in his life. He’s impulsive. Very hedonistic, very immature— some people grow out of it, but you have a feeling he’ll never change since he’s never had to work hard for anything in his life.
He is the last person you’d ever want to date, and for someone who usually dated older men— preferably men like his rich father— fucking a frat boy was just embarrassing on your part.
It’s too bad he’s genuinely one of the best fucks of your life— add in the dick piercing, the stamina that came with being a rugby player, and the fact that he spends every moment with you wanting to please you, and he was hard to get rid of.
You met Satoru at the gym. You’d think he’d go to the one at his university, but no, he just had to get a membership at the luxury gym that’s on the other side of town. The only reason why you chose to get a membership there, rather than the more affordable gym down the street, was so that you could avoid annoying ass kids.
Spoiler: It didn’t work.
He didn’t approach you right away. It started with a couple of stares here and there, all of which you pretended not to see since his attention was the last thing you wanted. You can admit that if he were a little older, you would’ve indulged, but it was clear he was a college student, given how he’s worn t-shirts and hoodies with his university’s name on them. Most professional settings wouldn’t allow piercings either— he’s covered in them. One on his nose, one on his eyebrow, multiple on his ears, and a tongue ring. Not to mention the one he surprised you with when he first came over.
Of course, pretending not to notice an attention whore like Satoru Gojo didn’t work, and you soon found out just how annoyingly persistent he can be.
He started going to the gym at the same time as you. It felt like the machines he used just got closer and closer to you with each visit, up until he boldly used the treadmill right next to you one day— you weren’t having that, by the way, and got off less than a minute later. You could be talking to a trainer or one of the staff members, and he’d shimmy his way into the conversation just to get you to look at him and say something, but his attempts were met with you excusing yourself.
It got to a point where he didn’t even care about what was said, he just wanted your attention, good or bad. When he finally did get it, it was neither. You were tired of him before he even opened his mouth.
Imagine this: the annoying little shit coincidentally goes into the sauna at the same time as you, even though you could’ve sworn you saw him walking out the door with his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. How he managed to strip down into nothing but his slutty little rugby shorts in so little time? You have no clue. His knee was all scraped up though, so it was safe to assume that he fell during the process.
You gave him a curt smile and closed your eyes.
He still opened his mouth.
“Great sauna, isn’t it?”
Did he just deepen his voice? Christ.
The awkward and pathetic attempt at small talk never made you want to murder yourself more in that moment. You tried not to sound as annoyed as you were when you let out a sigh.
“It is,” you murmured back, closing your eyes again in hopes that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
“I love coming here— nice little escape from everything,” he blissfully said.
You couldn’t imagine what the hell that brat needed to escape from. If only you could say the same, you’ve spent more time dodging him than you have working out the past three weeks.
“Name's Satoru, by the way,” he flashed you a smile.
You’re not a heartless wretch, so you threw him a bone and told him your name, too. Which was a mistake, the one thing you’ve learned is to never feel sorry for Satoru, give him an inch and he’ll shamelessly take a mile. Minutes later, you’re internally groaning. You hated how smooth he was when asking if you wanted to grab drinks later that night. All the charm and charisma that oozed out of him would put any narcissist to shame.
“Did you seriously follow me into the sauna just to ask me out?”
He had to pause because that’s not what you were supposed to say, but he was too emotionally invested at that point to give up.
“Maybe,” he chirps, averting his gaze for a moment. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be weird, though.”
You smile as your eyes scan him from top to bottom, more so out of judgment than interest. “Stripping down into nothing but the male version of booty shorts isn’t weird?”
“Ugh— ok, yeah, fine— maybe it is a little weird,” he sighs, throwing a towel over his shoulders as an attempt to cover up. “Let's just.. Forget about that. Yeah?” You continue to just stare at him, and he clears his throat. “I’d still love to take you out sometime and get to know you a little better. Whatcha think? My treat.”
Age doesn’t matter, you’ll fold too once you see what he’s hiding under his “booty shorts”. Everyone does.
You cross your arms and lean back on the wooden bench. “I’m sorry– how old are you again?”
“I’m graduating this year,” he proudly says, making your face drop in disbelief— he’s well aware that he’s too young for you, and he’s still trying?
“Right.” The judgment in your tone was loud and clear, continuing to look at him as if he were a harmless spider— there’s no fear or concern, just peeved at how it managed to find its way into your vicinity. “So you’re 21…” You tried pulling more information out of him, “since that’s the age you need to be to order a drink.”
“Soon,” he continues to tiptoe around the truth. “Everyone knows me, though. Nobody's gonna check my I.D.”
Besides, he has a fake. He’s had one since he was 16.
“Oh wow.”
You still didn’t sound very impressed, not that it stopped him. He somehow was able to go home with your number in his phone that day, mainly because he was starting to annoy you, and giving him your number was the easiest way to get him to stop— harmless spider, remember? He was probably more of a gnat at that point, though, but harmless nonetheless.
From that point going forward, you ignored him at the gym and his text messages. You could go on your phone and scroll for a minute before seeing a text sent from your end. Now that you think about it, you only texted him back once.
Unknown Number: i feel like im being edged rn 😔 what’s a man gotta do to get a text back??
You: typing…
You:
You: typing…
You: turn 21
Unknown Number: bet
You read that response and immediately regretted it.
He came back a month later, the day after his birthday, and you unfortunately gave in.
And by giving in, you met him halfway and asked if he wanted to come over. He was hot, but there was no way in hell you wanted to be seen in public with him. Being a man as easy as Satoru, he said yes and spent the entire night putting you in every single position he’s ever imagined having you in. You swear he hit every room on purpose— just bending you over every surface and folding you up in every position.
You’ve never had someone throw you around that much before. He fucked you like it was some god-given right. You were so far gone that you would’ve done anything he told you to; you’re just glad his only goal that night was to impress you.
And he did, hence why you are still letting him come over a couple of times a week. Maybe more, maybe less.
He’s tried to get you to come over to his place before, to which you refused for obvious reasons, and berated him enough to make him never ask you a question as insulting as that ever again.
He’s also tried to coordinate your gym visits in the past.
It was a month into whatever little arrangement you had— you say that because you’ve never made an agreement, aside from telling him to never talk to you, talk about you, or approach you in public.
It would come as a surprise to no one if he spent the whole day there just waiting for you to show up.
He didn’t even give you a chance to go into the locker and put your things away before attempting to walk up to you. You had just walked past the front desk— head down, phone up— and felt like there was something off, and what do you know? He was walking in a straight line towards you as if you hadn’t banned him from speaking to you in public.
Luckily, the women's locker room was directly to your left, so you turned and walked there as fast as your legs could take you. You were pissed, slamming your duffel bag down onto one of the benches to spend a minute or two pacing back and forth. There was no way in hell you were going home, so you pulled up with messages with him and sent him a text.
You: Do not fucking embarrass me.
You: Don’t even come near me.
S. Gojo: fine .
It wasn’t another 20 minutes until you finally stepped out of the locker room, mostly ready to spend the next 30 minutes working out. Usually, it’s 45 minutes to an hour, but you gave yourself some grace, even though you really should’ve been getting the most out of your membership with how pricey it was.
The first 20 minutes were fine— peaceful. You ended up letting your guard down as you fell under the assumption that Satoru left, given how he was nowhere to be found. Then, 2 minutes into using the stairmaster, someone got on the one right next to you, despite the entire row being empty.
He was met with a scowl. The only response he had for it was throwing his palms out and grimacing right back at you, as if to say, I’m not doing anything wrong.
Minutes later, he’s reaching over and grabbing your water bottle to take a sip from. Mind you, he already had one with him. It had more water in it than yours.
That was the moment you knew Satoru really wasn’t shit.
He casually gave it back with a smile, trying to act all cute and be funny, so you sent your water bottle flying at his big head.
“Ow!” he frowns, rubbing the side of his head, having absolutely no right to look as shocked as he did. “That hurt!”
“Suck it up,” you snapped at him in a hushed tone. “You’re lucky I didn’t lodge it down your throat and drown you.”
“Why would you do either?!” he threw his arms out.
“I don’t know— why would you reach over and drink from my water bottle when you have your own?!”
“Because I wanted water that had some of your backwash in it??” he says, as if it should’ve been obvious.
To this day, you still don’t know if he was trying to throw you off or if he was being serious.
“If I hear one more word come out of your mouth while I’m here, even if you’re 10 feet away and talking to someone else, I’m fucking blocking you.”
“. . .” You could see the panic in his eyes as his face dropped. “Okay— 10 feet away is fucking crazy—”
“Stop. Talking.”
He opens his mouth, quickly decides he’d rather not find out if you were bluffing or not, and closes it.
You hated being strict with people— you had no other choice but to be strict with Satoru. You could draw a line, explicitly tell him not to cross it and why, and he’d walk right up to it and tap his toe on the other side, just to see if you’d say anything.
With the way you talk about him and talk to him, it’d be easy to assume that you hated him— you complain about the shit he does, you yell at him often, you look at him at times and start to wonder if he was just a sign sent by god to finally get therapy. But you don’t dislike him, let alone hate him.
On the occasion that you don’t kick him out right after you two fuck, he’s really not that bad to be around. If circumstances were different, you wouldn’t mind being friends with him. He’s easy to talk to, easy to get along with when he’s not actively and purposely fucking around and finding out. You honestly enjoy talking to him here and there.
Truly.
Except for when he’s talking about anything frat-related. More often than not, it’s dumb and genuinely a waste of your time to listen to. Not to mention the fact that you don’t need any more reminders of who you’ve been welcoming into your home.
You were pushing thirty for Christ's sake. It'd be one thing if he were just a one-night stand, but he’s not. He raids your pantry when you’re not looking and, on multiple occasions, has purposely left his boxers behind as some sort of parting gift.
It’s gotten easier with time— the embarrassment that washes over you when he says something stupid, that is. Like whatever went down at some party he threw or some joke one of his “brothers” told him. It’s still a waste of your time, but you’ve grown to just let him talk about it rather than shut him down to avoid that pang of guilt you sometimes get when you’re around him.
There’s the disappointment and the embarrassment, and lately, there’s the odd form of pity you have for him. You’ve always known you were going to have to let Gojo down one day and cut things off completely, you’re not quite sure how he’d take it, though.
There was some hope that he’d get bored with you and move on to someone new, but that’s slowly diminishing. He’s volunteered to get tested for STDs weekly and sends you the results. He hasn’t slept with anyone else, either, which is shocking. You’ve gotten a glimpse of his phone and his messages, all of which were unopened texts from the girls he’s probably led on in the past— ignoring them all for a woman who does the same to him more than half the time.
Sometimes you wonder if he notices that, too. He has to. You say he’s stupid all the time, but he’s smarter than he lets on.
—
S. Gojo: how’s my pretty girl doing?? ((:
You: what do u want
S. Gojo: 😭damn not even a question mark?? I didn’t even ask u for anything 😔
You: i can tell when u want something. now what is it
S. Gojo: can i come over after practice today? pretty please
S. Gojo: it ends at 3 today
You: im not even home
S. Gojo: ik i have a key
You: you took my spare key?
You: give it back
S. Gojo: today? (:
You: im not even home by then. I don’t want u there, you’re gonna make a mess
S. Gojo: wtf? I never make a mess
You: what do you even wanna come over for
S. Gojo: i don’t wanna be home later
You: why
S. Gojo: there’s a few sorority girls coming over and they don’t like me
You: why
S. Gojo: it’s just bc of some bet during freshman years
S. Gojo: they’re not over it
You: pig
S. Gojo: i didn’t even tell you what it was!
You: please don’t
You: but ya, no. go to the library or something
S. Gojo: PLEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEE
S. Gojo: FUCK i’ll have takeout ready for you when you get off work ffs
S. Gojo: have some compassion these bitches are gonna try to CHOP my DICK off PLEASE
You: maybe you never deserved one to begin with
S. Gojo: BRO???
You: kiddinggg
You: have some pad thai ready for me. I also expect the place to be vacuumed
S. Gojo: i got u
S. Gojo: i can do your laundry too if you want
You: stop trying to sniff my panties you fucking freak
S. Gojo: ):
You’re home at 5:15 on the dot, and you’re met with the lovely smell of all-purpose cleaner despite only telling Satoru to vacuum. So naturally, you’re in a good mood when you walk into the living room and hang your purse up in the hallway.
Satoru’s on the couch, turning to look at you and doing that stupid nod he does when he doesn’t feel like verbally greeting someone.
You slip out of your heels and walk up. “Did you clean the kitchen?”
“A little,” he hums, taking the opportunity to pretty much eye fuck you since you don’t pay much attention to him as you look into the kitchen.
“What do you want?” you ask suspiciously, turning to look at him lounging back on your couch, half-naked. He’s got nothing but a pair of socks and rugby shorts on, and you can’t help but take a look at his thighs. You don’t ask why his titties are out on display, though, knowing he’d make a comment about how hard he worked cleaning the place.
“Nothin’,” he shrugs, feigning innocence. The slight twitch of his lip right after gives him away, not that you give it much attention. “How was work?”
“Long,” you yawn. “Slow, too— felt like I was on my phone the entire time.”
He tilts his head, getting ready to fuck with you despite it not even being 5 minutes since you walked through the door. “Are you complaining about doing nothing at work today?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mimic his tone. “I hate looking at the clock all day.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I’m gonna remember this the next time you complain about work being too busy.”
You smile and hum. “Do that, and I’m shoving my socks down your throat.”
“Kinky.” You start to walk away, and Satoru takes the opportunity to reach over the couch, biting his lip as he strikes a palm over your ass. “What else are you tryna do to me?”
“Choke you,” you boredly say as you walk into your room, but end up smiling when you hear him laugh. You come out a couple of minutes later in a pair of shorts and a tank top. “Where’s the food?”
“The fridge,” he responds, seemingly distracted.
Only for him to grab your wrist right before you walk past behind him.
You whip your head around and click your tongue. “What?” you whine, eyes narrowing as you shoot him an irritated look.
“How hungry are you right now?” he asks, tongue in cheek as he keeps a firm grip on your wrists.
“Hungry enough.”
“Starving?” There’s an obnoxious glint in his eyes as he asks.
You scoff. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Mmmmmm, a little.” He blatantly checks you out as he hums, not struggling to hold on to your wrist at all. He leans over the couch to get a better look at your shorts, his other hand reaching forward to snap your shorts against your skin. “I like these.”
“Let me guess, you’d like them better on the floor.”
“Something like that— come here,” He stifles a laugh, pulling you closer until you're up against the couch. He snakes an arm around your waist to keep you from leaving, pressing kisses all over your chest. “Been waiting for you forever– give me a minute or two.”
“You expect me to believe it’ll just be a minute or two?” You smile, trying to keep your breath from hitching as he gets closer to your neck.
“Mhm. It’s a lie, though.” He places one last kiss against your collarbone, then pulls a hum out of you as he licks a slow, fat stripe up your neck. He tops it off with a couple of kisses along your jaw before nipping at your ear. “How about I work up that appetite a little, hm?”
Your lids grow heavy, each word growing breathier than the last with each kiss and touch. “My stomach’s gonna start hurting.”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs, running his big hand down your back to your ass, giving it a squeeze before his palm lands on it. “You won’t be thinking about it.”
He steps over the couch and starts nudging you towards your room, dick print against the fabric of his shorts on full display.
“No?”
“Nope,” the grin on his face grows, “I’ll keep you distracted.”
And distracted you were.
Whining as you trembled and clenched around his cock while he worked it into you. You’re at the edge of the bed— bent over for him, back in the craziest arch as he gives you the deepest strokes. The round metal studs under his tip add the right amount of pressure as it drags over your gummy spot.
He leans back, suppressing a laugh at the sight of your fucked out face and the creamy ring already starting to grow around his base. He’s barely done anything, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw drool stains right where your face is pressed up against. It’s always like this, your attitude just magically disappearing the moment he gets near your pussy. Doesn’t matter if it’s his dick, his fingers, his tongue— they’ve all made the miracle of getting you to say please happen.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, just mesmerized at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you. His attention only gets pulled away once he hears a soft, drawn-out moan leave your lips, his hands unconsciously moving up to your hips for him to knead. “You alright?”
