papa!kuna overhears your son's friends making comments about you and decides to remind them very quickly whose house they’re in.
the kitchen is warm with the quiet clatter of dishes and the soft hum of the refrigerator. sunlight spills through the window above the sink, lighting the counter where you’re slicing fruit and setting out small bowls.
from the living room comes the chaotic noise of a video game. shouting, laughing, the rapid clicking of controllers.
your son has friends over again. you lean slightly around the corner, raising your voice just enough to be heard over the tv.
“what do you guys want for lunch?”
“gyudon!” one of them calls instantly.
another groans. “not gyudon again, man.”
“burgers,” someone else says. “burgers would be good.”
your son sighs loudly. “anything but rice.”
you laugh under your breath and wipe your hands on a towel.
“okay. burgers it is. i need to grab a few things from the store though.” you slip your shoes on near the door. “i’ll be right back.”
a distracted chorus of “okay” and “yeah” follows you as you step outside and shut the door behind you.
the house settles into the background noise of the game. on the screen, characters run across a battlefield. one of the boys leans back against the couch and stretches his arms.
“your mom’s fine as fuck”
your son barely reacts at first, eyes still on the screen.
another boy snorts. “yeah, seriously.”
a third laughs quietly. “no wonder your dad is always on her.”
that gets a few chuckles.
“i mean, i get it,” one of them continues, glancing toward the kitchen even though you are gone. “if my wife looked and had a body like that i wouldn’t leave her alone either.”
your son’s character stops moving. the sound of the game continues but his controller slowly lowers in his hands. he turns his head.
“yo,” he says.
his voice is calm but tight around the edges.
“watch the way you’re talking about my mom.”
one of the boys shrugs. “what? it was a compliment.”
“it didn’t sound like one.”
the room grows quiet for a moment. then the front door opens. none of them notice at first. heavy footsteps move through the entryway. a tall figure stops at the edge of the living room.
“cut what out?”
the voice is deep. low. all four boys freeze. they turn their heads.
sukuna stands there, broad shoulders filling the doorway, one hand resting lazily against the frame. his expression is calm but his eyes are sharp in a way that makes the air feel suddenly heavier. “repeat it,” he says quietly.
no one speaks.
your son shifts uncomfortably. the other boys stare at the floor. sukuna’s gaze moves across them slowly.
“i asked a question.”
one of the boys finally mutters, “it was nothing, sir.”
sukuna steps into the room. each step is unhurried, controlled. “nothing,” he repeats. he stops beside the couch, looking down at them.
“i heard enough.”
his voice never rises, which somehow makes it worse.
“you’re in my house. sitting on my furniture. eating my food.” his eyes narrow slightly. “and you think it’s acceptable to talk about my wife like that?”
the boys shake their heads quickly.
“no, sir.”
sukuna studies them for a moment, then speaks again.
“let me make something very clear.” the room feels smaller.
“you don’t speak about women like that. not in my house. not anywhere if you have any sense in your heads.”
one of the boys swallows.
“she is my wife. she is the mother of my child.” sukuna’s gaze flicks briefly toward his son before returning to the others. “show some respect.”
“yes, sir.”
“understood?”
a chorus of nervous agreement fills the room. “yes mr. ryomen”
sukuna exhales slowly through his nose, irritation still clear in his expression. “good.”
right then the front door opens again.
“wait,” your voice calls from the entryway. “i forgot my wallet.” you step inside, already reaching for the counter where you left it. as you walk into the living room you notice the silence immediately. four boys sitting stiffly.
sukuna standing in front of them like a statue. you blink.
“what happened in here?”
your son looks like he wants to disappear into the couch. sukuna glances at you. the sharpness in his expression softens just slightly.
“nothing important,” he says.
you look between them again, suspicious but not pushing it. “...okay.”
you grab your wallet and head back toward the door. “i’ll actually be right back this time. don’t destroy the house while i’m gone.”
one of the boys practically salutes. “yes ma’am.” the door closes behind you. the boys slowly look back at sukuna. he is still staring at them.
gojo using his blindfold to gag you when he fucks you in doggy because he can’t keep a hand clasped over your mouth when he’s having too much fun grabbing handfuls of your ass.
usually he’d encourage your noises, but the room he’s pulled you into has thin walls and a door that doesn’t lock. he’d rather not deal with the lectures of someone walking in and witnessing the way your legs shake when you cum. or deal with you putting him on a sex ban for letting anyone see you like that. again.
you're drooling all over his blindfold, half a mind to spit it out and moan his name just to spite him, but he’s being nice and fucking you good so you oblige, even if he is being a bit of an ass about it.
“fucking you so good i gotta gag you to shut you up, hm?” he coos. “should have fucked your throat instead, kept you quiet that way. but fuck—” he snaps his hips against your ass “—you feel so good.”
you fuck back onto his cock a little, pushing your ass back against him, and that’s all it takes to make your lover fold. he moans when he cums, loud, so much so that gagging you was pointless. he doesn't even pretend to care about the noise he's making as he cries out your name with a dramatic groan that you're sure the next city over can hear.
Sukuna and Choso are your roomies and they do not understand the word privacy! constantly just walking in while you're taking a shower, taking over your bed - If they're gonna be that way, you could at least get backshots, but no! They'd rather play Mario Kart and manspread with you on the couch. Sukuna keeps throwing you off rainbow road, (rude!) which leads to your own revenge - cucking him.
pairings - choso x reader x sukuna
warnings- fingering, lots of titty worship, nipple sucking, edging, making Choso whimper, cucking tf outta Kuna in a pink chair lol, petty reader (I luv her) yandere tendencies (both boys) p in v sex, creampie, cum swallowing, ragebaiting kuna -4k
this was a commission for my baby @martianzmars ahhh this is like our fourth one!? I luv u sm!!!
art is from @/679sora on IG
Sukuna and Choso are by far the most annoying roommates a girl could have – constantly in your space, always eating all your favorite snacks, not allowing you any privacy. Shower? They’re standing in the damn bathroom talking to you, thinking you can masturbate in peace? No, they wanna come hang out in your room all the time!
Not just in the apartment either – no, they don’t even let you go anywhere without them, the couple times they have they’ve come to the parties and made sure they were on either side of you, fending off any of the men. Aside from work and classes they’re not in, the two men tag along anywhere – up to and including getting manicures.
It was pretty cute to see them get their nails painted black, and how ticklish they get when they’re getting pedicures – but to have no alone time? To have no girls nights out, no they go to those too, heaven help if a guy maybe tries to talk to you, the two of them make sure anyone who is brave enough to approach is sent off running.
You love having them around, even when the two giant men just take over your entire bed, big ass arms all heavy and weighing you down when you wake up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind that if either of them used their cocks that were pressing on either side of you, but no they just snuggle you closer, leaving you soaking wet and aching, unable to use any of your toys in peace.
Menaces, they’re menaces.
Choso is an adorable menace, a sweetheart – but menace nonetheless. Sukuna was more outspoken with how insane he was, he lived to fuck with you, once he thought it would be funny to hide your dildo collection you’re so proud of. You didn’t talk to him for a week after that, until he groveled and bought you a brand new one for your addition.
Little did you know – Sukuna had it moulded to fit his cock exactly, the thought that you were getting stretched out by his shape made it even sweeter when he heard your soft little whines. When he’d jerk it in his room, groaning and tilting his head against that wall like a pervert.
Sometimes he’d use your panties to cum, he loved when you couldn’t find them and got all upset – he even took your scrunchies because they smell like your shampoo. Okay maybe Sukuna’s a bit obsessed with you, but is Choso much better?
No, he’s not, Choso is just a little sneakier, thinking of fucking you and jerking it when he’s in the shower and you’re talking to him, trying to muffle his moans as he pictures you right on your knees.
Not that you’re aware of any of it.
Even now, they’re smushing you between them on the couch, manspread thighs against your own, you never get any space with these two.
“Hah, i’ll throw your ass right off rainbow fucking road,” Sukuna’s grinning like the psycho he is when he nudges your cart, your cute little Yoshi flying off.
“Ugh, you dick!”
“Sukuna,” Choso sighs and shakes his head. “Stop throwing her off.”
“Stop throwing her off,” you smack him with his mocking tone, getting back onto the road and speeding up. “Hah!”
“Not again!? You’re such a jerk!”
“I’ll avenge you angel,” Sukuna rolls his eyes when Choso runs Sukuna off the road, and his bowser goes flying, you snicker in laughter as Sukuna crashes out.
“Choso, my hero!”
“I’ll come fucking get the both of you,” Sukuna’s locked in, brows lowered – far too close to you now as if the couch isn’t big enough for him, his biceps flexing in a concerning ass way that makes you stop driving. “What brat, ya done?”
“I um…” you blink and focus once more, in time for Choso to lean forward, his elbow resting on your bare thigh so casually.
Casual.
You’re ovulating and losing mario kart!
“Mnh…”
They both look at you and you cover your face in embarrassment, slick dribbling down your inner thighs – you’re always wet around them but today is too fucking much, how many times a day can you change your panties? You could swear they keep coming up missing too.
“You all right angel?” Choso asks softly, tilting his head and looking at you far too closely, hand on your cheek. “You’re warm! Do you have a fever?”
“N-no,” Sukuna scoffs and yanks the remote from your hands, feeling your head for himself.
“You are warm, brat, better not be sick,” he tilts your chin up and smirks. “You lost big time, hah you suck.”
