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@naunami's backup account

[glamoursize]

is there anyway to read the tapes from all the men I’ve fucked before other from your last post??I tried clicking on it and it shows that is not there anymore.i hope I don’t come off as rude I just really wanted to read the epilogue

responding to this so late, but you can go to @cuckento. all of the tapes are on there.

[naunami-deactivated20251228]

to all the men i've fucked before ノ jjk mini-series [interactive].

after their sex tape was leaked, you faced a lot of scrutiny under the public eye. however, you did what not many expected from you─made an entire album based on them.

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⭑ content .ᐟ characters unknown & popstar/borderline pornstar!reader, heavy smut, dark content, smau & written portions, celebrity!au, sex tape leak, slut shaming, twitter incel activity, doxxing, each chapter will have their own warnings, etc.

important notes. each sex tape will contain a transcript (smut) & not all of them will be suitable for the average viewer consumption. please be cautious while consuming this series.

⭑ PROLOGUE & PROFILES.

SEX TAPE #1 ⋮ SEX TAPE #2 ⋮ SEX TAPE #3 ⋮ SEX TAPE #4 ⋮ SEX TAPE #5

⭑ EPILOGUE

⌗ ALBUM PRE-ORDER INSTRUCTIONS [ taglist form ]

⭑ naunamix credits. thank you @hikentomori for beta reading this series for me because i am never sure of myself.

[glamoursize]

⭑ husband!gojo decides to start family planning balls deep inside of you.

"what do you say, hm?" gojo asks. "blue walls or mint green?"

he asks you this while drilling into you relentlessly, watching how your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and you can barely utter a coherent word. your hands are clawing at his back, your nail prints embedded into his skin with a rouge color. you're trying your best to listen to your dear husband, excited to get your pregnant, but fuck, it's too hard to concentrate with him battering your pussy with such need.

"c'mon, baby," he chuckles. it's smooth and deep, vibrating off of his chest and sending a shiver down his spine as his chest touches yours. white hairs tickling your forehead, he plants kisses at the corner of your lips. "what do you want out first child’s room color to be?"

"i—gojo, fuck!" you cry. "i can't!"

"fine, i'll choose for you," he starts to hum, hips stilling deep inside of you, kissing your cervix deliciously. you squeal, nails digging deeper into his skin. gojo’s grip on your hips tighten in response. index finger planted on his bottom lip, he gnaws down gently on it before his blue eyes flicker down to yours teasingly.

"if we do blue, then it'd match my eyes," he voices. "but, i always did find mint green pretty…"

"you're so…" some of the lust-induced haze flitters out of your brain, enough to chastise your husband. "damn annoying."

gojo smiles, nudging you playfully. "don't be like that. you said you wanted to be a mommy. right now, i'm family planning."

"let's do that when you're not balls deep in me," you say, jutting your hips up. "i wanna fuckin' cum."

"ooh," he grins, a light bulb sparking in his mind. "if you cream around my cock, the room's blue. if you squirt, green."

"as long as it gets you to shut up," you gasp when he pulls out his length completely, a whine falling from your lips.

"i have other ideas for that."

[glamoursize]

flashing lights ノ clark kent

journalism has always been clark's strongsuit, truly believing that with whatever category, he will excel in. except, the gossip column.

when cat grant asks him for a favor, clark finds himself both regretting his choice, but also finding the good in it. despite his choices being far from it.

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⭑ content .ᐟ stalker!clark kent & celebrity!reader, canon-aligning, dark content, smut, predominantly clark's perspective, sub!clark kent, stalking, obsession, leaked sex tape [reader kinda sorta has a kim kardashian brought up to fame], masturbation, dry humping/leg humping, cock stepping, cumshot, cunnilingus, cum eating, slight puppy play, alluded hyperspermia, etc. [ 𝜗ৎ 10.1k words ! ]

ㆍ naunamix notes. this might seem out of character for some characters. it was just to further the plot along. this is my first fic for clark. so please, feel free to comment down your thoughts. mwah !