“Mhm— go faster.” The demand sounds so sweet falling from your lips, how could he say no?
He rests a knee against the bed and leans over your body. Chest pressed up against your back, caging you in. You rest your head on his forearm, unknowingly letting him get a full view of the tears he’s about to give you. He picks up the pace, angling himself just right with each thrust, watching your eyebrows slightly pinch as your breathing picks up.
“Can’t believe you wanted to wait for this,” he starts to poke fun at you, and it somehow goes straight to your core. “The hell were you thinkin’, huh?”
“I don’t know,” you murmur.
“Were you thinking at all?”
“Shut up.” You get whinier with the change of pace. “Can you just– mmh yeah.”
“Yeah?” He grins as you lose your train of thought, rolling his hips nice and slow, working his tip right over that spot that has you curling your toes. “Like that?”
“Mhm,” you hum, fingers starting to dig into his bicep as the praises slowly fall from your mouth. “Feels so good.”
“I knoww– you’re droolin’ on my arm already,” he stifles a laugh as he mocks you, brushing some hair out of your face to grab your chin, turning your head toward him.
He leans down to kiss you, and it’s nothing short of messy. It's all tongue and wet smacks once he held you down and crashed his lips into yours, just rough and hungry. Greed is what comes to mind once you pull away— lips all swollen and covered in spit, out of breath, heat creeping up your neck.
It’s just selfish— who grabs people like that?
The hand on your jaw wraps around your neck, and you soon find yourself taking in a sharp breath as Satoru crashes his lips into yours again. His hips continue to rock into you, grinding every inch of himself up against your gummy walls, trying to knock the air out of you as he tries to take it for himself.
He bites your bottom lip, and you’re giggling as he slowly pulls back, dying out at your throat once he gets back to work. His shallow thrusts grow deep, making your eyes start to glaze over as the fat head of his cock hits and rubs against a spot you’re sure only he can reach.
“Ready?” he murmurs in your ear.
“What are you–”
He bites your bottom lip, then starts fucking you like you owed him your soul or something. He drills every single inch of his cock into you, the sharp sounds of his hips striking against your ass cutting through the air, nearly bringing you to tears from how overwhelming it all is.
“F-Fuck!” you choke out a whine, shoving your face down on the bed, unable to keep up with how fast he’s going. Your cunt stretches around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing around his length as he pounds you into the bed. Low groans slip through his lips as he sees a mess of slick and cream starting to coat his shaft.
He goes faster. The obscene wet slaps of him pounding your pussy and his heavy balls slapping against your clit grow louder, messier. You’re clawing at your sheets and holding back choked moans each time he slams his tip against your cervix. Your legs start to tremble, struggling to keep them open when each thrust pushes you forward with all the force behind them.
You start to feel something in your core begin to wrap up and coil, and you are not ready for it. You find yourself crawling forward, trying to close your thighs, all without even realizing it. Satoru lets out a laugh that fades into a low groan as your walls squeeze and tremble around him.
He teases you as he drags you back by your hips, his ragged voice dripping in amusement.
“You running from me, baby? Where’s this pussy goin’, huh?” He nudges your thighs back apart with his knee, pulling you back on his cock and holding you in place, hips flush against your ass as he lazily grinds into you.
“Yeah, c'mere— m’not done with you yet.” he rasps, picking up the pace back up again until a messy wet squelch can be heard between you as he pounds you out. He presses your back further down into an arch, fucking into you at a deeper angle. “Mmmm— there we go— just stay right there for me.”
“Sa— fuck— t-toru!” Your breath shatters as you gasp, pressure starting to build all over again.
You don’t see the way he smirks when you cry his name like that.
“I know— M’sorry, baby.”
He’s not. A hand slides up your spine to get a fistful of your hair, pulling you up against his chest in one swift go. His pace doesn’t falter as a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you against him while his lips graze the shell of your ear.
“Look how good I’m fuckin’ you, though— looks like you’re about to start crying.” He smiles, feeling you squeeze around him as the messy squelch in between your legs becomes more pronounced.
“T-too much,” you sputter out.
“You should probably cum them,” he offers as if it were a simple solution. “If you want, I can work it out of ya.”
“F-fuck,” you inhale sharply. “Please.”
He lets out a low, pleased hum before he just starts slamming into you, making the bed shake as he starts to knock the absolute wind out of you. His free hand snakes down, slipping down in between your legs until the pads of his fingers find your clit. You tense as he presses on it firmly, breath faltering once he starts rubbing little circles.
His grip around your waist tightens as he keeps going, not minding your nails as they start scratching and digging into his arm. Soon you’re let out a sharp cry, trembling as you start gushing all over his cock.
And the way you pussy clamps down and just starts milking him has his thrust growing sloppy, fucking you both through it.
“Fuck— fuuck,” he lets out a breathy groan, doubling over and nearly squeezing you to death when he starts pumping you full of hot cum, flooding your sensitive walls. He breathes heavy, grinding against you, giving you every last drop. “Shit— that was so fuckin’ good— are you alright?”
You’re lying limp in his arms, nodding weakly, trying to catch your breath. “Uh-huh”
“You’re so shaky right now,” he heaves, gently letting you down on the bed. “I fucked you good this time.”
“Shut up,” you barely snap at him, “Go get me my food, I can’t fucking walk right now.”
“Fuck— I’m sorry. Don’t kick me out.”
“Get me my fucking food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, putting his boxers on and walking out of your room with a little smile on his face.
. . .
He’s leaning against the fridge as he lets his mind run off for a bit, aside from the microwave whirring in the background, it’s quiet— a rare occurrence for Satoru. He doesn’t snap back to reality until he hears footsteps coming up behind him.
He looks over his shoulder to see you back in the clothes he nearly ripped trying to get off you. And that you’re walking perfectly fine.
“Thought you couldn’t walk,” he points at you, gesturing his finger up and down.
“So did I,” you shrug, wrapping your fingers around the fridge handle and pulling it open to retrieve a white claw. You can physically feel Satoru staring at you, while something in your spirit is telling you that he’s waiting for you to offer him one.
You crack it open as you turn to look at him.
“Can I help you?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Initially, his eyes drift to the drink in your hand and look at it quite longingly. “That looks good.”
“It is good,” you say, then obnoxiously take a sip. “Pairs really well with noodles.”
“I’m sure.” His tones flat as he looks back at the drink.
You have no idea why he’s so set on waiting for you to offer him one, but you eventually do because you’d rather not get into some weird silent war with him. “Would you like one?”
“Yes, I would,” he says with a blissful sigh, reaching into the fridge to get one for himself.
The microwave beeps, you open it, and take the plate out yourself. “You know you can just grab one, right?”
The can cracks and he takes a sip, then nods. “I know, I just wanted you to offer me one.”
“Yeah, you made that pretty obvious,” you laugh and walk to the living room, and Satoru naturally follows. “Do you want some of my food, too?”
“No— appreciate you asking, though.”
“Sure,” you say, before muttering, “weirdo.”
He’s the first one to grab the remote and put something on, taking advantage of the fact that you haven’t pushed him out yet, like you do 60% percent of the time. The 40% is too random for him to be able to tell when it’ll happen next.
You weren’t planning on kicking him out too soon today, though, since he’s currently hiding from an entire group of women.
“Wait, so what did you do to get those girls to hate you?”
“Got dared to homie hop.” He casually shrugs, taking a sip from the can. “Over the course of one weekend.”
“What is wrong with you?” you ask with the utmost disappointment.
He points to himself. “In my defense, I was 18.”
“I guess.” You stifle a laugh before feeding yourself another fork full of food. “I’m surprised they still hate you that much.”
“Yeah, I got dared to do it again last year,” he finally mentions, just as casual as the last time.
You pause for a moment as you try to think of an answer. You never do. “Yeah, I think I’d hate you, too.”
He delusionally brushes you off. “You would’ve loved me. I’m a great friend.”
There's a contemplative look on your face as you tilt your head, thinking of all he’s revealed to you about himself, which is probably just a 3rd of all he’s done. “I’m sure you are.”
“I am,” he scoffs.
“Yeah— that’s what I said.” You laugh, wiping the side of your mouth off with a napkin before throwing it on the empty plate, getting up to put it away.
You're in the kitchen when Satoru raises his voice to say something to you.
“I am your friend, right?” he asks.
You close the dishwasher and walk back out into the living room, there’s a slight pout on his face as he walks for an answer.
“Yeah,” you let out an amused sigh. “You’re my special friend.”
“Yeah?” He sinks further back into the sofa, looking more pleased. “Special enough to talk to outside of here?”
“Fuck no,” you say with zero hesitation, wiping the smile off his face again. “You wouldn’t be special anymore. Is that what you want? You wanna be an average normie?”
There are two things in this world that Satoru would never want to be— average and poor.
He crosses his arms and scoffs. “You really know how to turn a situation around on other people, don’t you? That’s pretty evil, y’know that?”
You feign innocence, looking at him all concerned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever,” he rises from his seat, accepting your evil nature and his role as your special little slut. “Can we shower together?”
You give a bored look, knowing he’s gonna try to get you to scrub his back. “Fine.”
. . .
Tonight’s just like every other Friday night. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls, loud conversations happening in every direction. Most people are having a good time, while some are crying their eyes out over something that’ll seem minuscule a couple years from now. The only thing that’s changed is Satoru hasn’t, and most likely won't, bring a girl up to his room tonight.
For once, all of his attention is on playing his fifth round of beer pong.
The guys will still give him shit for the sudden change, but it was never a bad thing, just odd. They’ve given up on theories as to why after realizing Satoru really wasn’t going to cave and tell them this time around. Not even Suguru. He doesn’t need to ask, though, he knows Satoru is fucking someone. With how secretive he’s been though, he’s most likely sneaking around with someone that’ll get him in trouble if word gets out. Like the wife of one of his father's very affluent and important friends, perhaps? It was on brand for him.
It wasn’t that serious. Suguru will find out, eventually. He just hopes it doesn’t end badly for his friend that’s brought enough scandals for his family, being the problem child he’s always been. Hell, he’s being problematic right now, pulling Suguru out of his thoughts as some poor girl tugs on Satoru’s shirt.
Suguru has no idea what she said to him, but he steps in a little closer, pretending to focus on the game as he listens to whatever his friend has to say. Satoru barely looks at her and responds, not only rudely, but with quite possibly the most ridiculous words Suguru has ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Sorry, sweetheart– I like my women a little more grown.”
Mind you, they were in the same year.
She laughs, there’s still stars in her eyes as she looks at him. “Wait, what?”
He shortens it. “M’not interested.”
“Why?” she asks, eyes growing dull.
And Satoru, having already lost his patience, takes a step back and looks at her from head to toe, looking for another reason. It’s quite embarrassing— standing there and waiting for someone to figure out what they don’t like about you.
“Yeaah, no.” He takes another look at her. “You just don’t do it for me— sorry.”
You’d think it’d be fine since he didn’t point out any of her features, but being told you ‘don’t do it’ for someone that you’ve already fucked doesn’t feel very good, nor does realizing that he completely forgot that they have, multiple times. He’s gotten drunk and fucked a lot of people. Keyword: Drunk. He doesn’t remember most of the time, hence his initial confusion when she threw a drink in his face.
Unfazed, he wipes the remnants of her drink off his face, throwing her off in the process as he treats it like it’s a common occurrence and that he’s used to it (he’s very used to it).
“You just proved my fuckin’ point,” Satoru says, still unimpressed as he takes his shirt off and continues to casually wipe himself off. “Grow up.”
The comment makes her realize he was being dead serious with his original reason for rejecting her, even though he had zero problem with fucking her at the beginning of the year. “Oh fuck you, Gojo,” she ends up cursing at him as she storms off, furious and embarrassed.
“Yeah– not happening!” he laughs and yells back loud enough for her to hear.
Suguru just laughs because fucking called it. He totally was seeing someone older, and Satoru's response gave it away. Suguru doesn’t mention it, though. “You coulda been a little nicer, y’know?”
“Whatever,” he waves him off, knowing he could’ve been ruder, but chose not to. “I’ll probably never see her again after graduation, anyway.”
Suguru shrugs. “You never know.”
Satoru ruffles his hair with the semi-damp t-shirt in his hand, wondering why his friend decided to embrace his inner Gandhi when he’s just as bad as him. Satoru literally watched him tell a girl to stop crying after he cut things off with her, then added salt to the wound by giving her some speech about how she wouldn’t run after a snake and explain how being bitten made her feel. Suguru wasn’t technically wrong, but he did not have to say all that. With that being said, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to Suguru lecture him any more though, and lets the comment go.
“I’m gonna go wash the rest of this shit off,” he says, referring to the sheer pink stain on his hair.
Suguru pats his back a couple of times as he continues to laugh. “Have fun with that. Try not to run into her or friends.”
Satoru hoped not, that mini-meltdown was enough for him. He wasn’t stumbling or anything, but having to walk through crowds to get to his room made him realize he was drunker than he realized, not that it made him feel any remorse for the words he said. They did not warrant getting a drink thrown in his face.
The first thing he does when he gets to his room is kick out a couple making out on his bed, throwing a couple of insults and threats their way as they scurry out of his room. Then he walks into his bathroom to wash his hair off in the sink, which leads to him completely stripping down in frustration and hopping in the shower, in hopes that it’d sober him up a bit.
It doesn’t— it just makes him want to call it a night.
He dries himself off and throws on a pair of boxers and sweats before sitting down on his bed with his phone in hand. His thumb hovers over the call button as he stares at your contact. The room continues to spin as he wonders if you were even awake. It was pushing midnight.
After spending way too much time wondering if you’d answer, his thumb hits the screen. The phone rings once. Twice. Then a third time.
“What do you think you’re doing calling me this late?” you immediately grill him, your smooth and unhurried tone making you sound more amused than anything.
He smiles as he stifles a laugh. “I can’t call you and say what’s up now?”
“People don’t usually call someone at midnight to say what's up.”
“M’not like other people,” he chuckles, though you know deep down inside, he wouldn’t dare put himself in the same category as a regular person. There isn’t one mirror he’s walked by and hasn’t looked at— the way Satoru looks at his own reflection could send anyone into a crisis, wondering if their spouses really did love them as much as they claimed.
“Yeah, you’re real different,” you respond blandly, coming off as trying to knock him down a peg, when really you’re just trying to move on. “Anyways, what do you want?”
“You should let me come over,” he doesn’t hesitate to say, slurring his words slightly.
“No.”
He pulls his phone away from his ear and looks at it with his brows pinched together, all hurt from how you didn’t even bother thinking about it before giving him an answer.
“Why not?” he grumbles, finding himself more offended than usual. “I miss you.”
He’s reminded that you don’t actually hate him when you begin to laugh at how endearing he can be, even when he’s just complaining. “I saw you two days ago.”
“What can I say, baby?” he murmurs, the stupid grin on his face widening when he hears you click your tongue. “You make it hard not to with that tight little p—”
Are you drunk right now?” You cut him off, wiping the smile right off that little pervert's face.
“Maybe.”
He hears you let out a disgusted scoff on the other side of the phone. “Ew, no. I don’t wanna fuck you when you’re all drunk and sloppy.”
At first, he lets out this noise that can only be described as what a pout would sound like if you could hear it. “First of all, I’m not sloppy. Second, I wasn’t asking to fuck, just let me spend the night. It’s loud here— buncha’ hooligans running around.”
“So you can fuck with my sleep?”
“Baby, I would never fuck with your beauty sleep,” he swears. “I’m a beast— not a fuckin’ monster.”
“You are such a fucking loser.” You pinch your nosebridge as you sigh and mutter under your breath. “You’ll be fine. Just take another shot and put some earplugs in.”
“I don’t have any!”
“Headphones then,” you curtly say. “Anyways, I’m going to bed now—”
“No, wait—”
“Good night~”
Click.
Satoru’s left staring at the wall in disbelief, jaw all the way to the floor. Surely you could’ve offered him a couch— but you didn’t bother, and the thought adds to the betrayal that’s already exacerbated from all the shots he’s taken earlier. It doesn’t go away, it just simmers once he’s processed the fact that you basically told him that he could suffer and fucking die, for all you cared, before hanging up.