“Ugh!” You shove at him once more. “You suck! I’m fine!”
You three play another round and Sukuna won’t stop knocking you off, sending your car into a tailspin, you get so damn mad at him you toss the remote on the floor. Sukuna snorts when you cross your arms.
“Looking like a little spoiled brat.”
“I am not! You’re just rude!”
“Tch, can’t even lose a game,” you’re so irritated and so horny you can’t think right now, just glaring at the pink haired menace. “Don’t feel bad, I beat you at every single game, don’t I?”
“Sukuna stop,” Choso sets his remote down, wrapping a protective arm and tugging you against him. “Leave her alone, you’re really being a dick over it.”
“I am competitive, she’s the sore loser.”
“You’re not competitive, you’re being an ass,” you snuggle to Choso now and he blushes, your lips against his neck, tickling his skin.
“Thank you Cho,” you murmur, pressing a kiss, he sucks in a breath, hand tightening at your waist, Sukuna glares at the sight, smacking Choso’s hand right off you. “Hey!”
“You’re mad she’s snuggling to me.”
“Hah, right,” Sukuna stands up now, yanking you off Choso like the big brute he is, you kick at him and he smirks, yanking your ankle. “Think ya can hurt me, brat?”
“You’re the biggest brat there is, Ryomen Sukuna!”
“Wow, my full name – really,” you stick your tongue out and Sukuna bars you with his arms on the couch, making your breath catch. Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean he’s not hot and ruining you with his proximity. “Admit you’re trash at Mario cart and I’ll make you feel real good, won’t have to fuck yourself tonight with your dildo collection.”
“Invasion of privacy! No, I won’t admit I suck,” you smack at his arm and then climb right onto Choso’s lap, he sucks in a breath at the action.
“Oh… Oh! Oh,” he’s gripping your waist with those big hands, dragging your heat against that bulge underneath his pants as you move your hips, his eyes darkening. “Hi.”
You giggle a bit at that, moving again, feeling Sukuna tense behind you. “Hi.”
“Get off his damn lap,” Sukuna turns your face towards him, just to get Choso smacking his hand away this time. “I’ll beat both your asses.”
“No you won’t,” Choso murmurs, turning your face to him now, thumb brushing little circles on your hip, making you even wetter. “I’ll make you feel good without you having to say you ‘suck’ at Mario cart. You don’t suck.”
“I can suck,” you whisper, leaning forward and giggling, Choso moans when you kiss his lips, and everything in your living room shifts.
It’s a desperate kiss once Choso gets a taste of you, moaning into your mouth and working your body against him, sucking in a breath, eyes fluttering shut, sucking your tongue in his mouth and rutting up against you. You whine out at it, you could almost cum from just feeling him, one of his hands entangling in his hair.
“Are you really gonna leave me out?” Sukuna asks, flipping you before you can think, now your back is pressed on Choso’s hard chest, Sukuna is kneeling, his hands pressing against your tits. You’re ovulating so bad they’re full and aching, your nipples sensitive when he brushes his thumbs on them. “You’re needy, huh brat?”
“Not for you and your Mario cart cheating tactics, mnh!” He uses a hand to tug up your shirt, your tits spilling out, earning his moan.
“Don’t want my mouth on them?” You can’t say no, not when Choso’s biting your neck, his fingers slipping up your shorts, making your thighs tremble, back arching for more of Sukuna’s touch. “Answer.”
“I am still mad at you, but I’ll let you do that,” he smirks as if he’ll get to fuck you – little does Sukuna know you take Mario Kart very seriously, and you’re planning on making your giant, pink haired roomie pay. “Mnh!”
Sukuna presses you back against Choso, grabbing your tit and wrapping his lips around the little bud, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth, tongue ring clicking against it and earning a soft moan. You move against Choso who whines out in response, cock licking so much sticky pre it’s drizzling against your inner thigh, his finger running over your panties.
“Ngh,” soft moans escape your lips as Sukuna sucks one nipple, the other toyed with by his thumb and forefinger, Choso’s running up and down your slit until you’re dripping wet. “Choso…”
“Even now?” Sukuna scowls and you grin, earning a sharp bite on your tit, leaving glistening teeth marks, you gasp in shock and he grins. “Marked you.”
“Freak,” you grumble, but he’s sucking your other nipple, and your hand finds its way in his pink silky hair, it’s so soft, you tug hard and he grips your tit hard, sucking it in his mouth as Choso toys your clit. “F-fuck… mnh…”
“You’re soaked baby,” Choso whispers, tilting your face to his and kissing you, messy with your tongues dripping saliva. “Like that?”
“Y-yes, ow!” Sukuna bites the fuck out of you again, earning your attention, you yank the fuck out of his hair and make him moan.
“Where’s my attention!?”
“I’m still mad, I already told you,” Sukuna tugs your shorts to the side, seeing how soaking wet you are, panties drenched.
“Already fuck yourself today?”
“Maybe,” he smirks. “Why?”
“Nothing – just that’s my cock.”
“What!?” You shove him hard, he’s chuckling and Choso’s damn near about to bust with how you wiggle. “You did not seriously? Psycho!”
“Bet you loved it,” you did, fuck him. “Could you take it all?”
“No – I mean!? Yep, hah wasn’t that -”
Before you can finish your petty lie, Sukuna’s kissing you, messy and mean with it, tongue ring clicking the roof of your mouth, you’re rocking back and forth, dying for them inside you. If you weren’t such a petty girl, maybe you’d let Sukuna slide his cock inside your cunt, where Choso’s running circles against your slick entrance – but you’re still mad about Mario Kart.
And now he’s making his cock your dildo!?
“You’re batshit insane,” you’re still kissing him though, Choso’s got your clit twitching and Sukuna’s pinching your nipples and rolling them, the simultaneous play is too much to handle. “You c-can’t just… mnh, d-do that.”
“That’s not fair, I wanna make you one,” Choso pouts as he sinks two fingers in your messy, needy cunt, you’re soaking them and quivering, sucking them up so damn easy. “Do you want one of me?”
“I do, stop biting, you dick!” Sukuna’s furious – how dare you give him all the attention when Sukuna is right there, he slips his finger down and Choso pulls his out with a wet pop, sucking on them and moaning.
Fuck he’s hot.
You’re a little lost when you realize Sukuna’s shoving two fingers deep, scissoring them in and out of your hole. “Hah your cunt is already fucked out, you must love my dick stretching your messy cunt out.”
“You w-wish,” your thighs are held up by Choso for Sukuna’s mean fingers to rock in and out of your cunt with loud squelches, your nails press into Choso’s forearms when he grips your tit, squishing it in his hand and rutting that leaky cock right on you. “Close, close… Sukuna!?”
“You thought,” he yanks his fingers out, smirking at the obscene amount dripping, slipping them right in your mouth. “Suck.”
You bob your mouth up and down his knuckles, cheeks all flushed and your eyes dazed, Sukuna moans at the sight, picturing how well you’d suck his cock, as you slip your tongue between those digits. Choso’s already fingering you again, your cheeks hollowed, eyes rolling back.
“I’ll let you cum baby,” he murmurs, Sukuna scoffs – Choso was always trying to ‘please you’ and this was no different, you’re sucking Sukuna’s fingers as his hand grips under your chin, Choso’s fingers making a mess between your thighs as you clamp down. “Go ahead, cum for me.”
“Mmph!” You’re drooling as Sukuna’s fingers go deeper, damn near choking you with them, orgasm making you squirt all over Choso’s lap, drops smacking against Sukuna’s pants, he groans at the sigh.
“Messy lil slut, look at ya, can’t handle a couple fingers?”
“Fuck off, was cummin’ for Choso,” Choso grins, his fingers easing out of your cunt with a messy pop as she keeps spasming, gushing arousal down onto the couch you’re sitting on. “Cho, come on.”
“Come where baby?”
“My room,” you stand and push past Sukuna, whose cock is so hard you can see it pressing out, he winces and has to adjust it when you’re crooking your finger. “You can watch.”
“Watch!? The fuck?”
You drag Choso – dopey grin on his face and all – giggling as you rush him to your room. “Yep.”
“I’m not just gonna watch you…” You’re stripped down right in front of them in moments, and both the boys have open mouths.
Listen, you’ve been waiting to fuck them, and cucking Sukuna seemed apt enough punishment after the shit he was pulling today. Your tits bounce when you turn to Choso, slipping off his shirt and running your fingertips across his tattooed chest, he snatches you up and kisses you, surprising you by how needy he is, you thought he may be shy.
He’s so not shy when he eagerly steps out of his pants, and you see all that white dripping through his boxers. “I am not watching.”
“You sit right there,” you point to your bright pink gaming chair, a big ass flower cushion and a plushy on it, Sukuna’s red eyes narrow – for a moment he does scare you, but not when he throws your plushy and pillow on the ground. “Hey!”
“Fuck off,” he sits in the chair and it creaks under his heavy weight, crossing his arms now. “Well, put on your little show – you’ll beg me to join.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, want all your holes filled,” his eyes drift down the curves of your body, his cock aching so badly he unzips his pants, watching your fucked out little gaze. “Like what you see?”
Who wouldn’t like that thick, veiny cock with the pierced reddened tip? Drooling white as he strokes it in front of you. Your throat goes dry as you consider if you can give him such a punishment, but you smile all mean.
“Admit you cheat at Mario Kart.”