"Seems like you've been demoted," Jimmy snickers, backing up in his swivel chair to look over Clark's broad shoulders. "From interviewing Superman to writing celebrity gossip? Pfft."

Clark shrugs, "I wouldn't consider it a demotion… Cat's just absent, and she asked me to help her with her article."

"Oh, yeah," Lois snorts, getting up to mimic a platinum blonde with large glasses. Twirling her hair and batting her lashes, her voice lowers as she goes, "'Oh, Clark. I'm not going to be here, so can you please cover my article for me?' Y'know she likes you, right?"

Glancing up from his laptop, Clark ignores both the poor reenactment of Cat, and the comment of her feelings for him. He continues typing away, though he's not making it very far.

"What's she even out for?" Jimmy inquires, spinning around his seat, flicking his pencil around. "Did she even say why?"

"Why'd you want to know?" Lois curls an eyebrow, nudging the man nearly out of his seat as she walks back towards her cubicle. Meanwhile, Clark's phone starts vibrating. Messages from the aforementioned woman as she doubles texts. She must've sensed Clark's struggle to even begin because her first message reads: I forgot to send you my notes on the article about [Y/N].

"Just curious," Jimmy shrugs. "She's absent a lot, and I'm wondering if buddy boy over here knows what's up this time—"

As the two bicker, Clark tunes them out, focusing on the thread of texts that Cat's sending back to back. Notes upon notes, or moreso, the amalgamation of every thought Cat Grant has about the celebrity, [Y/N]. As three dots continue to bounce, Clark's only furrowing his eyebrows even more, creating a unibrow as his confusion even goes from there. Lois and Jimmy are both ignored as he lets out a groan the moment Cat concludes her ramblings. He types a quick 'Thank you' before dropping his phone down on the countertop and he’s typing the Cat-curated title on his screen, Sex Magnet turned Model: What Does [Y/N] Bring to the Table?

"Oh, that's perfect," Jimmy chortles, looking over Clark's shoulders. The burly man feels uneasy at it, body tensing up as he starts the first paragraph. Glancing at the computer screen, Lois's eyes widened. While Jimmy hunches over in pain, the barely concealed 'Ouh' leaving his lips, Lois presses her lips in a thin line. "Are you sure this is the direction you want to go for?"

Clark shrugs, a deep sigh bellowing from his chest. It's all in his body language— tension in the shoulders, stiffness in his fingers, reddening ears. This is unlike his character. "It's what Cat wants?"

"I can write it for you—"

"No, no," Clark shakes his head. "I'm fine. Cat asked me to do this favor, and I'll do it."

"O–Kay," Lois hesitates, looking at the back of Clark's head until he swivels around in his chair, giving her a curt nod. He repeats to himself, "I'm fine."

He's trying to convince himself more than Lois. And, despite knowing he's not, she knows the man won't budge. Again, she says, "Okay," before turning her back and finally heading to her seat. Finally, Clark stops tapping away at the keys and his shoulders relax. Blowing out a large breath, Clark slumps in his chair, ultimately telling himself: "This is the first and last time I'll ever write one of Cat's articles for her."

He really should've accepted Lois's offer to write the article for him. It took him longer than necessary to write the article, even though he had the notes alongside him, his phone propped up against the monitor, eyes flickering from the small screen to the larger screen every few seconds. He was typing away ferociously, but always backspaced and deleted a few paragraphs every time, just trying to find a nicer way to get Cat's point across.

However, at the end of the day, when it was nearing the end of his shift, he wasn't proud of the collection of words. No matter how he would slice and dice it, nothing was going to make him like it. So, in a scurry the moment he had tied in Cat's last note, he was quick to save it, and jumped out of his seat. It was like he was inhaling a breath of fresh air the moment he switched off the devices.

Lois snorted, trailing after the man. "Had fun?"

"You already know the answer to that," Clark said before speeding off, shrugging off the suit jacket. And despite his misery, he still turned around to bid her farewell. Two fingers in a salute and a kind smile on his face, he says, "Have a good evening."