The music’s so loud that the walls are fucking shaking, there’s no point in noise cancelling headphones when he can feelhow loud it is. His eyes dart between his phone, his dresser, and the door before finally getting up with an irritated sigh.
“Fuck this.”
. . .
Instead of sleeping, like you said you would when hanging up on Satoru, you continued to watch what you put on the tv prior to answering your phone. Though with how late it was, your eyes inevitably grew heavier with each blink, and you found yourself beginning to doze off.
Until a knock on the door and the muffled sound of your name being called snaps you right back to reality.
“I swear to god if that’s—” you begin murmuring to yourself as you walk up to the door, cutting yourself off because no shit it’s Satoru. You can’t think of anybody else who would still come over despite being told no.
You swing the door open, annoyed that it doesn’t swing outwards, it would’ve been nice to hit him with it. He’s leaning against the entryway to stop himself from swaying in place, as carefree as ever.
“What are you doing here?!”
Immediately, he begins to beg. “You have got to let me sleep here— some nasty couple fucked on my bed and there’s a group of psychos hunting me down with pitchforks.”
He was not going back there, and if a little truth-twisting is what it takes to get you to let him, then so be it.
Your face twists in annoyance. “Hunt you down for what?!”
“For turning one of them down.” He throws his arms out, pretending to be outraged. “Threw a drink in my face and everything just because I wouldn’t fuck her! And now my bed smells like rotten fish—”
“Just get inside,” you snap at him, feeling an incoming headache starting to form from his theatrics.
“Thank you.”
Despite showering and brushing his teeth, you can still smell some of the alcohol radiating off of him as he walks past you. Irritated, you shut the door a little too harshly, missing the way the man flinched as he stood there and waited for you. You completely ignore him, walking to the coffee table and picking up the remote to turn the T.V off. You walk off to your room after, with Satoru following right behind you like a lost puppy.
The decorative pillows get plucked off the bed one by one. The only reason why he doesn’t ask if you need help with anything is that he is a little too scared to ask. You pull the duvet back and whip your head around to look at him.
“Get in,” you order, and he quickly walks around to the other side, pulling his shirt over his head and leaving his sweats on. “And do not wake me up tonight.”
“Kay’,” he says quietly, slipping the covers.
You follow, after killing the lights, sighing as you lay your head back and close your eyes. He awkwardly lies there at first, arms pulling the blanket up to his chest, staring at the ceiling. It’s not how he sleeps, and frankly, he is really fucking uncomfortable. He’s also scared to move right now.
But Satoru is Satoru, and at the very last minute, turns and snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He slides a leg in between yours, and you open your mouth to protest, only to get cut off by his slightly nervous voice.
“Good night.”
. . .
Satoru wakes up twice.
Once at 6:00 am to a pounding headache. He got up to look for an over the counter painkiller. Luckily, he found some in the first cabinet he opened in your kitchen and downed more than he should’ve before getting back in bed, throwing an arm and a leg over you, and falling back asleep.
Then again, at 11:00 am, when he hears some shuffling around the room and realizes you are no longer next to him.
He opens one eye and mumbles, “Where are you going?”
You’re in a hurry as you put a pair of socks on. “To a pilates class.”
“Can I come?” he pops his head up and asks, struggling to open both eyes.
There’s an incredulous look on your face when you pause and look at him. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, you look like a fucking mess right now.” He didn’t really need to hear that, he already figured it out since he feels like one right now. “Two, I don’t need you sitting alone in the corner, watching me for an hour straight.”
“That’s mean as fuck.”
“Not one lie was told,” you argue back, getting the last sock on and rising to your feet. “I’m not kicking you out just yet, so you can stay if you want.”
“Oh, I fuckin’ will.” It comes out as if kicking him out was never an option to begin with, earning himself a little side eye that he was too busy stretching his arms out to notice. You quickly let it go, figuring the hangover was doing a number on him. “Do you have food?”
“Yeah, just look around in the fridge.” You look at your watch, then throw your bag over your shoulder after realizing you’re just barely running on time. “I’ll be back in like an hour.”
“Kay’,” he yawns, lying back against the pillow and closing his eyes once you're out of view.
As much as his head hurts, he’s glad he’s suffering here and not at the house. It’s quiet, your bed’s comfy, time actually feels like it’s running slow for once. There are another 15 minutes of peace before it is ruined by the ring of his phone.
Before he reaches for it on the nightstand, he takes a few seconds to shove his face into the pillow and let out a slew of curses. He picks up the phone and answers, as if his head wasn’t pounding more than ever.
It’s Suguru, who’s not as concerned as he is confused. “Hey, so— you’re not home.”
“M’not,” Satoru mumbles.
Suguru gives him room to explain, but speaks again when he realizes Satoru’s not going to take any of it. “Where are you then?” Again, not concerned, just confused.
“At a friend’s,” Satoru vaguely says. Even in his current fucked up state, he still remembers that you don’t want him talking about you at all.
“...and this is the friend that you’re not fucking and avoiding everyone for, right?”
He lets out a laugh. “Exactly.”
At least Suguru’s smart and is able to read between the lines, meaning that was enough information for him. “Alright.” He laughs with him. “I’ll let you go then. Have fun with your friend.”
“I will.”
Right after he hangs up, he hears another notification go off that’s not from his phone. He hears the ping a couple more times and quickly realizes it’s your phone hiding under the sheets. You were in too much of a rush to realize you forgot to bring it with you.
Satoru’s not one to look through someone else’s phone. He never has, never cared to, never felt the need to. So fighting the urge not to was not only something new, but incredibly fucking difficult. It’s literally right in his hand. He even knows your passcode from the one time he watched you unlock it because his memory’s perfect.
One minute. He’ll just give himself one minute to take a peek.
. . .
It’s been several.
Putting it down, while he’s in the middle of scrolling through a particular conversation, feels impossible. Even when he knows he’s just ruining his own morning by looking at it, he continues to read and make mental notes.
His names Shiu. 37 years old. Moderately successful.
Boring as fuck.
He can tell when someone’s forcing themselves to keep a conversation alive, and can’t wrap his head around why you’d even bother when it’s over shit you have zero interest in. Shiu hasn’t even complimented you once. Nothing about you physically, not even the bare minimum of making a comment about how he enjoys talking to you, since it’s you carrying all of these dry, meaningless conversations.
It's like he just expects you to talk to him.
He continues to scroll, getting closer to the more recent messages, and Satoru finally sees something interesting. Not for you or Shiu, but for him. Reservations for your date next weekend. The first date.
And also your last.
. . .
Before you met him, Shiu wasn’t someone you’d ever imagined yourself being with. He’s calm, quiet, and more of a listener than he was a talker. Not much of a joker or a gossiper.
He was just stable. Rooted. Shiu is a man who couldn’t be moved.
He was a safe choice. A smart one. A mellow man with a successful career. Given your track record of failed relationships with men that you chose based on how exciting you found them, maybe it was time to be smarter.
Some may say it was settling, but you say it’s being practical and choosing what’s best for you.
After a few weeks of casual texting, you were finally having dinner with him tonight. You weren’t exactly excited, but you weren’t nervous either— maybe this is him rubbing off of you.
You’re not sure, honestly.
It feels like there’s something missing, and in its place is the weight of something that refuses to show itself to you, as if its sole purpose was to burden you with confusion.
You take one last look at yourself before you leave, smoothing your hand over the long, tight black dress you chose to wear. Flattering, not too revealing. The same for your shoes, just simple black kitten heels.
At the last minute, Satoru manages to squeeze his way into your mind as you randomly recall the last time you saw him, which was exactly a week ago. The only thing that was off was his supernatural ability to bounce back from a hangover in under an hour. He was fine by the time you got home— at least fine enough to follow you into the bathroom for some shower sex.
You haven’t heard from him since he went home that day. You should be relieved, you wanted him to get bored with you and pull away, yet here you are, wondering why you haven’t heard from him.
. . .
Shiu wasn’t a man who couldn’t be moved— that would require being passionate about something, and so far, he’s about as dry as a matchstick.
And maybe there is something that he’s passionate about, but you doubt it. It’s not necessarily a complaint, just a change in the way you saw him. Shame on you for building up a false idea of him in your head.
At least he’s still calm and quiet— you’re just hoping that all there is to him.
As for now, Shiu was like a constant stream of water that never changed in temperature. He was a place on earth where the weather never changed. A solid 70 degrees, every single day. Acceptable. Easy to digest. Nothing out of the ordinary is ever likely to happen with him.
He’s still a safe choice.
You’re not exactly sure how it’d be what’s best for you, though. You liked surprises— they turned an ordinary day into a day worth remembering— a life without them was just a forgotten past and pointless future.
You could be acting a little dramatic over it right now, but you are honestly sick and fucking tired of getting absolutely nowhere with all the guys you’ve dated and spoken to.
Which is why you push yourself to consider that Shiu could just be a little shy, it's only 15 minutes into your date after all. You remind yourself that opening up takes time, for reasons that make only you feel better.
You haven’t had a quarter life crisis yet, but learning that you’ve spent all this time swinging sledge hammers and wrecking balls at a safe that’s been empty from the start might finally take you there.
You take a sip of your wine and set it back down. “Do you know what you’re gonna order?”
He slowly shakes his head, humming indecisively. “Not yet.”
You wait for him to say something else, but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t. “You mentioned it’s your 9th time coming here. Do you have any favorites that you reorder?”
He hums again. “Nah. The food here’s decent, but I haven’t had anything that’s stood out to me just yet.”
It’s not often people leave you speechless, especially on first dates, but here you are. Tight lipped, eye threatening to twitch.
“Wow— you’re 9th time here, and you still haven’t found a dish that left you satisfied at the end of the meal?”
You’re really hoping he backtracks and corrects you. Coming to a restaurant you don’t like that many times was one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever heard.
“Not yet,” he smiles and shakes his head, as if wasting his time and money on a restaurant he didn’t like was just a silly little quirk of his. “Maybe today will be the day.”
Why the fuck would he take you here?
“Fingers crossed,” you force out a light laugh, feeling your patience start to fade. “So you’re just gonna keep coming here until you’ve gone through the entire menu?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he chuckles, not catching the slight irritation in your tone. “What can you do, you know?”
“I mean… you can always try new restaurants,” you suggest.
“Nah.” He waves a hand as if that's doing too much. “Easy to stay here. I already know what to expect.”
It took the amount of discipline a sergeant had to hold back on saying that this wasn’t the doctor's office or the fucking barber shop.
You can absolutely check other places out.
Does this guy not understand free will exists?
“Makes sense,” you lie, pushing out all the enthusiasm you’re able to put forward. “No point in fixing something if it’s not broken, you know?”
“Exactly,” he proudly nods.
“There you two are!”
…You were going to kill yourself if it’s who you think it is.
At first, you ignored the familiar voice and instead took an extra big sip of wine.
He hates being ignored though, so instead of pulling up a seat between you and your date as he had originally planned, he sits right next to Shiu and smiles at the way you instantly freeze.
You hate to admit how good he looked tonight. His hair’s styled for once, loosely brushed back with some expensive styling cream. You can’t help but notice how much sharper his eyes look with his hair out of his face. More rough and intimidating. He was in a white button up, tailored to perfection, rolled up at his elbows, leaving the top buttons of the shirt unbuttoned to show off the chain he always wore. Grey tweed trousers, also tailored to perfection.
“My bad— ran into some traffic on the way here.”
Satoru turns to Shiu, who’s even more confused than you, and holds his hand out for a handshake, giving him a veryformal introduction.
Afterwards, Satoru proceeds to pluck the menu out of your date's hand.
“Alright, Shiu, what are we getting tonight?”
Shiu is visibly appalled when he looks at you, but doesn’t say anything because he’s never had a stranger do that before. Especially when the stranger’s as eccentric as Satoru.
“I— I don’t know.” Your date stumbles on his words at first from the surprise of Satoru’s sudden appearance. “I didn’t get to finish looking through the menu.”
“Wait— really?”
Satoru looks at his watch and sees how you two have been here for nearly 20 minutes, and he still hasn’t picked something. He doesn’t wait for a response and hands the menu back since he already found what he liked, which sucks for you because now he can direct his attention elsewhere.
He leans back and nods at you, because you haven’t spoken at all yet.
“What’re you getting?” You catch the split second his entire expression darkens. He is fucking pissed.
“The cod and asparagus,” you murmur.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” he says through a smile, playing it off as a joke even though you both know it’s not. “Your palate sucks though, so I’m not surprised.”
“Yeah, no— it’s fucking awful,” you let out a laugh. “I need to start eating better— feels like I’ve been eating nothing but junk the past few months.”
His face drops, and just before he’s about to say something 10x ruder, Shiu cuts in.
“I’m sorry, I’m still confused,” he takes several steps back to about 5 minutes ago, “was there some sort of mix up here? I thought this was a date-date, not a dinner with… friends.” Shiu looks back at you, and you’re no help, you’re just glaring.
“A date?” Satoru huffs out a laugh, making the man look like an idiot for even thinking this was a date. “It’s been dinner this whole time. You’re the one who booked a reservation for four, our other friend couldn’t make it.”
Shiu's face twists in confusion. “What? No, no, no— I booked the reservation under two.”
“No, you didn’t. It was booked under four,” he sadly breaks it to him. “You can go ask the receptionist if you want, but I swear it’s four.”
Shiu gets up from his seat to go talk to the receptionist, because he knows he booked it for two— he’s not fucking crazy.
And it’s true, he’s not. Satoru’s the crazy one here.
He’s still gonna go home believing he is though, since the receptionist got paid to change the booking information and lie to him.
Satoru laughs just thinking about it, then downs the rest of Shiu’s wine, ready to gaslight him over that, too.
Finally, he looks back at you and feels a sick sense of satisfaction. You’re angry… baffled, in complete and utter disbelief— you’re looking at him like you’re two seconds away from jumping over the table and strangling him.
Though in the end, you gather yourself together as you finally ask: “What are you doing here, Satoru?”
“Why the fuck are you on a date with someone right now?” His tone clipped, it sounds like he’s about to throw a fit.
“I—“ you stop for a moment, reminding yourself not to yell. “Satoru, we’re not in a relationship.”
“Fine, then,” he decides to rephrase it, “why are you trying to replace me? And with him? Seriously?!”
“What’s wrong with him?!”
“He looks like a sleazy pornstar from the 80s!”
“Not everything is about looks—“
He laughs and cocks his head to the side. “Ok, what is it then? Is his dick bigger than mine?”
Your brows pinch together. Of course, he’s worried about that. “No— I haven’t even seen it yet.”
“Yet?!” his voice broke.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
You try to use a more stern tone to get him to relax, but you don’t think it’ll work. Satoru looks fucking devastated.
“What’s next, you're gonna have babies with him?”
Your jaw drops at his conclusion. “What? No! Do you not realize how dramatic you sound right now?”
“I’m being replaced by a man with fucking pornstache!” he points to himself and says.
“Excuse me?” You’re both interrupted by a timid waitress. “Um– the man that was here earlier just left.”
“I’m not surprised,” you mutter until your breath.
“Yeah…” she sighs, almost apologizing for it. “Were you guys ready to order?”
You glance back at Satoru, and he’s looking away with his arms crossed. “Could I just get the bill for the drinks?”
“Oh, no worries about that! It’s all been covered already by Mr. Gojo. You can just head out when you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course! Have a good n–” she cuts herself off, knowing damn well you weren’t. “Take care.”
You would’ve laughed at how timid she was if you weren’t so irritated, and instead just nod and smile. You look back at the date crasher, contemplating whether you should thank him or not for trying to cover the bill, but hold off, knowing he probably only did it to assert even more dominance over your date than he already has.
“We’re leaving.” You rise up and grab your purse. Satoru doesn't even look at you, let alone move an inch, because he’s throwing a fucking tantrum, so you slam your hand on the table. “Get up.”
He gets up.
There’s a slight pout on Satoru’s face as he follows you out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. His hands are shoved in his pockets, dragging his feet.
“Where’s your car?” you ask.
“There,” he mumbled and nodded in its direction, then suddenly, you’re pinching his ear and yanking on it.