“I don’t you brat!?”
“Then no,” you press Choso down on the bed, he’s tugging his boxers off, his pretty cock smacking his belly button, pre just dripping against that black strip of hair over his cock. “Oh… You’re so ready, aren’t you Choso?”
“Please,” he’s tugging you on him, giving Sukuna a view of your ass, your cunt gliding along Choso’s cock and dripping all over. “Oh pretty…”
He’s got a piercing too, right on his pretty pink tip, you’re running your slit right along it, hands braced on his chest, Choso's mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth. You’re whining out when he plays with the other, holding them both in his hands as you move.
“Your titties are so pretty,” he whispers, one hand slipping down to your waist, god he’s dreamed of you but not like this – gliding your cunt right on him? He could lift you and slam his cock so deep, but he also wants to let you tease him, edge him till he can’t help himself. “F-fuck… you’re so wet…”
“Rub it in,” Sukuna earns your laugh, peeking over your shoulder and arching so he has a look of your hole from the back. “I’d fuck you right in your ass first.”
“You would not!”
“Sure would, Choso can have your cunt..”
“I’ll take any hole,” you giggle again, kissing your roomie, his lips plush underneath yours, your nails press into his shoulders as his tip bumps your needy clit. “Ah! Choso…”
“Do you l-like it baby?” You nod eagerly, he’s sucking your tits again, dragging you down hard, his cock leaking more pre – so much he worries he did cum, but it’s still thickening against you. “Wanna fill you up with all my cum. Eat it out of you.”
“Mnh,” you’re leaning up now, gliding faster, watching Choso lose it, bruising your waist, his cheeks dusted with pink.
“You really gonna do all this for MARIO KART!? You’re such a petty little annoying brat.”
You glare and turn around, reverse cowgirl right on Choso’s cock, he’s whimpering and Sukuna’s stroking his cock, his lips parted as he takes in your body facing him. “You’re petty! And annoying, you never give me privacy!”
“Neither does he!?” Sukuna stands, his cock so heavy it’s just hanging, dripping on the pink fluffy rug.
“You’re making a mess, Kuna, all over my rug.”
His jaw sets, Choso’s fingers are pressing harder as he drags you up and down, gasping out. “Like you didn’t squirt on me!?”
“Can I put it in please?” Choso’s completely ignoring your spat – how can he think when he’s so close to being able to slide his cock inside your cute, soaking wet hole?
“Y-yes,” you let him lift you and grab his cock, wrapping his hand around the base, tip slipping in your hole. “Mnh!”
“Oh my god,” he drags you down in one stroke – deep inside – so much your tummy bulges for Sukuna to see, he groans at the sight, Choso lifting you and that mess of slick glistening. “You’re so f-fucking wet, god you feel so good.”
Sukuna’s gripping your hair and bending down as you ride Choso’s cock, ass bouncing up and down, nails pressing into his thighs to keep balance, he lifts your ass up and groans, fingers dimpling the plump flesh of your ass. “Making a whole show, aren’t you?”
You take your hand and swipe your thumb over Sukuna’s tip, licking it off and watching him lose it, only to rock on Choso’s cock more, feeling him hit your cervix, making you gasp out desperately. “You’re so deep, mnh!”
“Swear to god,” Sukuna’s stroking his cock when Choso sits up and puts you on all fours, slapping his heavy cock against your ass, you moan and arch, face precariously close to Sukuna’s cock. “Come on, fuck… just lemme…”
“You can jerk off near me,” You gasp out, a broken little moan spilling from your lips as Choso slams right back in, heavy balls kissing your clit, your head falling back. “You’re lucky to even get that.”
“Fuckin’ brat,” Choso’s groaning as you grip him with your gummy walls just fluttering, he can’t even focus on anything but the curve of your ass like this, the way his tip is pressing your cervix, how full his balls are.
Your thighs tremble, hands gripping the blanket, looking back at him all pretty as he splits you open on his cock. “Ch-choso… f-feels so…”
You break off talking when he shoves in hard, pinning you to him and rolling those hips – god Choso could fuck, you didn’t think he couldn’t exactly but you sure didn’t expect that. He slams again harder, pushing your face until your mouth is almost brushing Sukuna’s needy tip, just that has the six foot five man whimpering.
“Fuck… slutty lil brat,” you’d scowl or stick your tongue out but Choso’s hitting it too good, stretching you right out to his shape with messy strokes. Your mouth is open with your gasps, every stroke of Sukuna’s hand on his cock making your tummy clench any more.
“Y-you’re gonna admit you cheat,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when Choso grabs your shoulder and fucks in so deep it hurts. “Ah!”
“Stop fighting,” he whines out when you pulse around him, leaning over you and gripping your chin, turning you to him. “Just cum, lemme feel it milk me.”
Oh fuck.
You kiss him and let him rail you, as Sukuna has to watch the girl he’s jerked off to fuck his roomate – all because he just had to make her mad. He wishes it wasn’t so sexy hearing the skin smacking and your messy cunt squishing with every thrust, already about to bust like a pathetic loser.
“I’m s-sorry, fuck,” he mumbles, you pull back and Choso chuckles, slamming against you again, pushing you to arch more. “All right!? Shit you’re mean.”
“You’re s-sorry, really? Mnh!” He moans and grips your hair, jerking right in front of your face as Choso snaps his hips hard.
“Perfect cunt just gripping me, god jus’ like th-that,” he’s pussy drunk off you, he can’t help but be happy he’s inside and not in your bright pink cuck chair, or jerking it like Sukuna.
Not that he wouldn’t enjoy that too, but he’s been fisting his cock to you since the first day you met.
“M’gonna cum,” you whisper now, looking up at Sukuna and moaning, breath tickling the tip of his cock. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes, god just… can I just… cum on your tongue, fuck – I’ll let you win, n-next time just…”
You suppose you’ll take a little pity on him, opening your mouth with your little pink tongue out, letting Sukuna jerk it even closer, strings of puffy cum splattering all over your tongue, your mouth, your chin. It’s fucking filthy having it all over you as your orgasm hits, making you swallow all him up.
“Want me to cum inside your pretty lil hole?” Choso asks, you’re still swallowing Sukuna’s cum when he brushes it on your lips, stroking it so even more oozes from that little slit and decorates your lips.
You nod and arch, your nails now pressing into Sukuna’s thighs, Choso busting deep inside your cunt and all he can get is his tip grazing your damn tongue, he’s so desperate he’s happy for that. He’s groaning as he watches you get filled by Choso’s cum, your fucked out face and your crossed eyes.
“Wanna be inside next,” he mumbles, pulling back and groaning, your nails pressing into the tattoos on his muscled thighs as you tremble.
You’re flooded with Choso’s warmth, coating all your walls as he pulses, thickening even more, tip dragging on your spot over and over, making you both sensitive. “Took all that, so greedy.”
“Mhm,” you whisper, licking Sukuna’s cum off his thumb when he gathers it from your cheek, off your chin, slipping it in your mouth. “You came so much, Choso…”
“What about me you brat!?”
You grin and give him the tiniest kitten flick of your tongue on his tip, watching him jerk from just that. “I’ll maybe forgive you.”
“Maybe? Tch,” Choso pulls out of you with a messy pop, watching all his cum flood out of your hole, pushing it right out and dripping on your blankets.
“Look at all you took,” he plays with the sticky mess, fingering it right back inside and smirking at Sukuna. “I think she likes me more.”
“She does not, she’s just sadistic,” he’d be lying if he didn’t say that turned him on more. He helps you up on your knees, tilting your chin up and kissing his own cum off you, Choso’s kissing up your neck, as you feel him slipping out of you. “Evil little brat. You liked that dildo.”
“Maybe I’ll let you use it on me,” his brows lower as he glares again, Choso snorts against your neck, tugging you closer.
“Use my own dick on you!?”
“Then you can fuck me. If you’re nice.” You turn and straddle Choso again, kissing his mouth, he flicks his tongue and gathers the little bit of Sukuna’s cum off your mouth, moaning.
“Can I at least finger you, or am I still in trouble?” Sukuna pouts kind of cutely, you admit, so you nod, and let him kneel on the bed, fingering Choso’s cum back inside you.
The universe has a twisted sense of humor when your blind date happens to be your ex-husband, Hiromi Higuruma.
mdni. ragebaiting each other to filth / unprotected / multiple orgs!!
Hiromi Higuruma is a pretty damn good lawyer. Having topped first in the bar exam, everyone knew he had already been set for greatness in the world of law.
He sees every case as a riddle waiting to be solved. Every problem a puzzle, provided you’re patient enough to find the missing piece. He has brought justice to those who need it. Ironically, the only thing he can’t fix is his own marriage.
Hiromi has worked himself into the ground, head down, buried in case files and court wins, and somewhere along the way, he neglected you.
He’s been functioning on autopilot ever since you laid the divorce papers on his table on a random Tuesday morning. It got worse when the divorce was finalized not even a month ago. No appeals, no extensions. Just a clean, almost amicable severance.
A colleague once told him: “It’s a simple case of trial and error, Higuruma. All marriages are like that.”
Hiromi’s forehead creases whenever he remembers it. To him, it was never supposed to be trial and error, especially not with you.
Against his better judgment, Yaga somehow convinces him to agree to a blind date. Says it helped him cope with his own divorce. Hiromi knows better. The man simply doesn’t accept no without exhausting every argument first.