The moment he gets home, he undoes the first two buttons of his shirt and falls onto the couch. Stripping of his glasses and running his fingers through his curls, he goes through the process of unwinding. It's funny—he's able to take a hefty punch of whatever alien attacks Metropolis, having the endurance of more than thousands of men, yet an article has him so worn out. Never again is the only thing he finds himself mentally repeating thinking back to it.

Journalism was a tedious job, but it was always something that came natural to him. A gossip column shouldn't have him feeling so worked up. Mmm, Mmm, Mmm… The rhythmic vibrations of his cell phones has him opening his eyes, reaching for it from the coffee table and looking at his notifications. Speaking of the, uh, aforementioned.

Cat Grant: thx Clark for doing me that favor. last thing, can you send it to me, so that i can look it over???

Clark didn't think too much of it when he responded with an 'Okay.' Later on, reaching for his laptop and sending her his copy of the draft before he turned his complete attention away from it, leaving his phone as he ventured into his bedroom.

Later that night, Clark left his phone, leaving his day job for the night shift when Cat messages again: thx again for doing the brunt of the work, Clark. made a few changes, but you did amazing!!

Sex Magnet turned Famous Influencer: What Does [Y/N] Bring to the Table?

By Cat Grant & Clark Kent | Saturday, November 1, 2025 | 12:30 PM

Everyone knows how [Y/N] started out—spending any time she could, getting wasted in clubs and sleeping around with men that had a price tag to their name. One leaked sex tape made her an infamous star. But, all stars dwindle down and die at some point. What—or, who—is keeping [Y/N] an important name on news screens? Read more…

@/metropolis-star : @/dailyplanet sets women back after reporters, Cat Grant & Clark Kent, spark conversation on popular influencer, [Y/N]'s relevance. After bringing up her past, they deduce [Y/N] to a 's*x magnet' who should have no redemption arc… Wow, you wouldn't find that at Metropolis Star.

@/user89kavi77 replying to @/metropolis-star: but… they kind of have a point?? [Y/N]'s nothing but a whore, leeching off the fame from the s*x tape. @/scumguzzler replying to @/user89kavi77: yeah, she should've made an OF instead of a Youtube channel tho. Could've made more money. @/janabanana replying to @/scumguzzler and @/user89kavi77: just say neither of you get any bitches @/katiapride replying to @/janabanana: you referring to women as 'bitches' wasn't the power move you thought it was… @/katiapride replying to @/metropolis-star: hate how ppl always pin the blame on the woman instead of the man. WHAT ABT [male celebrity]??? @/j0rdan_ replying to @/katiapride: what about him? he just revealed another desperate slut lmao

[Show more replies]

"I did not say any of that in my draft," Clark frets, as Lois keeps typing away, letting the man vent out his frustrations. The brunette would nod, and hum her acknowledgements as she would type away. It was his turn to be a distraction for her at work, she accepted that with open arms. Though, Lois was trying to be understanding. "I don't know how she twisted everything I said. It's like she practically rewrote the entire thing."

"Hey," Lois tries being optimistic. "At least, your name's on it. You're getting some sort of credit for whatever contribution."

Pouting, Clark's shoulders slouch. "That's the problem. The article makes me seem like a completely bad person."

"Well," Lois slows her typing. "You're not, and any reasonable person reading that article can tell it wasn't you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"For one," Lois spins around in her swivel chair, wearing a pantsuit, she manspreads, fingers pressed together as she presses her eyebrows together. "Your name's been associated with Superman. That's all that anyone is going to know you for—the man that interviews Metropolis's greatest hero."

Clark can't help the ghost of a smile that cascades his lips as he listens to Lois trying to calm down the situation. "Plus, it's an outlier—one article outside of your comfort zone isn't going to tarnish people's perception about you."

"Yeah…" he trails off, becoming more level-headed now that he's vented out some of his frustrations. Shoulders relaxing, he fixes his posture. The swivel chair cries when he stands up. "You're right—You're right. Thanks for the talk."

"No problem," Lois hums. "Just don't talk to me for the rest of it."