“Ow—”
“Walk,” you say through gritted teeth, pinching harder.
“Ow– fuck– I am,” he chokes out. “Ow, ow, ow.”
You continued to drag him through the parking lot, ignoring his pleas for you to let go.
“Suck it up,” you coldly respond. “You were asking for it when you crashed my date.”
“I’m sorry, I… ugh— I’m really not, he was lame as fuck, but still— your nails, ow.”
“Exactly, so get over it,” you continue to scold him. “Can’t believe you fucking did that.”
“Because you—”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” you cut him off, giving his ear one last tug, leaving him next to the driver's side door of his car. “Take me home. Now.”
synopsis . Moaning the wrong name during sex. content . afab!reader, ticking gojo off on purpose, rough sex, slight brat taming, dirty talk, etc.
He didn't hear you right. Surely. Cause there's no way you just moaned the name Suguru while your husband's currently balls deep inside you, right?
Gojo almost laughs. Hell, he is laughing breathlessly until you have the nerve to do it again. Babbling a terribly sweet, "Suguuu—fuuuck...!" As if there isn't a wedding ring wrapped around one of your fingers that's currently curling into the silken sheets below you.
All of which Gojo Satoru bought, by the way.
"Hah, you're fuckin' with me, right sweetheart?" He asks cautiously, trying to ignore the surprising twitch of his cock buried deep inside your addictive pussy despite the way you just moaned his best friend's name.
It was weird since you’re folded up under Gojo’s firm body weight right now with your legs dangling over his shoulders and his cock delving deeper and deeper into your dewy wet cunt by the second.
Maybe he’d just fucked you that dumb?
But even then, why’s another man’s name even crossing your mind right now?
Gojo finds his lips hovering over yours with searing pants mingling into your mouth, his hips hit hard against yours, toned pelvis and sharp v-line smacking against you with each deep thrust he gives. “Hmm? C’mon, answer me. Tell me you didn’t mean to say that, baby.” His voice is husk, even tired if you listened close enough.
Your lashes flutter prettily as you struggle to maintain the eye contact with him, “I was just—”
Despite literally asking you to explain yourself, Gojo doesn’t quite give you any room to. Not with the way his cock is busy spelling his name into your cunt. Quite literally too as he pulls back, takes his hand to his shaft, and leans his head up just to watch his next thoughtless little movements.
You feel the mean loss of him stuffing you so good and it only leads you to curiously glance downward along with him. Gojo smiles to himself a bit as a slightly frustrated huff leaves his flushed lips.
You’re a mess down below and yet you had the nerve to utter someone else’s name? Tch.
The fervid tip of his cock weeps against your twitching cunt as he angles himself to your clit. You gasp at the contact, feeling his plump head roll over your aching bud before—
Oh shit.
It’s messy but, your husband begins to scrawl out the letters of his name against and around your clit. Whispering with it too, “She’s must’ve forgotten about me, right?” He utters—not talking to you, but your pussy. “But you didn’t,” Gojo goes on as he gives your cunt a soft tap that leaves the air filled with a wet plp! “Mhm, you’d never forget about me. I treat you too fuckin’ well.”
You’re in awe of your husband, truly. Yeah, you had the gall to fuck with him a bit and purposefully moan out his best friend’s name but surely that doesn’t mean he has the right to torture you like this… right?
“That was such a sweet moan too,” Gojo starts pouting and it’s then that you feel your heart aching—perhaps you shouldn’t have chosen now to prank him. “Too bad it wasn’t one of my name, huh.”
He’s babbling now, ranting even, while lugging his pulsing cock back to your not-so-forgotten entrance.
You then watch him tip his head further off to the side and scoff, “S’okay though, I know how to fuck—” He gives you one swift and mean thrust, “—myself name back into that silly lil’ head of her’s.”
banner from “Hachisuka’s Family Kotoribako” || perm gojo tags (1/2):
⋆｡°✩ warnings; NSFW/MDNI, priest au, blasphemy, religious themes, infidelity (mentioned), unhappy marriage, masturbation (m), explicit sexual thoughts, breeding kink, obsession, power imbalance, um dont like dont read?,morally gray higuruma
⋆｡°✩ a/n; pls dont kill me? this was an ant at the back of my brain constantly biting me?
⋆｡°✩ taglist; .... refer to this post to be added to my taglist!
priest! higuruma who’s the pillar of the community. at every event, every fundraiser, every sunday sermon, he’s there; his presence is calm, reassuring, and his kindness is shown to every member of the congregation.
priest! higuruma who remembers the names of every child in the parish. who asks about their school, their scraped knees, their little wins and complaints. who listens patiently to the elderly recount the same stories every week without complaint. who gives little hard candies to the kids who do exceptionally well during bible study that week.
priest! higuruma who sits in the confessional every thursday evening, listening to the sins of his community without judgment, or as much as second thought.
priest! higuruma who recognizes your voice the moment you sit on the other side of the screen. youre the wife that everyone envies, the one who married the wealthiest man in the community, and has a seemingly perfect life.
priest! higuruma who listens to you when you confess that you hate your husband and his mistress. who hears the way your voice trembles when you say you can't leave, because you'll have nothing. you're staying for the children.
priest! higuruma who has heard countless confessions in the past, lies, stolen objects, petty actions done to spite others. but none of them had made his jaw tighten quite like listening to this has.
priest! higuruma who swears he just hates it because it violates the scancity of marriage. a precious partnership for this life and the hereafter that shouldn't be taken lightly.
priest! higuruma who watches you more closely the following days. how you show up in public without your husband. how you're more attentive to your kids. how sometimes, when you come to church early in the morning to pray at the altar, your eyes are swollen like you've been crying.
he's never felt so angry before. how could anyone hurt someone as kind as you? hell, you apologized for being angry and your cheating scumbag of a husband.
priest! higuruma who prays even more than before, for you constantly invade his thoughts. the temptation of sin constantly rises whenever he thinks about you. youre so beautiful, and kind, and he hopes that god will forgive him for his impure mind.
priest! higuruma who listens to you week after week, just confessing to how you don't know what to do anymore. his heart breaks for you, but he can't say anything in the moment. what he would give to tear down the damn screen and hold you so close you forget about that scumbag.
priest! higuruma who does the unthinkable after sunday's congregation when you left your handkerchief behind after dabbing a stray tear from your eye. he pockets it deep into his robes and takes it into his room that night.
priest! higuruma who smells your scent like its his faith while his free hand slowly strokes his aching cock, the weight of his sin heavy on his heart and his hand, but he couldn't care less in the moment.
all he can imagine is the what ifs if you had married him instead. if you didn't choose that scumbag. would you stroke him slowly and all shy? or would you take him into your mouth without hesitation and suck him dry?
his hand unconsciously starts stroking faster, and faster, his fantasies about you becoming more and more unhinged. he'd fuck you slow and deep making sure you'd take everyyy last drop, fucking you full of his kids. gods, he wants to see you swell with his seed, so much so that he cums faster than he ever has before.
priest! higuruma you cums all over your poor handkerchief. it's ruined now, so instead he washes it and hides it under his mattress. his little secret between him and god. he swears he'll repent and never do it again. but he finds himself repeating the same routine every night.
you are the salvation he prays for and the sin he fears, your tears so painfully beautiful. if only they weren't shed for another man who doesn't deserve them, not one bit.
priest! higuruma whos fed up with watching you waste away. you're in the confessional box again, tears streaming down your face silently.
"sometimes... i think God forgot about me." you whisper, your voice breaking with sobs that are being choked back.
he pauses after a sharp intake of breath.
"i don't believe He did." he says quietly, but God was the last thing on his mind. All this thoughts are occupied by you.
priest! higuruma who finally sees you stand up for yourself, you prepare to leave your husband, find strength for your children, and somewhere along the way? you realize that it wasn't the end of the world.
priest! higuruma who knows its only a matter of time before you become his. <3
pervert roommie!choso who waits until your shower steam is thick enough to hide the sound of his palm slapping against his cock. door cracked just enough. he’s got your worn sleep shirt balled up over his nose, inhaling the spot right under your armpit where your scent clings strongest, groaning low when the cotton drags over his leaking tip
pervert roommie!choso who “accidentally” forgets to lock the bathroom after he jerks off so you walk in on the mess he left. pearlescent ropes still dripping down the shower tile, his boxers kicked into the corner like evidence. he stands there towel low on his hips, pretending to be surprised, voice cracking when he mumbles “shit… didn’t hear you come in”
pervert roommie!choso who steals your dirty panties from the hamper and stuffs them in his pocket before you do laundry. later that night he’s thrusting into his fist with the lace crushed against his tongue, tasting the damp cotton where you were wet earlier that day. he cums so hard his thighs shake and he has to bite his own arm to keep quiet
pervert roommie!choso who starts leaving the living room tv on porn channels at 3 a.m. knowing you’ll stumble out sleepy and confused in nothing but that tiny tank top. he’s sprawled on the couch, sweats tented obscenely, eyes half-lidded when you freeze in the doorway. “couldn’t sleep,” he rasps, hand already palming himself through the fabric, “wanna watch with me?”
pervert roommie!choso who corners you in the kitchen at midnight while you’re reaching for a glass. presses his whole front to your back, fat cock already rock-hard against your ass. he doesn’t even pretend it’s an accident anymore. instead just grinds slow and heavy while his mouth finds your ear. “been smellin’ you all day… fuck, you’re soaked through these shorts, aren’t ya?”
pervert roommie!choso who finally snaps after weeks of teasing. pins both your wrists above your head with one massive hand, other yanking your panties to the side. he’s shaking, pupils blown, throat dry. “m’ sorry— m’ so fucking sorry b-but i can’t— need inside— been dreaming a-about this pussy every night—” then he’s bullying his way in with one desperate thrust, choking on a sob the second your walls flutter around him.
pervert roommie!choso who turns into a babbling mess the moment he bottoms out. hips stuttering, forehead pressed to your shoulder, whimpering against your neck. “s’ too tight— fuck— gonna cum already— d-don’t move— please don’t move or m’ gonna lose it—” but he’s already fucking you stupid, sloppy and frantic, drooling down your collarbone while he chants your name like a prayer.
pervert roommie!choso who keeps going even after he fills you up once. pulls out just to watch his cum leak out, then pushes back in with a broken moan. “look— look how much i gave you… still not enough— need to breed it deeper— fuck— m’ gonna keep going til you’re dripping for days”
| home | index | a/n: i know its shorttt js got over being sick but i hope u like our lil perv choso
currently thinking about dante sparda who’s a feminist, 6’3, built—and oh, did i mention feminist?
“say, dante, what’s your opinion on men’s rights ?”
“irrelevant.”
dante doesn’t miss the slight pause you make before continuing to stir your drink. he sits in the booth across from you, enzo munching on fries opposite him as he sneaks a sip of his sundae.
“yer joking !” enzo says between belches. “something wrong with ya kiddo ? what do you mean men’s rights are irrelevant ?!”
but dante isn’t listening. he’s more concerned about the gap between your lips & coffee cup, the way you tilt it slightly above your mouth so as to not stain the glass with your gloss. your lips tug into a pout when you find the rim stained in coke pink regardless. you pull out a napkin & wipe it with a frown. cute.
“well, as a six three, employed and financially stable male,” dante clears his throat, smug, “i can’t help but turn my focus to more important things. for example, the widening gap between men and women’s wages. and we can’t forget the rising prices of feminine hygiene products, of course.”
enzo wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. he doesn’t miss the way dante’s pupils seem to flit over to you every now and then. he clicks his tongue,
“kid, please, y’know she hasn’t even looked at ya, right?”
“she will.”
you continue to scroll through your phone.
but dante takes your silence as intrigue.
“anyways,” dante pauses as if searching for the words, “i just think it’s important to raise awareness—”
“yer raisin’ my freakin’ blood pressure.”
dante shoots him a glare. “i just think that, as a six foot four male, it’s my duty to raise awareness about the issues women face and the obvious gender bias in america’s modern day economy.”
“y’said six three before, kid—wait, what’s yer’ height gotta do with anything ?!”
as if on cue, your teaspoon clatters to the ground, and dante, ever the feminist, is quick to lean down to pick it up—rattling the table and spilling enzo’s fries in the process.
“hey! watch it—“
“your spoon, lady,”
you blink. dante’s taken his time to wipe the spoon clean & present it with a napkin. you hesitate a little before obliging with a murmur, “thanks..?”
“you’re welcome,” he says smoothly, relaxing into the booth seat. “no woman should ever have to bend over in a skirt. i mean—unless she wants to. then it’s her choice. her feminine power.”
“oh !”
enzo chokes on a fry. you stare at dante for a beat too long & he can’t tell if you’re confused or interested, but dante has an ego bigger than his head so he decides upon the latter.
“say, lady, don’t you agree that men should always pay on the first date ?”
you raise a brow. “the first ?”
dante waves his hands. “all, really. i only mention the first because i know some strong, independent women prefer to pay too. i respect that. i respect all women, really.”
“right. and is this your way of offering to pay for my food ?”
dante’s pupils shift to your table. only now does he realize you’ve ordered the most expensive french breakfast on the menu, as well as a drink too milky brown to cost the same as your average cappuccino. his wallet aches heavy in his pocket. “with pleasure ! lemme just get my wallet out…hope i didn’t leave it in the hellcat…”
“huh? wasn’t our uber a toyota?”
dante bares his teeth, ready to strangle enzo when you giggle—
“oh, gosh,” you sniffle, wiping tears, “that’s enough, you two are hilarious.”
clearing your throat, you raise your hand to reveal the diamond settled on your finger. “i’m sure you’re lovely and all, but i’m happily engaged.”
“that’s okay! i support women having multiple streams of happiness—ow !”
dante rubs at his shin as you continue. “that’s nice for you, but i’m fine with my fiancé.” you set some cash on the table and dust your skirt off, standing up to leave. “thank you for the laugh, though, gentlemen.”
you wave them goodbye and make your exit.
“God, i love women.”
“seek help,” enzo mutters, as he sneaks a sip from dante’s drink again.
it’s your host, MARS STERLING live from the villa ! five couples remain on the island & tonight, one of them is going home—it’s up to america tumblr to vote who they think is the least genuine couple, & decide who will be dumped from the island !
‘did yall not see how satoru rolled his eyes when y/n kept telling him to not talk to the casa girls. free my man omg 😭’
slushynoobzz7 says:
‘GOJO AND Y/N ENEMIES TO LOVERS I’M HERE FOR IT. but can we talk abt the scene where he was lwk palming her in her bikini tho…like sir this is NATIONAL TELEVISION.’
hothighpriestess says:
‘okay but are we just gonna ignore the fact that gojo is a sagittarius. he’s gonna cheat on my girl please free y/n 💔’
ⓘ CONFESSIONALS
‘gojo and y/n, what do you have to say about your relationship ?’
gojo’s thumbing your thighs on national television.
not the fleshy surface, he’s much too crass for that. gojo satoru dips bony fingers into the split in your thighs & pouts when you shoot him a glare. his glower melts into grin; you think he has too many teeth.
“look, i flirt. that’s like, breathing for me. but y/n? first girl who ever made me question my skills,” he turns to you, “that’s why i flirt with her the most.”
“i’d say i’m honored, but you’d flirt with a wall if you could.”
gojo satoru doesn’t sport his blind-man glasses for a change. his hair is sweat soaked & sticky & full of half-curls. when you’re done speaking he makes a show of clutching his chest in pain, eyes rolled shut like chestnut shells.
“dramatic,” you mutter but your tone is fond. you reach out a palm to cup his cheek but he takes your palm & kisses it instead. his lips are summer sticky. there’s peach shine where he kissed your hand.
satoru grins.
“you’re the only one for me in this villa,” he hums into your palm, “and unless zendaya shows up, it’s staying that way.”
“that’s not the romantic closing statement you think it is.”