Now, he is seated at a small round table with an unreadable expression and with nothing but Yaga’s voice replaying in his head: 'Doesn’t hurt to try.'
But the universe has a twisted sense of humor.
Because seated across the table is you, staring back at him with the same frozen disbelief written across your face.
Both of you look away almost immediately. Hiromi adjusts his collar. You, on the other hand, casually lift your champagne flute and take a slow sip to steady your nerves.
For a fleeting moment, you consider excusing yourself to the bathroom and never coming back. But after the agonizing length of the divorce, the paperwork, the signatures, and the finality, you decide against running and just give him some grace.
Hiromi clears his throat and reaches for a single red card from the deck sitting in the middle of the table. His eyes skim the question before he exhales quietly.
“Care to tell me something about yourself?” His voice cuts through your thoughts. “Any hobbies? Interests?”
“As if you don’t already know,” you reply flatly while idly sliding a finger along the rim of your glass.
He exhales through his nostrils. He tells himself to be controlled and measured. “Just answer the question.”
You tap your fingers against the table with gaze wandering around the room. “I used to be a pianist before I became a wife.”
“You have a grand piano that only ever collected dust,” he says with something tight flickering behind his eyes. “It was your choice to quit playing.”
“After you said I didn’t have to play a million shows back to back,” you shoot back. You lean forward, elbows on the table. “How about you? Anything new you’re up to?”
“Not much has changed in my routine,” he answers plainly.
You let out a bitter chuckle. “Must be nice. At least your focus is solely on work now.”
Hiromi presses his lips together. After a beat, he draws another card from the deck. The moment he reads it, he stops himself from rolling his eyes.
“What are your deal breakers when dating?”
You sarcastically laugh at his question. “Are you kidding me?”
He looks at you blankly. “Well? The question isn’t answering itself.”
“I don’t like men who treat every disagreement like legal case." You deadpan at him. “I hate men who catalogue every mistake, see my emotions as something to cross examine, and– get this– refuse to admit their fault.”
Hiromi smirks. “I thought you liked highly opinionated men. What changed?”
You inhale sharply. “I don’t like it when they get unreasonable.”
His brow lifts with amusement. “Unreasonable in what sense?”
“In the sense that they don’t back down during small arguments,” you snap, “like we’re fighting in court instead of having a conversation.”
Hiromi leans back, arms crossing, smirk deepening. “Isn’t that how communication works?”
Heat creeps up your cheeks that you glance away. “Yeah, but—”
“But what?” he cuts, and his posture straightens instinctively. “You want compromise without concession. That’s not how problems are resolved.”
“Oh my god,” you scoff. “Listen to yourself. We’re on a blind date, not in a court room! Hold a fucking conversation, will you?”
“A conversation requires structure,” he counters. “You can’t keep spitting out bullshit and expect me not to question them.”
“And that’s exactly the problem!” Your voice rises. “Every time I tried to tell you how I felt, you treated it like I was exaggerating.”
“Because you never explained yourself clearly.”
"I do. You just want me to lay them out like evidence just to be heard,” you snap. “I wasn’t some client in a case, I was your wife.”
His jaw tightens. “And yet you walked away just like that.”
You laugh sardonically. “Oh. Like I never begged you to come home before midnight? On our anniversaries?”
Hiromi frowns at this. “You know how my job is.”
“I was losing you,” you say quietly. “And you didn’t care enough to notice.”
Silence looms over briefly. Then, he coldly says, “Resorting to divorce was unnecessary.”
"Wow. Just Wow. You–"
From the neighboring table, a silver-haired man wearing a name tag that reads 'Satoru' slams his hand down.
“Jesus Christ,” he yells, “just fuck it out!”
Your eyes widen in horror now that everyone's heads are now on your table. When you look back at Hiromi, something languid has entered his gaze. It is dark, slow, and very familiar.
“Should we head home?” he asks softly.
It’s absurd, really.
After the divorce is finalized and a stupid blind date, your ex-husband's face is buried between your legs, greedily lapping at your cunt while three fingers stretch you open.
The thing is, no matter how many times you finger fuck yourself or put the rose on blast, you’ll never finish the way Hiromi makes you do.
“Oh my god—” You clutch his hair. “—Hiro.”
You squirm, but he grips your hips and pulls you closer, groaning into you as he devours every sound you make.
Your body is a shaking, and you've now turned into a moaning mess beneath his touch. Hiromi's fingers pump perfectly while his tongue abuses your clit, circling until your vision whites out.
“Fuck— gonna cum again.”
His eyes burn with lust as you buck your hips. He pulls back just enough to speak. “Yeah. That’s right.”
There were no intelligent words that came to mind, all you could let out are whimpers and sobs of pleasure as another orgasm took over your body.
Hiromi lets out a dark chuckle as he licks the corners of his mouth hungrily while wiping the bottom of his chin with the back of his veiny hand.
You know him like the back of your hand. Sure as hell know that he's far from over. So it was no surprise when he suddenly carries your limp, overstimulated body on top of him.
“Hiro,” you murmur weakly. “I’m too tired to ride you.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Holding your hip to lift you, Hiromi aligns his cock at your entrance. Then, he sinks you down onto his cock. “I’ll do the work.”
You gasp when his fat cock fills you to a hilt. “You’re– too big for me.”
“No, you just–” he grunts. “You’re tighter.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, and pounds in and out of you in deep, deliberate strokes, making you shriek against his neck. It doesn't help that he keeps whispering low, gutteral grunts against your ear.
“Hiro– fuck!”
You whimper, but your words fall on deaf ears as his swollen cock pistons even deeper with deliberate, hard strokes. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, and your walls clench hard at how much his cock brushed on your sweet spot over and over.
“Cum again for me.”
“I dont–” you chok the words out as best you can, “–don’t think I can.”
Hiromi grips your ass with both hands, pushing it down further at his length so he can fuck you even deeper than he already did. “You can. We've done this before.”
With tears of pleasure pooling at the corner of your eyes, you mutter, “Hiro, I can’t.”
“I said,” But he slaps your ass, leaving a red mark across the skin. “Do.” he slammed his hips harder at each word for emphasis, “It.”
And you do.
You hiss against his neck as he quickens the pace, hips snapping harder, deeper. The overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body makes your toes curl, and with your eyes squeezed shut, you let the orgasm crash over you, leaving you shaking in his arms.
He keeps fucking you through it. Deep, rough, and unrelenting, until you’re both chasing the edge together, riding each other out in the same breathless moment.
“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder endearingly, but all you could respond is a tired hum.
"Hiromi."
"Hm?"
“Nice fuck,” you whisper. "I'm starting to think," you pant in between your sentence, "the divorce was a mistake."
Hiromi scoffs out a wry chuckle.
"Never should've happened in the first place, by the way." He looks down at you lovingly, and plants a soft kiss on your temple, "We can can re-marry any time next week if you'd like."
You smile to yourself and mumble, "I would love that."
Time after Time-Finished- Wc: 103k- (Ao3) CEO Gojo x fem assistant reader, you're his lead assistant for years, and you put in your two weeks notice, because your boss is a grade A ASS of a man! so your boss Satoru Gojo pulls out ALL the stops to keep you, not realizing how good he has it and how lost he'd be without you. Is he who you thought he was, or more? Smutty/fun/sweet - my first Gojo fic
rewrite of Time after Time here! Chap 1 out
Take Me Home Tonight - Finished-Wc: 136k- law professor Gojo/x law student (A03) you hook up with a sexy white haired man at a club after passing your bar, only to be in his class two months later!?!? The arrogant top notch Lawyet, Satoru Gojo. Just how can you handle falling in love with your professor, and can you both keep this a secret? Very witty/lots of banter, law setting-smutty and sweet
Fractured Desires - Finished- explicit- wc 95k (angsty/ toxic/smutfest) Ao3 You're Suguru Geto's girlfriend, and he decides to 'share you'- with his friend who is otherwise a a dick to make you all get along. It becomes a fkn MESS, when you find out that Satoru has wanted you all along, and Suguru isn't who you think he is. (Starts off as Sugu/reader- Extremely explicit-yandere asf, Evil suguru, psycho Gojo)
Silent Serenades - Finished- wc 152k - You are promised to marry the handsome Duke Gojo, you're the diamond of the season, after all. Only thing is, he HATES you, and has no intention of being faithful. Now you're stuck in a loveless marriage that eats you from within, but you won't let him break you down, no you give him a taste of his very own medicine. Has he pushed you into the arms of another, and can he ever get you back? Angsty arranged marriage AU, love triangle, cheating, toxic- set in the 1800s- AO3
Healing Hearts - Dr. Gojo/intern-ongoing- 82k You're an exhausted intern, living with your three friends, Maki, Toge and Yuuta, and you just so happen to be Dr. Gojo's intern. - or as you soon call him 'Dr. Hojo' he seems perfect, but he's hiding a dark secret. The two of you couldn't be more different, is there any hope? what sort of demons does the 'perfect' doctor Gojo posess? Heavy angst/Hospital setting - angsty Ao3
Baby You're a Star - finished - 85k wc - you meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, the two of you hit it off, but he is the top pornstar there is. You don't sleep around, soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?- explicit, super fkn angsty- shy/Demi reader w/Pornstar Satoru- Ao3
Just Friends!? -hiatus- 57k Nerdjo x popular reader- based on the movie 'Just Friends'- Satoru left his old life behind, leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin, but is he still your sweet best friend deep down?- lots of angst and feels, friends to nothing to lovers- Ao3
Veiled Secrets- ongoing - 75k wc - you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do with all of that, he doesn't even come to your first meeting - rude! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts, but it turns out he doesn't know that you're not happy to be here either - but when a tentative bond forms, and love blooms, the court tries to tear you apart. Who can you trust? ao3
Ricochet - ongoing - 43k - you're a young college professor teaching English Lit and history, you don't live an insanely exciting life - no, you enjoy spending time at home with a good book and a glass of red. You're perfectly content until a certain student sets his pretty blue eyes on you - senior Satoru Gojo. who has become obsessed with you, and he won't stop until you're all his. ao3
Dopamine ongoing -42k You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable. Torn apart by insecurities, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you Ao3
Mini Series
On Thin Ice- Satoru Gojo - hockey Star- loves three things - hockey, coke and women. Which is the reason his coach Sukuna wants to make sure he stays as far away from his niece - you - as possible. Satoru can't help but become obsessed the moment he sees you spinning on the ice. But there's one big problem - an overbearing, grumpy one named Uncle Kuna. Is he right to protect you, or is there more to Satoru than what's on the surface?