He chuckles, nodding and heading back to his station. Sinking into his seat, he feels a bit more at ease as leans back in his chair. Glasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose, and blue eyes trained on the screen, the first five minutes of writing puts him at ease until his phone vibrates. It's a message from Cat. With a heavy sigh, Clark shuts his eyes. I probably shouldn't open this.

He opens it. Heyyy, Clark. Ive another favor to ask you. Don't worry. You won't have to write another article.

▬▬

This time, Clark makes sure to do extraneous research on you before going in blind. It's what he should have done in the first place because he finds himself learning quite a bit. While Cat was correct on how your career took off, he wouldn't say you're famous for nothing. Prior to misfortunate events, you had always aspired to be someone who influences the world.

Watching quick clips of your videos, you seemed so vibrant and alive. Seems, that is. As he progresses, he can see a flicker—your light dimming as your soft voice becomes dull. A part of you seemed to have died at some point, and Clark's sure he has an idea why.

With a bunch of cards in hand, he shuffles through them, memorizing each question he's collected and what Cat has given him. However, he already has set in his mind that he's going to completely disregard them all after reading the content. This might’ve been yet another favor, but he won't have guilt eating at him again.

When the subway stops, announcing the Avenue he's supposed to step off on, he jumps to his feet, nearly dropping a few cards as he pushes through the people. He follows the crowd heading in the direction he needs to go, trying to be gentle as he cuts through the large number of people. Checking his watch, he still has thirty minutes until he's supposed to arrive, and you another thirty so that everything can be set up. Yet, he pushes through as if he were in a rush because if he goes at their pace, he's bound to be late.

The hotel he arrives at, where you've agreed to meet, is luxurious. A gorgeous sight to behold the moment he steps in front and inside. The architecture and interior design reminds Clark the beauty of humanity as they're able to conjure up so many things with their minds, wondering what it would have been like if it were his hometown. Did they have beautiful architecture like this?

The clerk at the front desk greets him. A woman in a baby blue shirt with a darker vest pulled over it and a navy blue skirt to match it greets him with a hearty smile, eyes beaming just as brightly as her lips. "Welcome to the Hidden Key. How may I help you today?"

"Uh," he starts, "I've got an interview with [Y/N]. My name's Clark Kent. I've got my ID right—"Reaching for his wallet, he slides out the plastic card and slips it into the woman's hand"—here."

"Oh," she hums. The clerk bites down on her bottom lip as she grabs a hold of it, vaguely remembering her manager notifying her of his arrival. Checking it before reaching for the mouse, she glances between it and the monitor before looking back up at him. When the information finally loads and she has complete confirmation, she smiles cheerfully. "Everything's all set now! Head down this hallway and on your right, you should see a plaque pointing to Banquet 1. There'll be a door immediately on your left. They should be setting up there."

You're prettier in person, Clark thinks to himself the moment you sit down from across from him. With a strong posture, you sit back straight in your seat as you're going through your phone. "Sorry," you apologize, the screen light glowing against your face as you type. Just as quickly as you pulled it out, the device is soon shoved back into your pocket before directing your attention back on him. "Now we can get started."

"Ah, right," he hums with a tight-lipped smile. With his recorder, he sets it on the table and turns it on. "I'm really grateful that you agreed to do this interview with me. I'm Clark Kent, by the way."

You accept his waiting hand, immediately engulfed in the warmth he provides as he gives you such a kind-hearted smile. The name's familiar, and it's not because of the article he co-wrote about you. "Of course," you smile. "I'd love to be interviewed by the man who interviews Superman."

"Oh," his face heats up, cheeks turning into a red hue. "I, um… Thank you."

Your smile only widens as you tell him 'you're welcome.' "Anyway, let's get started, shall we? I don't want to take up too much of your time."

Clark finds himself slouched back in the chair, listening to you talk and ramble forth upon each question, often diverging away and only sparking more questions in his mind. You have a lure to you, having him captivated in everything that you have to say. What Cat had wrote about you was completely wrong. Where you might not have had the greatest start to how your career exponentially grew after your ordeal, but you did turn it around in your favor and showed people what you were really about.