★ NANAMI X Y/N ⎯⎯ FAN TWITTER !
luvolandria says:
y’all i could NEVER be a casa girl do u see how they treat y/n ?? and omg she’s such an angel notice how she keeps it classy even when they outright BULLY her. tumblr please give this queen my 100k
penguinn0 says:
‘just realized that the reason nanami didn’t kiss y/n for like five eps is because she said she’s scared of being used and he doesn’t want her to think that’s the case w him??? bye if they get dumped i’m dropping the show’
kubzscouts-is-my-wifey says:
‘omg y/n is SO pretty she literally looks like princess tiana ?? but i lwk don’t want her nd nanami to win they’re kinda boring imo😭’
ⓘ CONFESSIONALS
‘y/n and nanami, what do you have to say about your relationship ?’
being with nanami burned like hell.
but you won’t say that on national television. not when you’re half-sat on his lap & his palm sleeps heavy on your hips. you shift & he pats your thigh. aching, automatic.
“i’d say that for y/n and i, things haven’t mostly been easy.”
you cough, an understatement. but kento pays you no mind. he keeps spilling words from the jugular.
“y/n’s been especially strong, and that’s one of the things i admire about her. it wasn’t easy coupling up despite the opposition, but i’m forever grateful she chooses to stay by my side regardless.”
he grips your palm & you squeeze back.
“what kento and i have is real,” you soften, “and i’d be damned if i let some villa bitch ruin it.”
kento’s lip twists. you swear you see a smile.
★ TOJI X Y/N ⎯⎯ FAN TWITTER !
percabeth4ever says:
‘tumblr as much as i love watching them pls DO NOT let them win !! ik toji irl and he’s literally a beggar on my street, he did NOT come here for love 😭’
holdingspace4cierra says:
‘yall i’d hate to be the other islanders🧍♀️ imagine trying to get your 8 hours in but y/n & toji doing it raw right next to you smh 🥀
kiribaku4l says:
‘bad bitch w a bad boy we LOVE to see it. and the way u can literally feel their sexual tension through the screen?? yeah I’m taking them to the finals🙏.’
ⓘ CONFESSIONALS
‘y/n and toji, what do you have to say about your relationship ?’
“y/n’s annoying,”
“excuse me?”
toji’s slouched & heavy boned on the comforter, one arm thrown lazy over your seat as he shrugs. “bossy. picks fights if i breathe wrong. way too complicated.”
“like your financial situation.”
you’re promptly ignored. “and she never stops running her mouth—unless my hand’s on her throat.”
you don’t miss the way the camera man coughs.
“but she’s smart. sharp. and when she’s asleep? clings to me like she’ll die if i leave.”
you blink, voice small as your fingers curl around his wrist. your brows furrow & your lips are tugged downwards as if you’re trying to recall every moment you’ve ever slept together. “i don’t do that.”
“you do,” a pause. “kills me every time.”
“still not splitting the money though.”
you look up at him & his lips are bent in a clumsy grin. you pinch his side,
“try it and die.”
★ SUGURU X Y/N ⎯⎯ FAN TWITTER !
sodapoppp says:
‘when suguru comes on screen so i come too 💔’
ishowmeat says:
‘are we not gonna talk about how getou cried more when he thought satoru was gonna leave the island than when the same happened to y/n…get this man off my screen🤦♀️’
master-jinshis-cumslut says:
‘these two gotta be the FIRST couple in love island history to actually use the swimming pool😭 also that challenge when y/n gave him a lap dance ??? foaming at the mouth omg’
ⓘ CONFESSIONALS
‘y/n and suguru, what do you have to say about your relationship ?’
“that lap dance was me proving a point,”
you’re idly playing with the collar of his shirt, knuckles brushing his lips as he presses half-pecks to your skin. getou hums, “and what point is that ?”
“you’re not as unbothered as you pretend to be.”
suguru sighs as if defeated, eyes pressed shut & your palm trailing down his shirt as he sinks into the comforters. “you caught me,” he breathes, “hard to fake unbothered when you looked at me like you knew what you were doing.”
“i did know,” you smile sweetly, tucking yourself into his side. his palm smooths heavy over your arm & you lean up like you’re about to peck him on the lips—then don’t. he frowns.
“you breathe different when you’re jealous.”
he pokes your nose, “and you grin when you think you’ve won.”
his fingers rub circles on your thigh, slow & sure & syrup heavy, “you like getting reactions out of me, don’t you?”
you hum into his side, “i wanna see you crack.”
“careful,” suguru shifts you so your knee’s in his lap, lips pressed into your hair. “you might get addicted to what comes out.”
the producers have to remind you this is a confession booth.
★ SUKUNA X Y/N ⎯⎯ FAN TWITTER !
mamoushii says:
‘y/n and sukuna are really miscommunication final boss—like wdym they BOTH brought back ppl from casa just cuz they couldn’t tell if the other would be serious about closing off?? is this love island or blue spring ride omg.’
mirawontmiss says:
‘the way sukuna was acting like the prize at first then switched up when he realized y/n won’t chase him LMFAOO’
nicolandria101 says:
‘the way sukuna almost STRANGLED that casa guy over y/n??? I KNOW THAT COOKIE GOOD 🙌’
ⓘ CONFESSIONALS
‘y/n and sukuna, what do you have to say about your relationship ?’
“i think sukuna confuses control for care.”
“and i think y/n confuses silence with indifference.”
you glare at him. sukuna is unbuttoned sun-shirt & silver chain glinting across his chest. he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes,
“you act like if i don’t say it, it isn’t real.”
“because you don’t say it.”
sukuna’s tone dips, low, dangerous: “i show it. when i didn’t kiss that casa girl. when i socked that guy who tried to touch you. when i slept on the daybed ‘cause you were mad at me.”
your arms are still crossed over your chest. you don’t meet his eyes.
“don’t tell me i don’t care when you’re the only one i lose sleep over.”
your heart claws up your throat. you’re chewing your cheek trying to suppress the bubbling in your chest. you bite your tongue,
“you still brought back someone from casa too.”
“so did you,” he quips. “guess we’re both fucked.”
you lean your head against his shoulder. “guess we are.”
the islanders have spoken, it’s time for tumblr to cast its votes !
Synopsis. To see a movie or to make one? Four times Geto Suguru absolutely ruined you for the cameras, and the one time outside of them.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! pórnstar! reader, pórnstar!Geto, he is so DOWN BAD, exhibítionism, breéding, Geto’s tattoos, Geto’s PIERCINGS (d, tongue), THREÉSOMES, some Gojo x Reader x Geto, streamer!Gojo, vóyeurísm, Geto gets one taste is PÚSSYDRÚNK, mast. (Geto), oraI (fem + male rec.), spítting, p slapping, some Toji x Reader, PÚRE SMUT, húmping, matíng presses, semi-public, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 10.1k (woah)
A/N. Have a lovely week <3
“Ch-chin up, honey–” Geto’s drunkenly half-lidded stare sticks to you like a greedy second skin. And it makes him snicker, curling his thick fingers around your neck to force your glassy eyes upwards. “Let the camera see that hah- pretty face of yours.”
You mewl, batting your teary lashes up at his towering figure. Pretty glossed lips pressing the most sinful French kisses up his sensitive shaft, “Like this, Sugu?”
And god, that makes him throw his head back with a whimper. It makes him dredge up everything left of his sanity to remember those next few lines of his, praying that those babbling messes of his groans pick up on the microphones.
“Y-yeah, got that right.” he jostles his muscular thighs even more heavily manspread, baring you with a sopping wet swipe of his angry tip against your pout. Poking the bulbous curve of his cool metal piercing just barely- “So you can listen, brat.”
Damn. Geto’s already sure he’d stumbled over his script a few too many times. Already sure he’d forgotten what the next scene was with how he was too dangerously close-
CUT!
Shit.
He had a feeling this would happen.
Because Geto Suguru rarely ever had to take multiple takes whenever he was filming - he was no novice in this business. Far from it, in fact.
Bearing the title of one of the most-watched porn actors in history - and the five-time crowned winner of the most beautiful, as well - the audience loved him, and the directors loved him even more with just how many big, fat cheques he’d rake in easily.
And you?
That gorgeous newbie paired up with him today that was absolutely ruining him.
“Sorry-” Your honeyed tone snaps him out of his syrupy reverie, and the little smile on your face is so innocent compared to just a few seconds ago. “M’still new to this, so I think it was my fault.”
Yeah, ruining him.
“Not at all. S’cute.” Geto’s plastering one of his suave grins all across his mean mouth, and without a second thought, he’s thumbing away that translucent little splatter of precum at the edge of your kiss-bitten lips. Wetting the curvaceous pad of his thumb, “Besides, don’t worry yourself, pretty lady. I don’t think a uh- what was it- clan leader would stutter as much as I did.”
And oh, he wished he could sneak in a few more glimpses of your laugh, music to his ears. Wondering what it’d feel like to have it vibrate around his still rock-hard cock. But alas, swiftly, the director’s clapping a hand down on Geto’s broad shoulder.
“Suguru- my star! What happened back there?” the older man bares him with a toothy grin that said it wouldn’t last there much longer if he made any more mistakes at today’s shooting.
It was the first time in years that he had to have a word of reprimand. And he wasn’t even fucking you today-
“Nothing.”
“Are we sure-”
“Nothing.” Firmer, this time, with a dangerous tinge that no other actor would dare have. His glassy eyes - still foggy from the slide of your tongue, still aching for more of it - fixate sideways on you getting your make-up retouched right beside him. Clearing his throat, “I won’t fumble next time. Promise.”
But shit, only a few seconds before the next take - the high-definition cameras rolling, the heady lighting fixated on the two of you - and he already feels like he’s about to lose it.
“Said you were a rookie, right? You sure about that, screen queen?” he’s leering a slightly-smug grin down at you, the curved edges of his lips twitching at that little industry nickname of yours.
He’d heard it here and there - mainly whenever Gojo was raving about you, but never did he think you would end up being so…so addictive.
Of course, he’s going to brag to his best friend as soon as this is over.
You’re gifting him with a bratty huff, “I’ve only been making videos for a few months, y’know? So I’ve never had to have a blowjob scene with someone so-”
And with a gulp, your syrupy eyes flicker downwards at his achingly hard cock - famed for just how massive Geto was. Already so creamy with a glistening coating of precum drizzling down his thumping veins, standing so thoroughly and thickly upright that it made your drenched thighs squeeze. Yearning to steal another taste of that furiously strawberry-blushed fat tip. “-so big.”
Shit, Geto could feel his fattened cock jolt already.
Hissing, “S-save it for the camera, honey.”
“Okay! Take 2, Act 1 of 1 from Cult Leader Geto.” A ringing voice cuts through your saturated air, and he’s settling back into his poised seated position on that decadently throne-like chair, you on your knees. “ACTION!”
“Messing up such an important mission, hm?” Geto spits, stern voice targeting you at your very dripping core. Sear-like grip making your throat burn, fuming, “Y’know there’s only one way to make up for it, right, honey?”
Your lips wobble oh-so-adorably when he hits them with a splattering smack! smack! smack! of his painfully hard length. Making you mumble, “Wh-what do I hafta-”
And maybe because it was part of the script, maybe because Geto couldn’t last hearing another melodic note of your sweetened voice - he’s shoveling all girthy inches of his swollen cock past your velvety lips.
Unapologetically.
Filthily.
God…it was so easy to forget all the cameras with your tongue.
Pressing the reddened curve of his weepy cockhead to nestle hot and heavy on your tastebuds, your jaw aches with the sheer weight of his hefty shaft throbbing away comfortably on your tongue.
And you swear you can feel big, bulbous tears welling up behind your eyes with how every ounce of blood in Geto’s body comes rushing down into his steaming length. Expanding his rotund head to grow even thicker-
“Shit.” he gasps. “Shit shit shit shit-” Brows scrunching, drooling maw falling slack. Every muscle in his hulking body bows to hunch forwards in his chair, until your tight throat was choking around the thick curve of his swollen tip. One attractively tattooed hand splayed out firmly on the back of your head, “Take it- y-yeah, take it why dontcha? If ya wanna make it up to your leader.”
God, he didn’t know if the cockdrunken way you were nodding was even real - but it made him groan just the same.
Sobbing out a swelteringly hot squelch! of syrupy precum that drips teasingly down the already-messy walls of your mouth. “Heh, maybe ya can even be my s-second-in-command with a mouth like this.”
And he’s giggling out in an almost hysterical way, head throwing backwards when his powerful hips rut up in slow grinds. Back and forth back and forth- that have your now-puffy lips stretching around so widely around his fat cock.
Struggling. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had.
Geto already knew his agent was going to be on his ass for veering just the slightest degree off the script.
But he didn’t care about that right now.
How could he? Not when the drag of your tongue was swirling around his steamingly hot girth in languid swivels, over and over fighting to trace every one of his prominent veins thumping angrily inside your mouth.
You whine at the saccharine sweet taste of his precum shooting down your throat in wet sputters, “S-Sugu-”
Fuck.
Geto hears himself whimper a pathetic noise as soon as you’re tugging yourself off of his leaky cock, pressing wet peck after peck up the underside of his messy shaft. It’s glossing in glinting lip-prints that he half-wishes he could tattoo. Slipping and sliding to sloppily plant your mouth along the bawling divot at the very end of his rosy pink head.
“Mhm–” he’s drawling, movements as slow as gliding through molasses when one of his strong legs comes to circle around your body. Muscles flexing so tight that if he angled just right he could squeeze that pretty throat of yours. He bites his lip, “Suck on my ah- tip- c’mon, gorgeous. Heheh, yeah gimme a pretty peck, why dontcha?”
With a smug smirk, he’s guiding through trembly digits to thwack! thwack! thwack! his thick hilt in wet splatters across your lips. Only to figure out that he didn’t even have to bother.
Because your sweet mouth was so ravenously reattaching back onto him, starkly raw lips glissading down the bulge of his Prince Albert. Your deft tongue swivels in such a filthy way down the underside of his slit, cheeks hollowing as you suck.
“Spit.”
“S’this-” you hiccup, widened eyes pleading. Spitting out a silvery glob of saliva onto the very edge of his tip, “S’this good, sir?”
Fuck, for a second there he almost forget that every one of your lines are scripted. And he deliriously wonders what if would be like if you called him that for real
“Hmmm, dunno.” His thumb smears across that pool of precum beside your lips - popping it into his mouth tastefully, “Jus’ a bit deeper to make sure. You can do it- c’mon.”
Swallowing up those solidly girthy inches of Geto’s so deliciously. Your nose presses against those drenched tufts of black at his toned pelvis, jittery fingers coming around to massage sultry little circles around his tight, cum-filled balls.
“Heh, think I prefer ya like this-” he’s restless now. Close. Knitting his brows rudely together, abs clenching mouth-wateringly at every wet gyration of his cock hitting the very back of your throat. And he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop, not even if the director yells cut this time. “-all pliant, n’ shutting up that bratty mouth of yours.” Geto arches his spine so flexibly - a specialty of his - all the way enough to whisper in a hoarse pant of feverish condensation against your ear. “All mine.”
Geto can barely even finish his line - or his train of thought, before with a wracing shudder, he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life.
Oozing out the wettest wads of his thick cum, so much of his wispy white seed gushing across in dripping glides into the cavern of your mouth. Back and forth with every jackhammer. The money shot smearing all down your pretty chin.
And fuck, just the way he can feel it sloshing around in a tidal wave inside your mouth makes him groan out your name.
Barely even registering the way it’ll have to be cut out in editing later, no- all he can think about is how heavenly you were milking him. Twisting your tongue to drag out his hazy orgasm, to swipe up even more of it from his piercing, you blink up in satisfaction.
Letting it overspill.
“Heh, fuck-” Geto’s tongue was dangerously loose now, mouth curling up into a simpering smile down at you when he’s bursting out in even more velvety ribbons of cum. It drips halfway down your jaw, washing a perfectly milky lipstain on you. Muttering, “Wish I could fuck you- god, I would-”
He’s cutting himself off with a dampened gasp, just as the chilling air on-set hits his hard erection.
In urgent moves, Geto’s pulling out of your silken soft mouth to drag you upwards with the hand tightened around your throat, crashing his lips into your own with sudden need.
Unsteady. Sodden. French kisses.
This wasn’t in the script - and you whine at the cool metal against his cushy mouth. A tongue piercing. Shit, he had one to match his dick.