You belong with me - ongoing - 18k - You were friends with him from birth - the boy across the street, Satoru Gojo. However, you lose touch in college, but finally you're going to the same school! You have a love letter written, but you find Satoru - the football captain - is dating the top cheerleader. And she hates you. Can the two of you have a friendship anymore, and does he feel the same way as you?
Brooklyn Baby - FInished- 40k wc - you've got the opportunity of a lifetime for an audition for Julliard, your dream, but there's just one problem, the hotel in New York has booked your room and has nothing available. Good news, your dad's best friend Satoru Gojo shows up, bad news - you both want each other, and it cannot happen, right? - ao3
Losing Control Now- Finished - 45.5k- Mafia AU, notorious mobster Satoru Gojo becomes obsessed with you, the pretty bartender at his favorite club- but he finds you have your own secrets, threats to your life, and plans to save you at all costs. Lots of smut, Satoru being obsessed, mafia themes - sweet Gojo- explicit - Ao3
Took You Like a Shot - finished - wc- 42k - You and Satoru Gojo (fratboy/fuckboi Gojo) have been rivals for all of college, right up until the last day of school, where you end up under him and... pregnant somehow!? shit. But have you two actually hated each other, or are you both lying to yourselves? Can a party boy raise a kid? - Ao3
Would you come with me? - Finished- 22k wc - You have been Satoru's best friend forever, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. Just a pretend marriage, to get them all off his backs of course! But have you been in love all along!? Three parts, fluffy and hella smutty, friends to lovers. Ao3
୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo long Oneshots ˚୨୧ // ୨୧˚ Satoru Gojo short oneshots ˚୨୧
𖥻 Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higurama Hiromi
Summary. As a last hail mary to save your crumbling marriage with Nanami Kento, he whisks you away to the most romantic city in the world– Paris. One final chance of reminding you why you fell in love with the man you barely knew anymore. But that plan backfires when you meet Higuruma Hiromi, a much older and much more experienced divorce attorney who wouldn’t mind helping you out of your unhappy marriage.
𖥻 Tags. Angst angst angst, drama, Bisexual awakening for nanami kento, hurt/comfort(later), reader is bitchy rn but you'll find out why, mutual pining, smut with plot, more tba.
Credits. Art by ilameys on twt, dividers by @angeliicide
You remembered the first sunrise you spent married to Nanami Kento.
White, stained sheets cascaded across worshipped skin as if soothing your newly welcomed aches and sores. The same aches that seemed to bleed away as you were greeted by soft, hazel-colored eyes.
Rose-tinted glasses must really be a thing, because you let that love and attention make its way deep into your heart until it blinded you from any wrong your husband could do.
Only recently– and now especially– have you come to realize that there was a blurry line between love and convenience. And you were very convenient.
“Do you need anything?”
You’re snapped out of your daze as you avert your eyes from the view outside of the plane and towards the man sitting beside you. “Huh? No, I’m fine.”
Nanami stares at you, eyes raking you up and down for any sign of discomfort. The kind that isn't caused by him, that is.
You force yourself to go back to staring at the fading city below you before you could say anything else. You refuse to give him anything. Maybe help him realize that there is nothing that could make up for every cold night where you were left eating alone, sleeping beside cold pillows and waking up beside borrowed warmth. As if he was a ghost in the house the two of you built.
Maybe you were the ghost, hanging onto the last threads of life that he brought you. It was hard to tell.
A few minutes go by, and you could still feel the rigid air between the two of you, thick enough to cut with a knife but not enough to suffocate the life out of you. You really wish it would.
“You’ve been staring out the window for almost twenty minutes,” he says after a moment much too short for your liking, voice calm but tight. “I thought you might want something to drink.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to sound irritated,” he says.
“Maybe I am irritated.”
That finally shuts him up again, much to your relief.
The flight is a long one, spent in silence as you try to ignore the aching in your heart, the dragging of every beat weighing on your ribs. The silence is occasionally cut by Nanami trying to make conversation, before he's quickly shut down.
“I’m trying,” he says carefully. “This trip is supposed to help us.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Nanami frowns slightly. “We already went over this, didn’t we?”
You keep your eyes locked on a stray cloud out the window, never meeting his. “Did we?”
A tired sigh escapes his lips, no doubt a furrow already forming between his brows. Still, he refuses to give up the ‘sad, regretful husband trying to make it up to you’ act. “We both agreed that time away from work–”
“Your work.” You interrupted, reminding him that he’s the only one who spends ungodly amounts of time on his career. Reminding him that you did everything else while leaving space for him– space he never cared to fill.
His lips purse into a line as his voice comes out a little more strained this time. “–My work, would do good for the both of us.”
“Did you realize that now, or did you know that the entire time?” Came your clipped answer, voice dull as you mulled over your actual importance to the man you call your husband.
Your soon-to-be ex-husband sucks in a breath, glancing around to the aisle opposite of the two of you. “Don’t be difficult, it's hard to do this as it is–”
Your head snapped to meet his irritated gaze. “Hard to do what?”
That seemed to humble him, enough to have him shrink in his seat and look like he regretted even getting on the plane. Good.
“Hard to do what, Kento?” You repeated.
His voice was much calmer this time, much softer. “..make it up to you.”
You lean back into your seat, “Is it?” your arms cross against your chest, tone sarcastic. “I wouldn't have guessed.”
The plane hums steadily around you, the low engine noise filling the silence that follows. Your conversation wasn’t exactly hushed, but you didn’t care if you gave the rest of the passengers a glimpse into some reality show.
Luckily, he finally seems to take the hint and shut up in his seat for a while. By the time the captain announces the descent into Paris, another reason is on your list on why this won’t work.
Nanami straightens in his seat as the plane begins to lower.
“Make sure your seatbelt is secure,” he says automatically.
You blink. “I’m not a child.”
“Right, sorry.”
When the wheels finally hit the runway, the subtle jolt travels through the cabin. People around you begin shifting, gathering bags, turning on their phones.
Nanami stands as soon as the seatbelt sign turns off.
“Stay seated,” he says, already reaching for the overhead compartment. “I’ll get your bag.”
“I can–”
“I’ve got it.”
Your suitcase comes down a moment later. You let out a short exhale before muttering a quiet “Thankyou.”
He lets you walk in front of him, and as the line advances, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you forward. You couldn’t help but straighten your back further, but accept the gesture anyway.
Nanami had always done it. In every crowd during every date, a hand is around your waist or on the small of your back. You hadn’t felt it again for months before today, not before you had left divorce papers on the table of his study. Somewhere you knew he’d see, because god knows he’d barely glance anywhere else. You included.
At the airport, you’re practically treated like royalty. As if it were your honeymoon again. He retrieves the luggage, calls a taxi and checks the hotel reservation.
It made your heart swell to see him so attentive again, yet the feeling was hammered down with the question, ‘how long would this last?’ A month? A year? Would it be the slow fade like before, how every date was rescheduled until there were none at all?
“Are you tired?” he asks as the car drives through the glowing evening streets of Paris. “We can rest before dinner if you’d prefer.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want to see the city tonight or–”
“Kento.”
He stops talking immediately, and you turn slightly in your seat to face him.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get dinner over with already.”
You almost pity the taxi driver who had to sit in that awkward silence for the 15 minutes that felt way too long.
Nanami chose the restaurant, of course. Something elegant but not overly extravagant, tucked along a softly lit street where the glow of warm lanterns reflected against polished windows.
The dinner was quick, not quick enough though. The whispers of lovers around you and their hushed promises felt like salt on an open wound, all the while neither of you could start a conversation without it adding onto the crumbling weight of separation.
“How was the flight for you?”
“It was a flight.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“A little.”
He nods. You have a piece of your food halfway in your mouth when he tries again.
“The hotel concierge mentioned a river walk nearby,” he says, cutting into his meal. “We could see it tomorrow evening if you’d like.”
You don’t look up from your plate.
“Sure.”
Paris glows around you as you make your way to the hotel, beautifully lit buildings and streets. Yellows and oranges reflecting against cobblestone paths as couples ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in cafe’s and on the streets themselves.
Nanami walks slightly beside you rather than ahead, his pace unconsciously matching yours. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and you gently pull away.