While some might call it a hoax and say that it's only a personality you created to get people in your favor, he can hear the way your heart beat picks up when you start getting more passionate. He can hear the quiet breath and sighs you let out, before transitioning to something else. You're very expressive, speaking with your hands and eyes brightening as the conversation picks up. He finds himself completely enamoured with you by how easily the two of you are able to talk to one another.

You should feel some shame with how you keep babbling on and on for almost each question he has. However, you didn't quite expect it to go in your favor the way it is. After reading the most recent article about yourself from the Daily Planet, seeing his name alongside Cat Grant's, you thought this was going to turn out into something catty in hopes to further tarnish your name in the media.

You shouldn't have accepted this interview. Your manager originally advised against it, but Cat Grant was a person that you finally wanted to look in the eyes and you wanted to use this opportunity to do so, letting her know that she couldn't get to you.

But, Clark was nice eye candy to look at, and having done some quick research yourself, he had the reputation of being the only journalist to interview Superman. What was he doing co-writing an article on celebrity gossip?

Sitting in front of him, watching how he adjusts his glasses every so often, and how he beams up to ask you another question after you bring up something else. Often, the two of you had gotten sidetracked, having to pull each other back to the center and main point of the conversation—this is an interview.

Neither of you realize that you've exceeded the time until there's a soft knock on the door, and someone's peaking their head inside to say, "I'm sorry, but we're going to need this room in the next couple of minutes. Can this please be wrapped up shortly?"

Simultaneously, the both of you stand up, checking the time. You curse, "Shit, I'm so sorry for holding you up. I didn't mean to take over the interview."

"No, no," Clark chuckles. "You're absolutely fine. I got to learn a lot about you from it, but um—"Clearing his voice, Clark's unsure if you're going to want to answer his final question"—I do have one more question revolving around what happened on that night."

There's a small tremor in your heart beat, and you take a small step back. Clark's sure that you're going to decline. "You don't have to—"

"No, go ahead."

"What's something that you wished people knew from that night, and when the tape was released?" His voice is gentle, he watches your body relax and how the corner of your eyes brim with tears. Yet, you blink them away and look down. Reaching for your handbag, you sigh.

"I know this isn't quite answering your question, but…" Trailing off, you try your best to gather all your thoughts to give him the appropriate response to what you want to say. Exhaling, you meet his eyes once more. "I've learned that no matter how much explaining you try to do, and how much you try to show people your true intentions, people will see you how they want to see you.

"If you asked me this question a long time ago, I would've definitely had an answer, but right now, I've come to peace with transpired that night."

"Wow," Clark exhales. "Um, but it must've been hard for you to—"

"Yes," you interject. "But, it's definitely a story I want to tell now."

"Sorry," he clears his throat. "I didn't mean to get too deep into that topic."

"It's fine," you chuckle. "It's something I want to be more candid about, but now's not the time."

Starting for the direction of the door, your hand reaches for the door knob, twisting it gently before you pause. "I know the perfect person to go to when the time comes though, right?"

Clark smiles. "Right."

▬▬

Clark never quite understood how people developed parasocial relationships with their favorite celebrities. He could empathize with being starstruck, he's seen it happen to people when he's Superman. He can understand the effects of being dazzled from meeting people you admire, being so stricken with words, the only thing that could come out is a squeak—that happened to him when he met the Mighty Crabjoys in person.

However, he would never say he felt an emotional bond to people who he barely knew outside of their work. And, he wouldn't even say it now, despite the connection that he felt talking to you. How it felt seamless with every second spent with you. It was comforting not having to interview himself as Superman, or anyone else as a matter of a fact. Interviewing you didn't feel like a task to be completed, it felt natural.

On the off chance that he has enough leisure time where he isn't being Superman, or the journalist, Clark Kent, he finds himself lazing about. Usually, he'll find something to watch on whatever streaming service he has and binge watch a series that manages to catch his attention. Or, he'd grab a good book and finish it in a matter of hours. Today, he's on social media. And instead of getting annoyed by the hashtag, #supershit, he finds himself scrolling through your account.