Swirling it across your own lips, Geto hears you moan in that sweet voice of yours just as you taste him - taste yourself on him - and he’s sucking on your tongue just as you did with his cock. Pooling all the dredges of salty seed on his own, before spitting it back out-
“Tell yer agent-” he murmurs throatily, two fingers roughly wrangling your mouth shut. To make you swallow. His popping ears ignore the calls from the director for the scene to be cut. Finally completed. And Geto licks up the excess remnants of cum down your lips. “-to let me have ya again sometime, gorgeous.”
CULT MEMBER SLUT GETS TAUGHT A LESSON BY HER LEADER!
37 million views 1.5 million likes
Top comments:
satoruxstrongest: holy shit idk who im more jealous of ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱
unicorny: I VOLUNTEER FOR THE NEXT MISSION CULT LEADER GETO
hj.eromytits: guys is it just me or does geto sound EXTRA extra whiny in this video~?
tonykrier: No cuz I totes agree
---
Now, it wasn’t normal for Geto to run home freshly after a shooting and…research his scene partner. To spend what seemed like hours upon hours pouring over every single video and picture you’d blessed his obscene mind with.
You.
An up-and-coming new actress, but already dubbed the nickname of screen queen. Loved by many for that sultry sweet smile of yours and just how gorgeous you were when you were all fucked stupid.
Everybody wanted you.
And Geto - oh, Geto was out of his mind.
Shit, he’s thinking through his saturedly needy thoughts, eyes locked on the two sweat-sheened bodies on-screen. It was an earlier one of you and legendary veteran porn actor, Toji Zenin, and the more he eyed the way your bugging pussy so readily swallowed each of his greedily girthy inches - the more he was fucking jealous his agent only booked a simple blowjob scene. Peering at the title-
DILF-NEXT-DOOR GIVES SCREEN QUEEN AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT.
That should be him.
The wet schwf! of clothes upon skin emanate throughout his penthouse bedroom when Geto unthinkingly drags the soft mountains of his palm down his throbbingly hard erection. Eyeing at how Toji was smearing your sopping pussy lips open, giving Geto the perfect view-
Shit, that should be him.
Holding back a low moan, “Fuck-” he scrambles to hit the camera icon on his trembling phone, all but ripping his pants down to set free his ravaging cock. “God- m’so fuckin’ hard-”
He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to right about now - the audience, or you.
But all he can think about right now are those sparking stars behind his lids as soon as he runs the solid curve of his thumb along the bump of his swollen head. Still not fully hard, Geto squeezes his fat hilt just the way he remembers you did earlier today.
“S’all because of y-you, y’know?” he’s gritting through clenched teeth, batting those long dark lashes of his right up at the camera. “Why’d you hafta look at nhgh- m-me that way.”
God, his digits were only half as soft as yours were. And he keens at the rough drag of his fingerprints down the sensitive spots at every ride and curve. Melty mind stumbling through every mindless half-thrust into his fist.
Over and over.
God, he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again.
He’s panting - gasping. Every rutting fuck up into his hand leaving his heavy balls clenching painfully, teeth clamping.
Geto’s never been this needy - this desperate to try and graspingly remember what your moans had sounded like through his phone speaker not too long ago. It’s all he can do to sink his sharp canines down onto his fist, desperately holding back whimpers upon whimpers that threaten to spill out into the open.
Yet, they do, anyway.
“M-make me so fuckin’ horny, honey-” he’s swiping at the lazy trickle of drool down the edges of his drunkenly upturned grin. Puffing away the long, inky hair curtaining his eyes to splay out across the bed. “Such a perfect body ya have- such a perfect pussy. Wish I could fuck it.”
Because that delicious arch in your back was practically burned into Geto’s mind, how your slutty cunt was slobbering down gloss after gloss of your sweet, sweet juices down Toji’s fat cock. He’d been massive - rivaling Geto, honestly - and he couldn’t help but muse whether you’d take him that well, too.
Would you cry out and beg for more?
Would you bat your lashes and tell him to slow down- only to huff and puff in that naughty way of yours when he does?
You were…you were so pretty. And all he ever wanted to do was wreck that equally pretty pussy of yours, and ruin your makeup, and you.
You you you you-
Geto’s wrist aches down his tall shaft, stuttering up and down, he flicks his thumb wetly underneath his sensitive slit. Neatly grazing his manicured fingernail underneath the glazed bump, “I’d ruin ya, y’know?” Geto chokes out, and he doesn’t even have to fake the purring moan in his tone. The way his voice lilts embarrassingly higher in volume and pitch, gliding all the way up to nudge in wet peppered kisses across his chilling piercing. “Would make ya shut up on m’cock- hngh- until ya can feel my piercing branding into ya. Ruin everyone else f-for ya.”
God, the camera was so shaky right about now - and he half-wonders whether he wants to post this. Nothing like the usual professional set-up you’d usually see on Geto’s promotional tweets.
And then shit, just the thought of you actually seeing this video has him almost dropping his phone onto the dampened silken sheets below. His overly saturated mind liked to think that you’d like it, that you might even slip your own soft hand down into your flimsy excuse of panties.
“Fuck- fuck.” Geto bounces his head back onto the plush pillows, thighs shuddering even further open, catching every pearlescent bead of precum being smeared down his thickening length. Filthy. So fucking filthy. Making him arch- “Look what you do- look how you’ve got me- fuck-”
He was practically humping up like an animal now. Out of control. Each moan breaking into a whine in a way that Geto can’t stop even if he wanted to.
And the more he thought about you the more-
“Oh h-honey-” One of Geto’s thumb trails their way down to press down at the very middle of the twitchy curve of his balls. Hard. Hiccuping back a mewl of your name, he’s nodding like he doesn’t even realize. “M’gonna cum hah- m’gonna cum, okay? You’ll hafta take it all t-take it hngh-”
And it’s just a few more merely sloppy grinds before Geto’s spurting out in thick streams of cum. So much of it.
He’s fucking his fist like he wishes it was you. It’s making such a mess down his greedy fingers, coating down to his wrist in a gleaming sheen of creamy white. Easier to make him slip up, up, up, and down his swollen, red shaft trying to dredge up something delicious from the very ends of his weepy divot.
He lets his phone drop, thick thighs straddling upon each side of the screen to jerk his achy cock off like your pretty face was just underneath him. Furious. Fast. A low ah! ah! ah! rasping through each breath.
God, his fingers weaken around his cock. Moving as if on auto-pilot when he circles his trickling wet fingers around his own rosy pink nipples - all glistening down his tattoos as if they’d been laminated, they made for the perfect wet dream - then all the way up to suck on them. Cleaning. Tasting himself.
Fuck, wishing it was your hand.
Wishing you were here.
All Geto could think about is if you were here right now, then he’d swipe his blushing tip down your lips, instead - reel you into a dripping wet kiss just like before. He grunted at just how badly he wanted to taste on your candied tongue again-
Still so sensitive from the shoot with you before, Geto’s breathing out in heaves, pants. Tears prickling at the very ends of his bleary eyes, he bites down furiously on his coral pink lips, trying for the fucking life of him to not cum in blanks right now.
He does, actually.
Again. And again and again- spazzing cockhead jerking out a few wispy wet ribbons of his seed, before giving way into nothing. And if you listened closely to the crackling audio, you could almost hear Geto whimper.
Yet, he doesn’t even notice until his thumb swipes shakily onto that red end button on the video.
Doesn’t even register until he’s pulling up his infamously lewd Twitter account, the voice of his agent ringing in his pounding ears from today on something about “promo for your upcoming video” with every few hasty clicks on-screen.
Geto posts.
And he doesn’t even glance a second time at the screen before darting back into his browser history, searching ravenously for any more morsel of you he could dig up.
Because Geto Suguru might just be addicted.
@GetoTheCursed: For @ScreenQueen
2.6 million views 364k likes
Top replies:
moresenpaimore: holy shit the lighting? the shakiness? the whimpers? ITS ALMOST LIKE HE POSTED JUST AS HE CAME DADDY YOURE SPOILING US!!1!111!!
tjzenin: Good taste, kid. - Toji x.
ScreenQueen: <3
---
“Y’look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Gojo’s angling your head just enough for the blinking camera to drink in that milky trail of slick trickling down the corners of your puffed-up pussy lips. Musing at how it probably couldn’t capture half as how pretty you are with his massive cock bullied snugly into your strugglingly bulging cunt. “Isn’t that right, Suguru?”
“Heh-” The other man only shifts his legs to manspread more comfortably on Gojo’s plush mattress, leaning back on two elbows. “Don’t I know.”
hj.eromytits: ahhh~ a suguru and satoru stream my life is complete~ screen queen is so sexy too~
444stayze: WE NEED MORE COLLABS LIKE THIS SATORU PLEASE
chocho: she’s so…beautiful
*chocho donated 690 chestnuts*
If Geto Suguru was the king of videos, then Gojo Satoru was the king of streaming. Wracking thousands upon hundred thousands - perhaps close to millions - that watched him strip down and bare the winking camera with his cocky, girthing inches. And today, he just-so-happened to have a special guest.
Two, actually, after hearing about your latest film with each other.
His long-time best friend, and the rookie actress he’d been just as obsessed with lately. And the tons of viewers right now were loving this combination.
Your greedy hips squirm ravenously, jostling Gojo’s cock to swirl in syrupy, circular swivels inside your gooey walls. Yet, you couldn’t do anything with the thick, black blindfold wrapped around your two wrists - a staple of his persona. “G-gojo-”
Smack!
All five of his splayed-out fingers come down harshly in a swat against the curve of your ass, and Geto can’t help but gulp heavily at the sinful way it makes your flesh jiggle.
Gojo’s tangling a vice-like grip into your scalp - eyes wide, wild, where he’s leering down at you. “Now now, you’re s’pposed to look at hah- me.” he whines. Shit- when had you even turned to look at Geto. “And what was it I told ya to call me?”
“T-To-”
Smack!
“Louder.”
“Toru!” you squeal, feeling his leaky tip brush up in a wet nudge against your bulbous g-spot. Expanding even girthier to hit at that little bullseye over and over-
“Such a s-slutty voice ya got on ya.” His sharp hipbones mashing against tender skin, stifling balls stinging your ass, juddering knees bouncing even faster. It was so fucking addictive sheathing himself inside the tight channel of your cunt. So hot and cozy inside that Gojo has to force himself to rip his line of sight onto Geto just behind you, “Does sh-she always sound so sweet, Suguru?”
And Gojo’s not surprised - not even the tiniest bit surprised - to find that his best friend already has his silken button-up ripped open, ringed fingers stuffed into his too-tight pants.
Addictive…you were so addictive.
And he’s almost jealous that he’d introduced you to him on this stream.
Tearing away his clinking belt to knead over his rock-hard erection, drawling the very rounded edges of his fingers down his cupped balls. Squeezing. Hard. Geto looks so utterly like he has to force himself to breathe out something even slightly coherent, “Hmmm, hard to say with the way she was on her knees last time- heheh-”
“Such a dog ya are-” Gojo’s rolling his watery eyes, before pecking a wet glissade of his lips down onto yours. The woosh of donations flood the chat as soon as Geto’s letting out a roughened growl, “Dontcha ngh- a-agree, sweetheart? So mean, hm? The chat certainly seems ta think s-so.”
“Mhm–” you’re crying out - difficult, with the way he was sunken in so solidly inside of you. At Gojo’s sheer mercy.
Mercy that was slowly dwindling away with each and every slobbering fuck up into your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but let your jaw drop into a needy oh when his ragged thrusts get faster. More desperate.
“Ya hear that?” Gojo swipes his thumbs across your sloppy folds to bear you even further into the camera, and with Geto’s lolling gaze he could just peek the way your sodden hole was gaping widely. How his peaking veins massage your entrance through and forth- “Our girl says you’re a meanie, Sugu~”
candybah: GETO LOOKS MADDD
k-en.j: she looks so cockdrunk already honestly idk who i want to be here
pumk1nhe1d: Love how Satoru winds him up. Wonder if her poor cunt can take both??
And Geto knew that your voice was absolutely dripping with teasing want, he knew that it meant nothing more than a simple line to get him worked up. But the way Gojo’s jittery arms were engulfing you to stick to him so closely, his knowing smirk flashing Geto’s way had him huffing out a pointed few profanities.
“Fuck that.” he’s spitting getting up onto two unsteady feet to shuffle even closer to where your bodies were rocking the decadent bed violently. Tying back his dark tresses urgently - and oh shit, that’s when you know he’s serious. And one of Geto’s fingers smack! away Gojo’s, searing his own possessive grip onto the blindfold to haul you against his washboard abs. “Open.”
Fuck, it’s just about all that you can do.
Slopping out your tongue to present your glistening tastebuds - right on par for Geto to be splattering a thick wad of saliva.
Letting the translucent slick sift across your mouth, and with years in the game, Geto Suguru already had perfect aim. He could’ve already made an easy, clean work of spitting in your mouth.
But, no, he’s speckling wet little messes around your lips on purpose. Swiping it away with the very back of his slender fingers, “Now, would you care to repeat- that?”
Every truncated drag of his moans is punctuated by a ragged rut of Geto’s hips against the globes of your ass. The remainder of his free hands being sure to press your arched body even further backwards into him.
You feel him throb against your heated skin, his fat girth jostling to make you hump down on everything from the very globular edges of his tip all the way down to where his fat balls were kissing up into you stickily. Gushing out steaming hot wave after wave of precum that formed delicate strings to snap!
Smack!
“C’mon now, sweetheart~” Gojo’s slow tut makes you squeal. “S’not nice to leave someone hah- hanging.”
Batting your teary lashes up at Geto, you’re struggling through your relentless restraints to try and crane up into a kiss. And Geto - ever the bully - makes you work for it, barely moving. “M’m-sorry-”
“That’s not what I asked-” his hot breath puffs up dangerously to fan your ear. Cool rings on his digits burning a blazing pathway up to your neglectedly hardened nipples, making you keen out such whiny sounds when he pinches. “Tell me what you said.”
“S-said-” you’re sobbing out. The double stimulation of Gojo’s ravaged cockheadbumping up into your spongy cervix, and the way that Geto’s thumbs were swirling over in pressurized circles over your tits too much. “-said you were m-mean hngh- didn’t mean i-it ah fuck-”
“Are you sure?”
“You really are s-such a hngh- bully, Suguru.”
“Tch, shut up-” And Geto would never admit the way that he was humping you like such a dog. Panting - heaving, practically - with every sodden grind, his teeth tug harshly on your precious ear lobe. “-at least I’m gonna be the one t-to make her cum.”
Gojo’s rolling his eyes, pecking a sudden crash into the very same spot of your g-spot. “No I will.”
“As if, ya had to borrow my camera t-today jus’ to capture how gorgeous she is.”
Both Gojo and Geto’s lips mesh into yours now, tongues bumping into each other, swirling across yours so lewdly. Sucking and nibbling along any inch of yourself that you would give them. Anything that they could take.
He’s bucking his hips sloppily, drawing wet gashes between your pre-soaked lips, and nudging against where Gojo was buried so deep. Too much.
Murmuring into your lips, Geto giggles - giggles every-so-drunkenly in a way that made the stream chat flood. “Heh, if ya really mean it then cum f’me, honey.”
Fuck- then, you do.
It’s hitting both you and Gojo like a sudden semi-truck.
Yelping out a saturated mixture of what sounded like both their names before your gushy walls squeeze tightly. So fucking cozy that Gojo has to stuff one of his long fingers into your quivering hole just to scissor your entrance open, to fuck you through your high.
His fat girth edging you through peak after peak of bliss, your toes curl, mouth still latched firmly with Geto’s. Spazzing cock bawling out a few silvery strings of white down your back - just barely. “My good girl- good- hah- fuckin’ girl.”
“Awww. Look, Suguru-” The other man titters, bringing up his free hand to swipe across your now freshly wet cheeks. “Ya really are a meanie, huh? You made her cry.”
Geto only rolls his dark eyes, that particular remark making him take it out on you - because oh, he might not be fucking you tonight, but it was so utterly fun to rip out those whiny syllables from your pretty mouth. He’s tugging on your nipple with one hand, the other dipping slowly to swat! at your plump clit. “Well, I also made her cum.”