The hotel is just as elegant as you expected. Marble floors, tall windows, soft lighting that makes everything feel warm and expensive. The receptionist greets Nanami politely as he confirms the reservation.
It was a beautiful hotel room, one you’d expect from a luxurious place like this. One large bed, a cuck couch instead of a chair, large windows and a marble-white bath. The two of you settle in awkwardly, on opposite ends of the bed as you keep your back turned.
You feel the bed dip closer to you as Nanami’s chest is nearly flush with your back. Your body tenses as he places a soft kiss to the side of your head.
“Goodnight, love.”
You hold in a breath. “Goodnight.”
He stays in place for a while, mulling over his loud thoughts. “Could I.. hold you tonight?”
You bite your lip, hoping he didn’t notice the erratic pounding of your heartbeat. The burn of want and need and love that had been put aside so so many times. “Not tonight, Kento.” Your voice was the softest it had ever been for this entire trip, a fleeting comfort in a sea of awkward and stiff conversation.
“Alright.” He shuffles back to his side of the bed, giving you the space you’d asked for. He knows you don’t want to face him right now, he knows he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness quite yet. Nanami knew that you of all people never deserved to feel unloved when he promised anything but that.
You used to wish for nights like this, once upon a time. Where Nanami would come home early and the two of you would fall asleep together for once, instead of you waking up to shushing and a kiss on the cheek at an ungodly hour.
It takes a while for you to fall asleep, a restless knocking at the back of your head instead of the gentle lull of comfort you used to always feel whenever you slept beside Kento. Sleep came eventually though, a dreamless luxury before sunlight filtered into the room.
For a moment, you forget where you are. Like a kitten crawling its way out of a weighted blanket, all scruff and no thoughts.
Then the faint sound of running water reaches your ears. The bathroom door opens a moment later, and Nanami steps out already dressed for the day. His hair is slightly damp from the shower, suit jacket resting neatly over one arm.
“You’re awake,” he says.
You push yourself upright slightly.
“What time is it?”
“Eight.”
You groan, moving hair out of your face. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I thought you could sleep in for a bit. Yesterday was tiring, after all.” He answers, grabbing his watch and securing it to his wrist. Didn’t you get him that for your first anniversary?
“..Thanks.” You stretch and get out of bed, making your way to the bathroom to wash up.
“There’s a breakfast bar downstairs,” he starts. “I thought we could go together.”
You pause mid-step, hesitation creeping in before you nod. “Okay.”
The dining area downstairs is bright and lively compared to the heavy quiet that clung to the two of you the night before. Sunlight pours through the tall windows lining the walls, washing the room in a soft golden glow that reflects off polished silverware and neatly arranged glasses. It does well in easing the tension between the two of you, but not by much.
Nanami pours you a cup of coffee, getting it ready just how you like it before making his own.
He slides the cup toward you across the table with a small, almost habitual motion—one that feels oddly familiar despite everything that’s happened between you.
You blow gently at the whiffs of steam curling around and disappearing into thin air.
“Thanks.”
You sit across from each other again, the table between you small enough that you could easily reach across it if either of you tried. You noticed the way Kento’s hand twitched when your hand rested against the side of the table, almost reaching out before holding himself back.
There's two matching croissants on your plate and his, and tension be damned, you were going to enjoy the damn food of Paris even if it's the last thing you do in this marriage.
And enjoy it you did, you groan at the first bite. A burst of sweetness and tanginess feeling like heaven on your tongue. “God, this is good.”
Nanami finally smiles, small but genuine. “They’re French,” he says. “They’d better be.”
You huff a quiet laugh before you can stop yourself, Nanami’s smile growing at finally hearing it. “Yeah, I guess so.” You answer, biting your cheek before you continue. “You should try yours, it's good.”
He nods before turning his attention to his own pastry, taking a reasonable bite before his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, it is good.”
“See?” you affirmed. “We should get another before going out today.”
Nanami finishes chewing, already eyeing the other loaves of bread and cakes displayed. “That sounds good.” he started. “The staff mentioned a few places we could sightsee today, it would be good to bring some snacks.”
“Yeah.”
It feels nice, getting to talk and open up again. As if everything was normal. The conversation flows for a little while, the itinerary for the next week or so, your preferences for each of them.
But paradise is a fleeting thing, you’ve come to learn. Nanami Kento is a busy man, and while you are one of his priorities, you aren’t the only one. His phone rings, and it cuts the conversation short.
He glares at the device, before flashing you a pained expression. “I’m sorry, I have to–”
“Go,” Your voice is cold again, a slump to the energy you no longer had. “It’s fine.”
He lets it ring for a moment more, mouth opening and closing again before he picks it up and walks away. His croissant is half eaten, getting colder by the second.
“I’ll only be a minute.”
Minute your ass, it had already been five, and then ten, and then fifteen. The room continues to buzz with life as you feel stuck in the middle of it, the only one left alone in a city made for two.
You sigh quietly, stirring the untouched coffee in your cup even though the warmth has long since faded.
Eventually, you push your chair back and stand, grabbing your cup only to set it back down again after realizing you’ve lost interest in finishing it. You did finish the croissant though.
If he’s going to be a while– and experience tells you he will be– there’s no point sitting there like some poor housewife waiting for a crumb of attention. By no means were you that pathetic, and even after all these years in that kind of marriage, you still had some self-respect to protect.
You wander toward the hotel lounge area instead, letting the noise of the breakfast room fade behind you as you move into the quieter part of the lobby. You stumble upon a narrower corridor, one leading into a hidden balcony with a beautiful view.
The street below is already alive with the gentle bustle of the morning. People walking with paper cups of coffee, bicycles gliding past, the distant clatter of dishes from a nearby cafe preparing for the day.
You step outside and rest your hands against the cool metal railing, breathing in slowly.
For a moment, the tight knot sitting in your chest loosens just enough for you to enjoy the quiet beauty of the view. Even if there was something telling you that you weren’t supposed to be enjoying it alone.
A faint sting of cigarette smoke drifts in front of your face, and your nose crinkles instantly. Smoking? This early? The bitter scent hits the back of your throat before you could get any semblance of where it was coming from, and you cough as you step back from the railing.
You wave a hand in front of your face, glancing around until you meet someone else’s eyes.
A man stands a few feet away near the far corner of the balcony, leaning casually against the rail with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. He hadn’t made much noise when you walked out, and in your distraction you’d somehow missed him entirely.
“Oh.” His brows lift slightly as he straightens. “Sorry.” Without hesitation, he flicks the cigarette against the edge of the railing and presses it out completely, dropping the remains into a nearby ashtray.
You wave a hand lightly, still clearing your throat.
“It’s fine.”
And it is, really. The smoke fades quickly once the cigarette is gone, leaving only the faint scent of tobacco lingering in the air. The chocolate-eyed man settles back against the railing again, though now with his hands empty.
You take a few steps forward again, leaning against the railing to admire the view. Minus the cigarette smoke. You try to hold onto the calm that the landscape offers.
It lasts all of thirty seconds. Then the weight in your chest comes rushing back.
The sigh escapes before you can stop it, heavy and exhausted as you lean forward slightly against the railing. After another moment, you drag both hands up over your face and bury your forehead in your palms.
God.
What a mess you were.
Beside you, the man glances over. “Long day?”
You huff out a humorless laugh from behind your hands. “What gave it away?”
There's a twitch in his lips, a quiet scoff resting against them. “Well,” he says calmly, folding his arms against the railing beside him, “most people don’t sigh like that while standing on a balcony in Paris, of all places.”
Your hands drop to look at him, and you finally laugh for real this time. “..That’s true.”
The man hums in agreement, you never got his name, but you’d guess it was a pretty one. He was certainly not from around here, a tourist just like yourself. Tired eyes and a crisp suit, gelled hair and a well-shaped nose.
For a moment he seems like he might leave it at that. His fingers tap lightly against the railing as he looks out over the city again, expression thoughtful. “If it helps,” he clears his throat, “you and me both.”
“Ha!” You scoff, wrapping your hands behind your neck. “And it's not even noon.”
He shakes his head, offering a sheepish, almost shy smile. “Yeah.” He faces you fully now, breeze blowing through gaps and into your hair, a greeting of something new.
“Hiromi Higuruma, nice to meet you.” He straightens slightly and finally turns toward you fully, extending a hand in polite introduction.
You don’t know why you did it, maybe it was in shame or embarrassment. Maybe because you already saw something better here. But you slipped your ring off, the band resting against your palm as you took his hand with the other.
You introduce yourself in return, expecting the interaction to end there.
He's quite amusing, polite but charming, in a way. A reminder of what your husband was. But he was a little more jaded, a little more honest with the way he treated the world in front of him.
It was a nice, easy conversation for once. A literal breath of fresh air from all the strained talks you had with your husband. Husband. The word left a bitter taste in your tongue now, something that you’d rather be replaced with cigarette smoke and tobacco. Not that you’d realize it now.
Right now, it was just a stranger turned acquaintance. Someone to keep you company when the company left you for work calls.
The conversation was cut off by your name being called, and hotel doors sliding open behind the two of you.
You glance back, guilty like a criminal, in shock like a deer in headlights. “Kento?”
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working alongside and sometimes beneath hiromi was the best decision you’ve made in a very long time.
the pay is great; he’s nice and handles everything. the only thing you have to do is pretend you’re doing something productive, which isn’t hard.
the only thing you weren’t expecting was to be filling in the role of a submissive.