He'd scroll and scroll, then stop, admiring the angles this photo was taken at. Then, scroll and scroll, and stop at another to see how your skin's glowing just right. If it was a reel, he would listen to every word, then listen to it again. He didn't think it was a problem until—"Is Cat making you do another article on [Y/N] again?"

"Huh?" Shutting his phone, Clark furrows his eyebrows. Shaking his head, he draws out, "Uh, no… Why?"

"I should be asking you why," Lois snorts. "You're the one scrolling through her page for the past five minutes. I thought Cat gave you another [Y/N] project by the way your eyes were glued to the screen."

"Oh," Clark's voice goes soft, realizing his mistake and trying to stop his face from heating up too much. "No, I just… I—"

Lois chuckles. "She's cute—very pretty, in fact."

"Yeah," Clark agrees before he can think properly. "Wait—"

"Hey," Lois grins. "There's no shame in it, but just don't let White catch ya, okay. You've got another Superman article to cover."

"Yeah…" he trails, spinning around in his seat, remembering what he was originally doing. Back hunched over as his thick fingers hover against the keyboard, he tries to write, but nothing will come out. He's got the title down with three paragraphs underneath it, but he's still nowhere to say what he wants. He can't even remember what the point was.

"Gosh, darn," he sighs, back falling into the seat. Shutting his eyes, the shame makes him shake in his seat as the palm of his hands press against his head, and he's reprimanding himself. "Come on, Clark. That was dumb. What are you doing?"

He tells himself he's going to get a hold of himself, but when he gets home, laying down in bed, he's back on Instagram. Scrolling and scrolling through, the screen light beating against his face when he clicks the bookmark bar, creating a collection with your name on it. He nearly saves every photo on your account before he's fast asleep.

"I want to take a shift with this account, guys." Your voice has become his morning podcast, your channel becoming something that echoes through his apartment as he gets ready for work, or before he's running off when danger is calling his name. Every chance he can get, he wants to hear the sound of your voice. All the while, he's having inner turmoil as he continues his everyday life.

Pausing your video as you're going on a rant about a book you're reading, he slides the phone off the counter. It tilts off the edge and falling to the ground, he sighs.

"This…" he trails off, holding his head down in shame. Is a problem.

▬▬

"People are getting crazier and crazier everyday," Cat sighs, shaking her head as she scrolls through her phone. Phone in one hand with an iced coffee in the next, Jimmy tilts his head as he turns in his swivel chair, "Whatchu reading?"

"Metropolis Star just posted an article about a man that brutally murdered this woman he was stalking for six years," she frowns. "Isn't that crazy?"

"Yeah…" Jimmy hums before pausing. "Wait, did you just say Metropolis Star? What're you doing reading from them?"

"Ooh," Lois joins in on the conversation, "Are you looking to get fired?"

"Did none of you hear what I said?" Cat frowns. "Crazy stalker murdered the woman he's been stalking?"

"Yikes," Lois grimaces. "How long had he been stalking her?"

"Six years."

"Six years, and nothing had been done to prevent it?" Jimmy gawks in disbelief. "What'd the police say?"

"Probably something alng the lines of 'they couldn't do anything about it'," Lois rolls her eyes. Cat nods, chewing on the straw from her iced coffee, "The article says exactly that."

Clark, listening in on the conversation, didn't say anything. A sense of guilt formed within him. Yeah, but I'd never do something like that. My… uh, like, for [Y/N] is completely normal.

▬▬

He was at the Fortress of Solitude when he found your address, convincing himself that it was just sheer curiosity when he asked Gary to search it up. "We've found it, Superman."

As they recite it to him, Clark memorizes it. Twelve lights up, "It's the home of [Y/N], where according to Wikipedia, she is a life influencer. According to their background check and further information gathered, they pose no threat to the world, but hold a rather inappropriate past. What are you looking to do with them?"

"Uh, nothing as of right now," he coughs.

"Would you like for us to send surveillance for any possible threats she might face?"

"No?" Internally groaning, he chastises himself. Clark, stop being such a weirdo. This isn't who you are. "No, there's no need to. You can close their file now."