“Hah? No way, that was me-”
“I’ll beat you up right here, right now, Satoru.”
#1 RANK satoruxstrongest: got two special guests! tonight is going to be fun ww `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧
51 million views 4.8 million likes
Top donors:
unicorny: WOAH when Geto SPIT?? And when they were arguing?? My apologies, sir, I did not know you were about that life (she’s so lucky me next)
honey.bunney: LITERALLY MY WET DREAM OH MY GOD BI PANIC I LOVE THEM
king0fcurses: lmfao weak. Invite me on the next stream and i’d show her a better time.
---
God, times like this, you almost hated your profession.
Because yes, despite everything, the pay you received was staggering - but absolutely no amount of money was enough to compensate for the complete and utter asshole that was Naoya Zenin.
And especially not filming with him.
A nepo baby that had climbed his way through the ranks with the help of his family name; most of his audience came to watch him fail utterly pathetically at trying to boss his co-stars around and ultimately end up whining with just the slightest little squeeze of your cunt.
To watch him be broken and sobbing for mercy - exactly the way you preferred him.
Anything but this-
“-c’mon- just one night, baby-” Naoya’s purring voice sleazes across your ears, and you ignore him to clutch your thin robe even tighter around your body. Thankful that the filming and clean-up was finally over. “Promise I’ll have you seeing stars.”
When he didn’t even have you seeing your climax? You want to ask, but unfortunately hold back - for your agent’s reputation, if anything else.
Plastering on an almost-painful faux smile, “I think we spent more than enough time together on-set.”
With that, you shift off the bed to weave determinedly through the bustling camera staff and the director calling out for the editing crew - you didn’t even know where you were going, at this point.
But Naoya Zenin was persistent, if not anything else.
Catching up hurriedly, his fingers tap down the side of your shoulder, gliding over the peaking strap of that pretty pink bra you’d worn just for the shoot today - something special your very own viewers had picked out.
You stand stock-still in the middle of the room when he murmurs into your ear, “Playin’ hard to get isn’t cute, y’know. Just give in-”
SWAT!
“Excuse me-” You’re grinning through the slight sting at the back of your hand - because oh, it was impossible not to smile at the utter look of shock on Naoya’s sharp features the very instant his hand had been smacked away mercilessly. Fuming. Undeterred, your eyes shift down warningly between his legs, “-before I make sure you can never work in this industry again.”
“W-wait-”
But who would bother to wait before making their escape? Not even looking - not even caring - about where you make your sudden strides to.
SLAM!
The door closes. Hard.
And you breathe out a shuddering sigh of relief when the cacophony of noise from outside bleeds away into nothingness, like a stifling little cocoon inside.
Fuck- where had your feet even taken you?
It takes a few blinking seconds at the rows upon rows of skimpy lingerie and outfits for you to realize that you’d shut yourself in the costume room just outside of your current set. And a few more seconds to realize that you weren’t alone-
“Oh!” you gasp. And you don’t even know whether to look - where to not look at the absolute wet dream in front of you.
Geto Suguru was standing unabashedly in the middle of the room, long hair splayed out across his back - and you could count every swirling tattoo of his. Because he was painfully shirtless. Showing off the sculpted ridges and curves of his muscles that flexed a just a little tighter whenever your greedy gaze was dancing down his bulging biceps, his inked hips, his-
“Cat got yer pretty tongue, honey?”
“Wh-wha-” you sputter. Fingers scrambling upwards to cover your eyes - before realizing how futile that is with how you’ve seen everything already. “Cat got your ability to change in the changing stalls instead of where everyone can see, Geto?”
He cocks his smug head, grinning down at you. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re complaining, though?”
“You’re too much.”
Throwing that thin cotton t-shirt grasped within his digits somewhere off to the side - perhaps to toy with your sanity even more. He crosses his thick forearms, showing off every bumpy vein of his. “Besides- I was here first- helping out ol’ Nanami with a costume. The more important question should be why the Screen Queen of all people is barging in here?” Lips quirking attractively upwards, “Wanted to see me shirtless again so badly, hm?”
You did.
“You wish.”
You’re rolling your eyes, and you never knew how close someone could get to you just within that split-second. Because you’re already feeling the feverish rush of his ragged breath against your features, skin burning mere inches from yours.
Close.
With a gulp, you’re careening back against the velvety walls. “More like wanted to run away from Naoya Zenin and his dates so badly.”
So close.
“Ah.” Geto’s nodding with understanding. Running a hand through his hair, he easily slips that tiny black tie into his mouth. Moving to bunch up his strands into a ponytail, “Need me to beat him-”
You cut him off, “No no no-” Frantically waving your hands about - partially because you really didn’t want him to leave right now. “I took care of it, anyway.”
“That’s my girl.”
And something about the honeyed way he hummed those words made your stomach lurch, it had you panting out a needy breath into the almost non-existent space between you two. One of his palms splay out on the wall beside your head, caging you in. Geto’s greedy gaze daring for a mere split-second to the CCTV camera by the far corner of the room - eh, Ichiji is probably on break, anyway. “Then I guess, my next question is…”
God, he’s so mean.
So teasing.
Reaching up to trail down the very end of his pointer finger in-between the seam of your robes - doing practically nothing to hide the way that Geto licks his lips at every sliver of your skin revealed.
Down between the valley of your breasts, down to your navel.
Down, down, down.
“-did he take care of you?”
You’re stammering your head into a half-delirious shake, “H-he didn’t make me-”
Geto makes an almost primal snarl at the very back of his throat, darkened eyes widening. He sounds so out-of-breath already. “Make you what?”
“-didn’t make me cum!”
And oh, those words changed everything.
“Then I guess I better make up for my colleague’s incompetence, right?”
Because not only did they have Geto Suguru’s sanity snapping, it had your poor, drenched panties as well - stumbling around your ankles in a useless pile of fabric with only one thorough pull of his deftly curled digits.
“So flimsy.” he’s raising one dark brow, sharp canines glinting against the dim lighting in amusement. “Yet it still wasn’t broken- Goes ta show what a hah- great time ya had with Naoya, huh?”
“Please- D-don’t tease-”
What did you even mean to say- don’t tease you? he wonders. As if he ever could. Half-drunkenly, half-deliriously because Geto couldn’t get fucking enough of anything but the way that your pretty pussy was winking up at him with a glistening sheen. So puckered and ready for him that he wanted to give her a little kiss.
A French kiss.
“Shhh- better keep ‘er quiet f’me, gorgeous-” he’s chuckling, hurried now that his knees clatter to the floor with a loud bang! Maybe it hurt, maybe it didn’t- Geto didn’t fucking care. “Because m’not going easy on you.”
And with a raw drag of his heaving inhales, he’s drinking in your mouthwatering essence. Greedy.
Glissading up the very slit between your puffy pussy lips, he’s curling his thumb meanly into your sloppy hole. Circling around in practiced, purposeful little swipes.
“G-Geto–” he’s quietly admiring the way it rolls off of your tongue, and fuck he’s never been one to be cocky over his own name but right now it was so fucking impossible not to be. Batting long, dark lashes from between your trembly thighs, “So mean, y’know that?”
Oh, you little minx. Geto’s brain flashes back to the stream with his best friend-
And he can’t help the sultry rasp of your name at the very back of his throat, the way his ringed fingers come branding down in such a dangerous swat! right against the plump edge of your clit- barely grazing your sensitively beading peak.
A warning.
“What was that?” he spits. Followed by a literal wad of his syrupy saliva right onto the slope of your hole watching the splatters speckle across your drooling cunt. It felt so possessive. “If I’m so mean, then you should find it- heh, sooo fucking easy to stay quiet, hm?” Wild eyes locked with yours - you’ve never seen this look anywhere in Geto’s films. Anywhere. “Wouldn’t wanna be caught with the big- bad- meanie-”
Shit, it was something to tease him - something to get on your longtime idol’s nerves. But you’d never have expected the effect that it would have.
Because Geto was ravenous when his lips are placing a messy kiss onto your own - your other ones. Meshing a sultry glide of his tongue between your swollen folds, his tongue piercing so cold against your tight ring of muscle.
He wasn’t easing you in.
He wasn’t showing you any mercy or regret when Geto stuffs his face as deeply into the heaven between your legs as he could go. And it almost hurts him when his nose smushes harshly into your sensitive nub, when his jaw aches with just how much farther he couldn’t sink into your pretty pussy.
Groaning, one of Geto’s splayed-out palms wrangles your ever-weakening legs onto his broad shoulders, the other toying taunting circles sailing all over your clit. Because he wanted more more more-
“Ngh- fuck!” Your unsteady fingers dangle their way through his silken strands - as soft to the touch as they looked. And you tug when you feel the silvery cold metal dart against your melty walls - not that it moved him even an inch. “Fuck that feels so good-”
“I know-” he’s smirking up at you. “N’ it sounds like e-everyone out there s’gonna know, too- heh. I don’t mind.”
God, that’s when it hits you to lower the volume of your honeyed moans. Biting down on the knuckles of your free hand, you level him with a glare.
“L-look who’s talking-”
Geto only chuckles through the sopping wet squelches he’s reeling out from your cunt. Fingers now dripping downwards with a final pinch to your clit and onto your hole. “S’not my fault your p-pretty pussy’s so talkative, honey.”
“G-Geto-”
“Shhh, lemme hear her talk. Please?”
You gasp when you feel him plowing a trail of his thick digits into your already snugly-filled channel. Such a tight fit with both Geto’s rummaging fingers and his toasty tongue slurping up every bead of your juices.
They’re swirling around you with reckless abandon, no longer the expert methods and tricks you were used to. No, Geto was pumping his fingers into you solely because he was addicted to the feeling.
To the loud slurps and squelches resounding from down below with his miniscule movements.
“Heheh, yeahhh- so fucking mouthy she is. Might as well have s-someone overhear her.” He grunts, feeling your gummy walls clamp down on him so vice-like. And it takes him every shred of willpower to finally part his sinful way with your cunt, to drag his lips in a final kiss down your wet folds. “Hold on- got an idea.”
Fuck.
An idea from Geto Suguru would never bode well for your sanity.
And you were completely right in assuming so, because in a split-second, he’s reaching down to his pants pocket - pulling out a glinting silver lip ring. One that finds itself placed so prettily near the very edge of Geto’s rawly rubbed pink lips.
One that finds itself wrapped oh-so-deliciously around your clit. Sucking.
More.
“Heh, you’re the first one to hah- see me with this new lip ring- congrats-”
“L-lucky me-” you manage to choke out. Hips rutting up and down up and down from the wall, dragging your slobbering cunt all down to make-out with his gorgeous features - and Geto doesn’t look like he’s anywhere but heaven. “It feels- so so- mmpf-”
Without warning, his thorough digits find themselves rudely shoved between your jaw-dropped mouth. Metal rings cold. Thick. Pressing down at the back of your tongue-
“Heheh- what did I say-” he’s dragging his mouth backwards to tug on your weepy clit. Other set of fingers picking apart your sweetest spots inside, ruthless cadence picking up. “Quiet, honey- be quiet f’me like my good girl why- ah- why dontcha?”
Truthfully, Geto himself is finding it so fucking difficult to concentrate.
He’s so sloppy. So loud.
He feels like he could combust with every shuddering gush of your sweet, sweet juices down the lover half of his face. So much of it that it’s dripping down into a lewd puddle onto the floor.
And he’s forced to swivel his free hand punishingly into your mouth to stop himself from traveling it down to his pants and creaming all over it like some loser. God- no- he had to make you cum. And fast. Before he loses it.
“C’mon, my pretty lady-” Geto bursts out in feverish hot pants breathed into your cunt, mouth rearing everywhere. And the stark contrast between his cool lip ring and his mouth made you shiver down your spine in white-hot pleasure. Hot and cold hot and cold- “Can ya hear that?”
Ah, damn. Just your luck - both your ears perk up at the distance resounding of footsteps. Close.
You tug on his long strands. Through muffled syllables, “G-geto–”
Closer.
“S’alright s’alright-” he’s snickering, sounding for all the world as relaxed as ever like he wasn’t two seconds away from being caught with a fellow actress in one of the most scandalous positions for even a porn company. “-jus’ cum f’me. Cum f’me, honey.”
Your cunt was so sensitive. You’re whimpering through his fingers once Geto presses in deeply onto that magical spot. Stars bursting behind your eyes- “M’gonna cum, Geto- so close. M’gonna- m’gonna-”
You didn’t have to finish your sentence.
Because with only a few bustling thrusts of his digits into that very same bullseye, you’re cumming all over Geto’s pretty face. Splattering his chiseled chin in a sheeny gloss of you, so filthy.
And he lets you - oh, he lets you. Why wouldn’t he?
Not when this is all that he’s been dreaming of ever since he had you that one time on set, not when you tasted so sweet spurting your juices down his tongue. Kittenish kisses lapping up every wet gash of slick, his fingers strain with how furiously he’s fucking you through your high.
“Oh- oh, honey— ” The only mantra that Geto can babble out pussydrunkenly, quirking up his hips to grind his rock-hard erection against your thigh. God, he felt like he could cum in his pants right now. “Tha’s right- use me- use me.”
Forcing his jittery fingers down to your hips in a rough restraint, he’s dragging your drooling cunt up and down up and down up and-
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Hey- ya in here?”
Click! In an instant, Geto’s long arm span is reached over to lock the door.
And god, Naoya’s voice was grating enough that he almost lost his rock-hard erection - if it hadn’t been for that sweetly startled mewl ripping from your throat, that is.
You scoff, fully ready to give him a piece of your - albeit syrupy, orgasmically hazed - mind to the man outside. But with a sneaky finger signaling you to be quiet, he stands back up to his hulking stature. Growling out a biting, “Only one in here’s me, fuck off.”
Only then comes the sputtering, “Wh-why I’d never-”
“Unless ya want your lil’ idol Toji to hear about how you’ve been nothing but a prick to his favorite actress.”
It’s barely even a second later when you hear those footsteps walking urgently away, and not even two when Geto’s hot breath puffs up against your ear. Words slurring and stumbling over one another, gliding his tongue across his lower lip to snatch up every ounce of you. “Don’t you worry-” Before sucking on the very same fingers that were buried inside you, “M’gonna ruin him.”
And that’s all it takes for him to remember something else you’d said about that very man just earlier. Something about a date…as if.
“Kiss me- kiss me kiss me please-” Geto’s mouth hovers over yours. Gingerly placing peck after peck- “Fuck- s-suck-” Not even having to finish his sentence with how your heated lips wrapped around his icy lip ring, dripping with your slick. “N’ I was th-thinking- would ya- only if you’d like- wanna make a movie-”
“Yes.”
Hah, Geto grins. Take that, Satoru.
LOCATION: CCTV room, Jujutsu X company building.
Employee count - 1
“Fuck- fuck-” Ichiji’s struggling to push up his condensation-fogged glasses with one of his slippery hands. Fingers trembling on the keyboard when he’s rewinding the camera footage in the costume room by just a few more seconds. “Oh god- m’gonna get f-fired-”
Again.
And again.
And again and-
“Shit-” he’s shuddering out, head woozy at the sheer overstimulation. Belt clattering against the plastic of his chair for about the nth time this hour. “-she really is a screen queen.”
---
Geto Suguru planned everything meticulously - till every detail was checked off on his seasoned mental list of making the perfect homemade…movie.
Not exactly something that he’d tried out personally before but- but who better to do it than with you? And he swears with every bit of insincere honesty inside of him that this was totally not because he’d been yearning to feel you cumming all over his cock for months now.
Yeah…totally not.
So he planned.
And he had everything - the heady candle-lit bedroom, the fresh silken sheets, the soft music playing from a speaker somewhere across the room. The only undecided thing being the name of your little tryst. Prowling over to you sat on the bed - all it takes is a simple shove to spread you out the way he’s been dreaming of. Humming, “You ready?”
Well, everything except-
“G-Geto, how are we gonna make a movie with no camera-”
Shit, that was the last thing on Geto’s mind right now - just about the furthest thing, despite being the very epicenter of his entire career.
Everything he needed.
But no fucking camera.
Oh.