“don’t worry, i'll do all the thinking for you. all you have to do is listen.”
this meant walking around with your arms behind your back tied with a spare tie he had in his drawer with a few pieces of paper stapled together hanging loosely from your mouth walking into his office for the daily delivery.
he introduced the idea so casually that you said yes just as fast as the proposal came, not knowing everything that came with it.
meaning he would tell you what to eat, how to dress, and what things to say, on and off the clock.
the normal things that come with employment.
not knowing the side of his gravel with his initials engraved into it has been made into the perfect paddle.
for hiromi, the sexual dynamic wasn't an everyday thing, and he preferred it that way because you’re way too distracting, and he would go broke if he were fucking you every day.
it only happened when he would get in his moods; that’s when he became more assertive and dominant.
the trigger would be a bad case or you just falling through on everything he told you to do.
he would be lying if he said he hated punishing you, hated tying your wrists together and sliding his gavel in between your legs, running it over your slick folds, because he didn’t.
he loves punishing you and loves watching you struggle through your spankings.
you brought balance to his life like no other.
sometimes he got a great secretary; the other times he got the perfect submissive, and there is power in that because he knows no one else will be able to do as great a job as you.
hiromi looks up from the stack of paper he's been working on all day, watching as the door slowly creaks open, revealing you on all fours, crawling with a pen in your mouth.
your movements are slow and sensual, softly swaying your hips, making your skirt rise little by little, revealing you’re wearing no panties.
“look at that; it looks like my message was well received then.”
his voice strains against each word, anxiously tapping his finger against his desk while his face progressively gets redder.
hiromi always has control in these situations, but he couldn’t help but get nervous when you come in doing exactly what he says, looking as sexy as you do.
two mintues ago he sent a message telling you to bring him a pen; you never failed to outdo him at his own game.
crawling in between his legs and dropping the pen from your mouth onto his crotch, making his stiff dick push against the tight fabric of his pants.
hiromi pats your head and softly cups your chin; his touches are always laced with affection.
“thank you, you’re the sweetest thing. i hate to ask you this right after, but can you shine my shoes?”
slowly sliding his foot in between your thighs, and you immediately sit on it, rolling your hips against the surface.
he slides his thumb from your chin to your lips, softly pressing against them to get you to open your mouth, which you do, and he slides his thumb in.
moaning when he feels your warm and wet tongue slide against the surface.
he couldn’t even try to be in control anymore, his eyes fluttering close, feeling the weight of you on his shoe while you grind back and forth, and the feeling of your mouth on his thumb was way too distracting.
his shoes were shined with your slick by the time you got off… literally.
this was just a tame day; if you were to do anything else, he would be the shade of a tomato and have no plans to finish his work.
♡ Pranking Higuruma by wearing a bad tasting lipgloss
Higuruma was a serious man. He woke up, went to work, came home and slept. It was only until he met you that his life brightened, evenings filled with laughter and joy instead of the suffocating silence he endured for years.
However, the joy you spread was also paired with a handful of trouble. Little jokes here and there that caused the adorable giggle he loved to echo through the house, eyes creasing with happiness as you’d lean against him after revealing your mischievous plans.
This time, he was unable to figure out that what you were doing was a prank, so unfortunately for him it continued on for days. The first day rolled around and you applied a new lipgloss you’d brought, except you’d added some peculiar ingredients to it that made it taste awful. You’d easily be able to deal with it to see Higuruma’s reaction.
“Hiro!” You call from your vanity, watching your husband approach from behind in the mirror, neat black suit and tie layered perfectly over his body. He leans down over you, tilting your head back. “I bought a new lipgloss, isn’t the colour so nice?”
“Very pretty, darling,” he hums in agreement, leaning down and pressing his daily morning kiss against your lips before leaving for work. You expect a reaction, maybe even a twitch of his eyebrows, but he remains fully stoic as he pulls away and says goodbye.
Mission failed. For now.
When he comes home, you apply another thick layer of the gloss, greeting him with a big smooch at the front door. His hand slides around your waist steadily, peppering a few cheek kisses onto you as he slips off his shoes. Yet, still no reaction.
Later in the night, when you kiss him goodnight, he says nothing. Hell, you begin wondering if maybe he doesn’t have taste buds. Was it something he just never told you?
Unfortunately for you, you had to wear it again the next day. The taste was revolting and you didn’t know how long you could keep up the act. Once again, he gave you a kiss goodbye, a kiss at the door when he returned, and a kiss goodnight.
You had rolled over for ten seconds before you swung around to face him again. “Do you have any medical conditions?”
He opens his eyes and glances over. “None that i’m aware of, darling. Why do you ask?”
“…No reason,” you mumble. Silence drags on for another 20 seconds. “So you do have taste buds?”
His eyes flutter open again. “Are you trying to secretly ask me if i’ve noticed your new lipgloss’ taste?”
“Maybe.”
“You made it taste bad, didn’t you?”
You roll over onto him, laughing at his blank expression. “How did you not make a face once? It tasted awful!”
“Because you liked it so much. I would’ve survived the taste if it meant you were happy.”
You teasingly glare at him. “Don’t get all romantic and mushy! It was meant to be a prank.”
“Haha,” he comments dryly, successfully provoking you even more as you push his shoulder, finally eliciting a laugh from him.
h. higuruma struggles to find condoms his size . . 18+
hiromi stands in the aisle of the late-night pharmacy, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, open for access 24/7.
the shelf in front of him is stocked with every size the store carries— small, regular, large, even the so-called “magnum” packs that promise extra room. he’s already torn open two different boxes in the last month, tried them on in the dim light of his bathroom, and watched the latex stretch thin and tight across the thick head of his cock before it started to roll back or tear at the base.
neither felt safe. neither felt right.
he’s not vain about it. never has been. but the reality is inconvenient as hell. he’s pushing forty soon, still hard more nights than not, still wakes up aching with morning wood that demands attention, still finds himself gripping the shower wall while he strokes himself slow and deliberate because the need never really quiets down.
hiromi likes sex. needs it, really rough if you will. slow, drawn-out sessions that leave both him and you wrecked. and he likes coming inside, deep, feeling the way a body clenches around him when he fills it up. condoms are non-negotiable, though. he’s careful. always has been.
but the standard large barely covers half his length before it starts constricting like a rubber band. the magnums give him maybe an extra inch of breathing room at the head, but the shaft still feels strangled, the ring digging in until it leaves faint red marks that sting for hours after. he’s jerked off into too many of them just to test, watching the tip balloon out while the middle stays painfully tight, until he gave up and came on his stomach instead, frustrated and half-hard even after.
tonight he grabs the biggest pack they have anyway—black wrapper, gold lettering, “extra large” in bold like it’s supposed to be impressive. he pays in cash, no eye contact with the bored cashier, and walks the three blocks back to his apartment with the bag swinging against his thigh.
door locked, lights low, he strips down in the bedroom without ceremony. sits on the edge of the mattress, thighs spread, cock already thickening from the anticipation of relief. he tears the foil with his teeth, rolls the condom down slow and careful. the latex stretches over the swollen head, flares wide, then fights him the rest of the way. by the time he reaches the base it’s so tight he can see the veins standing out sharper under the thin barrier, feel the pulse restricted just enough to make every throb ache a little more.
he wraps a hand around himself, tests a single stroke. the drag is wrong—too much friction at the root, not enough give at the crown. he hisses through his teeth, low and irritated. pumps again, harder, chasing some kind of satisfaction, but the constriction only makes him leak more, precum beading at the tip and pooling inside the reservoir until it looks obscene.
he imagines someone else’s mouth instead.
warm, wet, no barriers. imagines sinking in deep until his hips meet soft skin, no rubber choking him, just heat and slick and the way a throat would flutter around his girth. his hand speeds up, rougher now, twisting at the head where the condom bunches awkwardly. his abs tighten, breath coming shorter. he’s close already, embarrassingly fast, because the pressure is too much and not enough all at once.
when he comes it’s with a choked grunt, hips jerking up into his fist. thick ropes spill into the tip, stretching the latex even further until it sags heavy and full. he milks himself through the aftershocks, slow pulls that make his thighs shake, until he’s spent and softening inside the too-small prison.
he peels it off carefully, ties it off, tosses it in the trash. stares at the mess on his palm, the faint red line still circling the base of his cock like a brand. his breathing evens out, but the frustration lingers, sharp and familiar.
he’ll order custom ones online tomorrow. again. because jerking off alone gets old, and he’s tired of settling for half-measures when all he wants is to bury himself deep in someone willing and feel every inch without anything holding him back, without getting one pregnant.
summary. Ever since marrying Hiromi Higuruma, your poor pussy has never known peace. He's always gotta be on his knees begging for a bit of you, a taste, a lick, maybe even a goddamn sniff if you’d let him. And you do,
if he works for it, of course.
tags. oral (f!receiving), untouched orgasm(m), begging, sub higuruma, semi-public sex, thighfucking, creampie, prone bone, using hiromi's tie like a leash, p in v, breeding themes, belly bulge, NOT PROOFREAD - i finished this about 10 minutes before posting. i mean it.
AN. My piece for @cherrys-wrld pussywhipped event! Enjoy 2k words of delicious filth!
7:32 AM - BREAKFAST
You can never get anything done when Higuruma’s home. Sure, you’re always thankful for his presence and him finally taking a break from work, but there are chores to be done! And you’re pretty sure that you can’t get anything done when your husband is nose-deep in your soft cunt, licking up your leaking juices as your sensitive bud rubs up against his angled nose.