“Shit.” he’s chuckling - somewhat gingerly, somewhat pussydrunkenly with just a glimpse of you splayed out like this on his plush bed. In another one of you gauzy lingerie sets, leaving barely anything for his overdriven imagination to obsess over. He’s scratching behind his neck, “We can st-”
“No-” And Geto looks just as shocked as you feel right now, skin heating up with embarrassment at your hasty answer.
But oh, that only makes him take it in stride - makes him slide his hand underneath his velvety boxers to knead greedily at his thumping hot erection. Grinning, “The Screen Queen doesn’t want to be on screen? How shocking.”
But it wasn’t.
God, because he could already see that darkening splotch at your silk drenched panties. The way your lower lip wobbled with so much want - he’d already watched enough of your videos to recognize it by now.
He’s nosing down your neck, drinking in each of your little shivers. “How do you want me?”
And all you can say is- “I just want you-”
Swat!
The rounded tips of Gojo’s fingers find themselves placing a pretty peck right on your pulsating clit, sending obscene shockwaves bowing your spine. Right into his arms, “You a-always say the sweetest things, honey.”
You hiss at the cool clash of his proud Prince Albert - and the way that one of Geto’s dangling silver necklaces knock into your chin softly.
And he’s groaning, just throwing his head back at the flurry of stars bursting behind his eyes. Hands gripping onto the edges of his sheets, Geto slides his hips in a slow back and forth against your own. Sandwiching the circular girth of his cock between your sodden folds, they make such a pretty scene.
“Tell me, pretty baby–” His fingers smear at the wet drizzles seeping from either side of your slit. “-do ya get this wet for the c-camera too or s’it jus’ for me?” But you’re only spewing out a few nods and syrupy yeses, gushing all around him that he can’t help but wonder what it would like bursting with him inside-
He doesn’t have to bother waiting long.
Now, usually Geto liked to take his time - would prefer to see you crying and breaking while you beg for his cock more than anything else.
But shit, right now he thinks that a second longer he isn’t buried inside your cunt might make him die-
“C’mon c’mon c’mon-” he’s hissing at the elastic stretch of that first ring of muscle. Easing his way in to bulge your sloppy entrance all full with just the very ends of his bulbous tip. “Take it- please, please take it-”
Geto can’t keep the slight tremble out of his tone even if he wanted to - not with the way your gooey cunt was molding around his shape to suck up every inch of him. And god, was there so much of him. It’s like it was never-ending.
“Shit-” your nails reel red, red marks down the milky plane of his deltoids. “I-I can feel you in my hngh- lungs, Geto-”
He chuckles - all the way into your lungs and he’s not even halfway in, yet? Hell, fuck halfway in, he’d just managed to smear past your swollen pussy lips to rut his fat head inside. Hissing at the clench of your walls around his sensitive slit.
“Suguru-” he gasps, eyes still wrenched down on the way your cunt was greedily gobbling him up. “P-please if you can call that hah- fuckass ‘Satoru’, then call me Suguru, please-”
It’s all that has to come out of your mouth - a sweet, syrupy “Sugu-”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
You feel yourself gulping down every one of his solid inches, a sheer circumference that you never even thought possible- the friction between your gummy walls and his furiously jackhammering cock having you squeal-
Smack!
Finally fully inside you, your pussy lips kiss his thickened hilt like long lost lovers, and his heavy balls shift against your ass.
“Don’t- don’t run-” Geto’s sputtering out a slightly broken plea, pure desperation wafting off of him like a heady perfume. It was contagious. And his rough fingers grip tightly around your waist, jousting up the dampening blankets all around your body when he pulls and pulls and pulls- “Fuck, where’d you think you’re going, huh, honey?”
His tone was just dripping with something dark, something you can only sputter and drool to match when every nook and spongy cranny inside is being filled up with Geto’s fat cock.
And it twitches inside you happily - if heaven was real then it felt like this, Geto muses already thoroughly pussydrunk.
“M’m-not running away-” you’re pouting a slick-glossed pout up at him. One that he can’t help but crane his neck down in an instant to kiss away. “You’re just s-so big- bigger than on camera-”
Fuck.
You would’ve shut your babbling mouth sooner if you’d known what would happen.
Because the rotund edges of Geto’s cockhead only swells up wider, squirting out even thicker wads of his steamingly hot precum with every mindless, saturated grind. Ones just to fit in- more and more, even after he’s finding himself kissing a wet glide down the ends of your cervix. Making sure to brand that edge of his piercing onto every gooey wall.
“God- y’really know how to drive me c-crazy-” Geto’s dark hair curtains either side of your head, and you almost don’t notice the way he swipes up two hands underneath your thighs to press you into a mean mating press. Letting you latch on limply while he leaves to swat at one of your hands cupping your pussy, “N’ move that hand- fuck- m’gonna fuck that outta ya.”
And he does.
The mattress creaks in loud protests when he’s pummeling you with stupidly rude clashes of his weepy tip onto the edges of your g-spot - already expertly mapped out by him now - he’s feeling the sloshy mixture recoil with each thrust. So much of it. “Such a pretty pussy- such p-pretty moans, makes me wanna keep it t’myself-”
God, he’s wanted you for what seems like forever - and he was going to take it.
Panting hotly against your mouth, heavals. Drunk on your messy kisses and the way your pussy lips were bulging with the struggle to take him - but still milking him so needily. “Tie up my h-hair, honey, wanna see that pretty face of yours proper.”
All you can do is blink back the wall of tears that’d made its home in your eyes, trembly fingers taking ahold of Geto’s thin, black hair tie.
But you didn’t expect it to be so difficult.
Because any moment you were even slightly close to bunching up enough of his locks, he’s planting a thorough trail of kisses down your cervix. Before ending with the very showstopper - at your g-spot.
And one look up into Geto’s half-lidded eyes told you one thing…he was doing this on purpose.
Your legs knock-knee in an almost engulfing way around his heavily swallowing throat, muttering out in a tone that you probably thought was threatening - but that Geto found so cute. “I’m onto you, sir-”
Fuck.
Fuck, maybe you were threatening.
He didn’t expect that evil little nickname to slip past your lips - and you didn’t expect Geto to swipe up a devious thumb up your clit in retaliation. Pretty, puckering lips trailing up the valley of your breasts, “I have no idea what you oh- mean, Screen Queen.”
And despite how you were huffing and puffing, your pussy was so clingy all around him. Hips bumping up in slight bucks fully off of the bed in a pathetic attempt to match Geto’s sloppy cadence.
Completely starstruck at the sheer pressurized thrusts you were being ruthlessly dealt with - and you half-lucidly swear you could count stars over your head.
“Do it-” His lips kiss down your winking eyes, ringed fingers cold against your own now. “-do it, honey- you can do it. Might be the Screen Queen but you’re my slut, arentcha?”
God, it’s like his words were hypnotic - maybe they were.
And you dredge up every single bit of will in your trembly body to push past the way that he was absolutely ravaging you inside.
Pound after pound of his swollen cock, the chilling cold metal of his dick piercing helping you discover forbidden sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even realize existed.
So merciless that he’s slipping out a few inches by accident- only to let out a shuddering gasp, eyes shooting almost-comically wide open before sheathing his way in again. Even deeper - you’re being crushed with the weight of one of his knees pressing down on your body.
Over and over-
“Wanna- hah- wanna cum so badly-” your words prattle out delicately. Fingers searing across his scalp, and the way that you tug makes him hiss. It makes him rut, it makes him slam his hips down bruisingly. “Please-”
He leaves a slurping wet kiss on your neck - and another with his fingers onto the hood of your clit. Rolling over with the angled curve of his thumb. Obviously, having you drop a few tresses of his hair- “Heh, maybe t-tie my hair properly n’ I’ll let ya cum- you know s’a staple of my hngh- videos.”
So infuriating, it makes you clench.
That sleazy grin plastered across Geto’s face was unfairly sexy, and so was the way his body was wracking with sudden shivers. Boasting down every curve and muscle, forcing him to fall onto his elbows-
“Hngh- n’ you call me the rookie-” Your smug grin curves upwards at the way that Geto was so tangibly pussydrunk, the way his hips squelch sloppier into your own. The dripping wet noises so obscene that you could feel your cunt drenching even further with each emanating one.
“God, you’re in for it-” he’s spitting out a few slews of swears against your dangling open mouth. Pinching meanly at your clit. “You’re in- hah- you’re sooo in for it-”
But then Geto sees white - and so do you.
Whether from the crashing pleasure of your orgasm, or the way that he was suddenly pumping out thick ribbons of cum into your snugly filled cunt, you have no idea. And you don’t even have the rational brain capacity to even wonder right now.
Because Geto was fucking you through your high like he hated you, rutting up like an animal. And you were sure that if his canines were just a tinge sharper, they’d be drawing blood with how hard he was sinking them into the crook of your neck.
Only deeper, more feral, with every pump of his spazzing cock - gushing out in boatloads of syrupy cum. It thwacks! against the utterly bruised and battered wet surface of your cervix, before dripping down, down, down to your g-spot.
And there’s so much.
Such velvety volumes that ooze down in creamy dredges from the very purse of your pussy lips to form a milky ring around his ruddied base. It inflates your constricting walls from the inside - and yet, still not enough.
He presses one hand down to feel for that bump where you’d been filled to the brim. Sure to add more - to paint your dripping insides white until he was shooting blanks the same way he’d done to simply the thought of you. The idea makes him moan-
No, it makes him whimper.
“Still haven’t hngh f-finished tying my hair, honey.” Geto’s mouth leaves possessive marks down your neck. And his sensitive hips dart with a simple, sullying gyration, smiling, “Either you hngh finally do it properly like a good girl th-this time n’ we make a movie or- we go see one. This weekend. You and me. Your choice, Screen Queen.”
A/N. This got LONG but OHH PIERCED GETO MY BELOVED.
your nerdy fuckbuddy gojo has a tongue piercing?!?
“gojo—“ you said. “pause. stop.” you added, pulling his head up, away from your pussy. normally, you’d never stop him. ever. he pushed his slightly fogged up glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then spoke, his tone quiet and worried. “wh—what’s wrong? did— does it not feel good? a—am i going too fa—“ you shook your head quickly, and then sat up on your forearms.
“no, no, of course not— it’s .. i dunno. something feels.. weird. sort of.. cold.” you spoke, feeling sort of uncertain and deluded. you had never felt this feeling when he ate you out. you grabbed his chin lightly, and then thumbed at his lips. “do you have ice in your mouth or something?” you asked.
“uh—no..? but.. i.. can if you’d like that?” he said, looking up at you with a worried expression on his face. as he spoke, though, you noticed something shining in his mouth. “open your mouth.” you ordered. and he did so. quicker than you’d expected. he stuck his tongue out, and you gasped. “when did you get that?” you said, staring at the metal ball on his tongue.
“um.. a few days ago. i lost a bet with my brother.” he said, scratching his head and looking away, almost like he was embarrassed. “your brother.. the one in the fraternity?” you asked. “that’s the one.” he confirmed. wasn’t too far off from him. you’ve met him before— saturo. the sleazy, disgustingly sexy yet dangerous frat boy. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him.
“hm.” you said quietly. “do you like it?” he whispered, going back down so his nose was level with your cunt. “does it make you feel good?” he said, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh. he gave you a long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, not breaking eye contact. “when i got it done,” he said quietly, giving your clit a sweet kiss, and snaking his arms around your thighs to hold you down, so you wouldn’t twitch so much. “i couldn’t stop thinking of you. i was so excited to use it on you..” he murmured against you.
he reached up his hand, dragging his middle finger and ring fingers from your clit, down to circle around your hole, and then finally, inserting them in. he leaned up to you, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, then another against your ear as he fingered you. “satoru—“ you moaned, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. you bit your lip, and then he leaned down to capture your lips, wasting no time to use his tongue.
his tongue circled yours, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, and the feeling of his metal on your tongue. “i lost the bet on purpose.” he whispered against your lips. “i overheard you talking about guys with tongue piercings, and..” he said softly, giving your lips a chaste peck, his thumb moving up to work your clit as he fingered you. “i got jealous. jealous that you potentially didn’t have me in mind.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “i wanted nothing more than for you to experience this. nothing more than for you to use me for as long as you want to.” he said, his tone almost whiny as he pleaded.
‧ ₊❝ higuruma fucks the prosecutor after losing his case!
there's a million reasons why you shouldn't be doing this.
one, he's a defense attorney, and you're a prosecutor, fighting for opposing goals. you're enemies on the legal battlefield — one of you always has to lose. in fact, you’d clashed with him over many court cases over the span of your career, and every time, neither of you were willing to let the other claim the victory.
two, you’re fucking in his office. that has to be in violation of every workplace and HR policy. there was a non-zero chance someone could walk past and hear the awful squelching and moans. and an even higher chance that this would jeopardise both of your careers.
it was all quite unbecoming of two highly-respected lawyers. despite being highly aware of these facts, it didn’t mean it would translate into rational actions.
you could tell yourself that you tried pushing higuruma away when he tugged you into his office, that you slapped his hands away when they came to unbutton your blouse, that you kicked him hard in the balls when he peeled off your soaked panties, but you knew that would be completely against the legal oath to “tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”.
it’s a good thing you weren’t being questioned in court.
no one had to know you had let higuruma swipe the stacks of legal documents off his desk, the sheets of white picked up by the wind from the ceiling fan. and they definitely didn't need to know you wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to hoist you up onto the desk, his hands gripping the flesh on your thighs.
your skirt was pulled down, pooling underneath your feet; your sheer tights were ripped apart, seam splitting down the middle.
the way higuruma’s hips snapped against yours was depraved enough, but not for him, it seemed. as the desk beneath you squeaked under the weight of his thrusts, you were forced to look over his blazer-covered shoulders, out the large windows that overlooked the busy streets of tokyo.
fully knowing there were blinds that could be easily drawn down, he had instead made you deal with the humiliation (or thrill) of knowing someone in the opposite buildings could catch you being railed by your biggest rival.
one glimpse of your flushed cheeks and messy hair would tell a passer-by all they needed to know about what was going on in the office.
“is your ego really that easily wounded? you shouldn’t be that surprised, i was always sensei’s favourite—f-fuck—after all,” you spat, letting out an involuntary moan when higuruma’s tip slammed against your cervix, his hand tightening against your waist.
“you talk too much. you were just lucky today,” he grunts into your ear, his gravelly voice making your juices further coat his length. it’s almost embarrassing, how wet you’re getting because of him, but who could blame you? not only did he have a good dick, he knew damn well how to use it, much unlike your past hookups.
you scoffed, “just accept the fact that i’m a better lawyer than you.”
“right. and who’s the one that’s dripping all over me?”
fuck. he had you there.
he chuckles at your inability to respond, “yeah, just be a good girl f’me and take my cock.”
“fuck you.” you wheeze.
“you already are.”
that very cock has a mean, right curve that devilishly prods against g-spot with every thrust. it was almost as if it was made for your cunt. it was such a shame you couldn’t stand him, you wouldn’t mind getting dicked down by him every night.
you could feel the subtle pulse of him against your puffy walls, which felt strangely intimate despite how rough he was being. his thrusts were getting sloppier, breath warm against your bare neck.
“shit, you’re s’tight, gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” he regains vigour, wet plaps filling the room. “cum with me.” his dead eyes are glazed over, the eyebags underneath proof of the tireless nights of reviewing cases.
your legs wrap around higuruma’s hips, pulling him flush against you, leaving him almost no room to pull out. you’re close too, and he can feel it — the way you’re clenching him tight, the veins on his dick dragging providing a delicious friction that has you whining for more.
higuruma falls onto you as he cums, head landing on the crook of your neck, the bridge of his nose pressing into your flesh. you feel warmth flood your insides as he continues thrusting weakly into you. you reach your own orgasm soon after, the evidence mixing with his cum, leaking onto the polished floors of his office.
you’re both panting, his body slumped over yours, legs caging your frame. you swear you can hear the door knob jiggle, which thankfully, higuruma had locked.
“i demand a retrial,” he says, reaching for his discarded tie.
you roll your eyes. “why? so you can lose to me again and pull me in here for another fuck?”
“who knows, maybe i’ll let you ride my nose next. but i’m not going lose a second time.”
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