“Please, baby-” He murmurs, warm breath sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. “Please cum for me.”
Slick traces against his chin, dripping down onto the hardwood floor as you keep yourself braced against the counter. Lest your shaking legs give out. “I don’t know- hn,” you bite back a moan with a grin, “-do you deserve it?”
He groans at that, eager to show you just how well he can do to earn your sweet nectar. His tongue traces patterns quickly against your cunt, hands gripping and rubbing your aching legs.
Breakfast seems to be on hold (for you, Hiromi is having his right now.), as you try and fail to muster up the strength to pry your insatiable husband from your no-doubt messy hole. The same one he had filled to the brim the night prior, accompanied by the myriad of lovebites and hickeys splattered all over your skin like a lovesick painting.
Well, you weren’t complaining. But you were still going to make him work for it.
His tongue pushes up against your opening, and you can’t do anything to stop the breathy moan escaping your pretty lips. Hiromi seems very pleased at that, giving your clit a soft kiss before finally, finally taking a breath.
You look down at him, pouting at the pussy-drunk smile on his face as he leans his cheek against your thigh, a thumb gently tracing circles on your clit.
“Tired already?” you tease, head tilting to the side as you try to downplay the heave of your chest against the fabric of your shirt.
“Hm, me?” he hums, ignoring the way his thick cock twitched against his abdomen, begging for attention. “When it comes to you, no, never.”
You yelp as he licks up your cunt, nose grinding against your clit as you instinctively grind down for more. His eyes light up with a smile before you pull at his hair, shoving him further into your pussy.
His tongue continues to lap at your cunt, desperate and practically pleading against your lips as his hips mindlessly twitch and thrust into the air. Hiromi’s hands stay planted on your hips however, hoping to somehow pull you further on his tongue.
Each move of his tongue inside of you has bolts of pleasure zapping up your spine, warmth coiling up quickly against your belly. Every lewd and echoing sluuurp! And moan reverberating against your cunt pushing you closer and closer to that edge.
“Fuck– ‘romi–” you gasp in between moans, beads of slick running down your thighs before Hiromi could lick it all up.
With a final nudge of his nose against your cunt, that coil inside of you snaps, and you could feel nothing but the blank white of pleasure wash over you. Your legs give out, but Hiromi is luckily there to catch you with his face and stabilize you with his pretty hands.
His brow is furrowed in concentration, as if he was trying to memorize the fluttering of your pussy against his tongue and imbed it into his memory for all time.
When you finally catch a breath from your god-seeing orgasm, you couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the sight below you. Hiromi was breathing hard, the floor and his stomach painted white in his own untouched orgasm.
“Aww,” you coo, giggling at the way he groans when you push against his thick cock with your foot. “That feel good for you, baby?”
“Yes, yes– thankyou.” Hiromi groans, taking the pleasure and pain of overstimulation like the good husband he is. He places quick kisses against your waist and your thighs, licking any stray droplet of your nectar. All the while he continues to twitch against you.
God, and it was only breakfast.
1:02 PM - LUNCH
To think that you’d be able to get away with trying to show off some new clothes to Hiromi, while actively teasing the fact you’d worn nothing underneath, scot-free just because the two of you were in public, then you were a fool.
Now, here you were, brain fuzzy as Hiromi held you against his chest, sweat and cum sticking your thighs together as his cockhead pushes back and forth through the soft muscles.
All because you were too stubborn about his cum leaking out of you later.
“Darling,” his precum smeared against the inside of your thighs, mixing with your sweet slick. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Just please–” he pleaded, deep voice cracking juuust a tinge as you tightened your legs around his leaking dick.
You tut at him, holding the power despite how his frame completely shadowed yours. “We both know you’d never pull out.” You roll your eyes, shuddering as his tip kisses your clit in a mushy mix of arousal and sex. “Unless you wanna use a condom–”
“No,” his answer comes fast, in time with his quickening pace, as if fighting off the idea with each slam of his fat cock into your thighsleeve. “No, not the condom, jus’ want you raw,” He talks about the thin plastic as if it were the greatest punishment of all, a barrier preventing him from feeling the spongy wet walls of your pussy.
“Then you better cum before we get caught.” You moaned, before gasping at his hand on your clit, rubbing circles as your juices coat his fingers in a pretty white sheen.
“Together,” he bargained, thighs slapping against yours with loud plaps! that it was a miracle that you two weren't found out yet. “Please, cum with me,”
Warmth starts quickly building in your abdomen, with every drag of Hiromi’s cock against your folds and his fingers skillfully massaging your clit, it wasn’t long before Hiromi was kissing your shoulders and moaning your name against soft skin. You weren’t that far off, either.
His groans and breathing was heavy against the shell of your ear, trying so hard to stay quiet despite the perfect way your thighs felt around him, despite how he could just imagine how good it would feel to bury his cock into you just before he came… spilling his seed deep into you and pumping your velvety walls full of him.
But he’ll be good for you, so good. You have to reward him later right?
The thought itself has him twitching, groaning as his hips slam into yours like a man starved of your pretty pussy. As he technically was.
Your thighs shake around him, feeling your orgasm creep up quickly as you look up at him in the changing room mirror. His gaze was heavy, lips parted that had been groaning and cursing so beautifully for you.
You bit your lip. “Fuck, you’re so perfect like this, Hiromi,” you had gasped with a surprising amount of clarity.
It made Hiromi’s cock twitch violently against you, an angry red staining the tip in its desperation to finally cum. There was a long moan he had to muffle in the crook of your neck, splurts of cum painting the mirror you were leaned up against before the rest leaked down his shaft and onto your thighs.
The sight had you clenching around nothing, your pussy throbbing in hot flashes of white pleasure that radiated throughout your entire lower body.
You scolded Hiromi a little bit after, telling him to control himself, especially in public. He nodded, ashamed. But you made sure not to scold him too hard, unless you wanted him hard. Again.
7:42 PM - DINNER
You're pinned to the wall as soon as you two get back home, Hiromi’s thigh is pressed up against your clothed cunt as he nearly stumbles over himself to take his suit off. A giggle makes it way to your already-swollen lips as Hiromi practically acts like a dog in rut for your touch.
He moans against your mouth at the sound of your laugh, shuddering as your hands trail across his ribcage, his back and trace thin patterns into the back of his neck.
“Love you so much,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “Love her so much,” his hand makes its way under your clothes to cup your warm heat, still a bit sticky from earlier lunch. “So perfect.” Another hand reaches up to his tie, nearly tugging it off before a hand catches his.
“Wait,” you interrupt, stopping the way your hips grind down into the soft pads of his fingers against your hole. “Keep it on.” Your smile is sickly sweet as he pauses, curiosity, arousal and trust swirling in those pretty hazel eyes.
Any hesitation is wiped however, once you two reach the bedroom.
“F-fuck–” Hiromi hissed, brows furrowing as you tugged him forward with his makeshift leash. Strong hips slam into the soft flesh of your ass, a lovedrunk pace as he desperately worked for your praise.
“Mmmngh!” Came your pleased moans, muffled against the pillows.
You were lying prone bone as Hiromi fucked into your tight cunt with your guidance, pulling at his tie with every order that he follows like law.
The bedframe was slamming against the wall, a loud banging sound accompanying the cacophony of moans and lewd squelching that came from the mushy walls of your insides, already filled to the brim with cum.
Hiromi’s seed mixed like an obscene drug with your slick, trailing down the walls of your pussy and onto the crumpled sheets.
It was clearly not enough for either of you, not with the way you were demanding for more, or the way Hiromi was eager to give it.
“Just like that ‘romi–” You choked out, eyes fluttering, fighting the urge to roll back and just take it. “S-so fucking good,”
The two of you looked utterly fucked in the best way possible, the usually serious lawyer reduced to a sweaty and desperate mess, wearing nothing but a black tie to keep him in his place. He could barely speak past the call of your name or curses under his breath.
“All for you,” he was rambling, forehead resting against the side of your head. “Just for you–”
Your body sinched like a vice again, shaking as another orgasm fluttered to your core and nearly mushed your head into a satisfied puddle. A long moan ripped out of your throat, drool dripping onto your pillows that were definitely still stained from last night too.
In your orgasm-induced haze, you had pulled Hiromi forward, shallow thrusts into your pussy that had him tearing up in desperation to keep you full. His cock kissed your insides with quick thrusts, your belly just barely bulging above your belly button in an attempt to make room for his massive cock.
“Can I– Let me please–” he begged, cock twitching as your walls eagerly tried to pull out another thick load from the thick shaft.
“Go on,” you murmured, nearly boneless from absolute bliss. “Cum for me, Hiromi,”
His load spilled into your, the white substance coating every inch of your insides before leaking out and making a creamy ring around Hiromi’s cock. The warmth spread across you, making your walls pulse again in time with every splurt of cum being fucked into you.
Hiromi’s thrusts didn’t cease as he continued to fuck into you, gritting his teeth as he made sure he was so deep in you. So deep in your guts that he wouldn't ever need anything else but you, your touch, and your praise.
When every last drop was milked out of him by your cunt, he had finally slumped against you, pressing pussy-drunk kisses against your back.
Hiromi could feel himself shiver at your voice, showering him in praise before either of you had the inkling to move and clean up for tomorrow.