"Okay, sir."

You have back acne. There's one in particular that Clark wants to pop for you, a blackhead that sits in the indent of your neck and shoulder. You pick and pick at it, only for it to go nowhere. He knows this because he's been flying here every night, after an imminent threat hits the city, or… just because. Every night, around ten p.m. without fail, you're standing in front of your body-length mirror gnawing on your bottom lip as you're trying to look over your shoulder, and attempting to squeeze at the blackhead. But, to no avail, with no one to your rescue (to your knowledge), it's become part of your nightly routine to pick at it.

Body draped in a towel from your shower, you'd then jump onto your bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone for ten to fifteen minutes. Clark would watch the way your leg would rise and he'd get a little peak of your pussy, glistening and moist from your recent showers. The grip of the towel would loosen up and your areolas would start saying hello as well.

Clark couldn't stop the erection that was starting to develop, and the more and more he visited, his shame would dwindle down until it became nothing. Eyes glued onto your near naked body before you're climbing off the bed finally, and he swore that you swore that someone was watching. Your eyes would land right at the window that he was watching from, and he'd call it a night.

Cheeks tinted in red as he flew away, his heart paced with adrenaline. The lust and want only spiked because of it. In bed, he'd shed himself of the loose boxers from around his waist to pool around his ankles, hand fisting his cock as his mind could only focus on you. Pretty pink lips that would fall open with lust, his chest rising and falling as he imagined what your smaller hands would feel like, palming at his cock.

He could vividly imagine your eyes pointed straight at him, the way one eyebrow quirks up higher than the next as you gnaw down on your bottom lip. He could see how your gaze would lower down to his length, and hear how your heart pounded just from the sheer size of him. Yet still, you'd eagerly keep pumping him. Your fingers would fail to touch, but it will be enough because you're enough.

And when he brings himself to euphoria, he can see it—

"Clark, fuck," you gasp, heavy ropes of cum splashing against your face. Mouth falling into an 'O', you can taste his seed hit your tongue, instinctively going to lick at the corners of your mouth. Clark pants out, apologizing profusely while he still sprays you with his seed. "Gosh, I'm so— I'm so sorry."

With white painting your face, it drips down to your clavicle and in between your breasts. When Clark looks at you, his lust-induced haze dissipating gradually, he can't help but get hard again. You look so pretty like this, covered in his cum and still holding onto his cock as if you can't let go. You giggle, eager eyes staring playfully at him as you dip down to lick the tip of his length. The pink muscle flickers before you say, "No, you're not."

And whenever Clark opens back his eyes, he's disappointed that it's not real, and upset with himself for having such a vivid imagination. His bedsheets are covered in a mess that he created and to sleep in it will remind him of the fact that he can't have you.

▬▬

While Clark still believes he has some semblance of control, he tells himself that there are things, where he has to draw a line at. When it comes to you, he refuses to hunt down the leaked sex tape that had been wiped off of most websites. If anyone went through the trouble of finding it, they would need to be skilled enough to know how, or find the right people to do it for them. For Clark, all he needs is the Fortress of Solitude.

Clark respects you. He respects what you do for a living, and how you're an honest person that your viewers could trust. He tracks down your purchases, your subscriptions, and your whereabouts whenever he can. When a video is uploaded, he could positively say that you didn't base your opinions on whether or not a company sent a free PR package or if you had to buy out of pocket. You live your life in truth, and it was just another aspect that Clark loves about you.

However, Clark wants to know everything about you. He wants to know you when you're in the brightest of moods, and where you are at the lowest of times. When he held that interview with you, it was evident that the sex tape was the lowest you had ever felt in your life. Your demeanor shifted though you kept such a calm tone. It was something you had accepted, but still wanted to leave in the past because of the harm it had done.

It's why he didn't want to touch it. To touch that, it would mean there was no going back, and that Clark isn't the man he believes himself to be. But, he wonders. He wonders what you look like being fucked—even if it's by another man. He wants to see your pussy being worked, and how it glistens underneath the light while it's being used. He wants to know how you'll look, so he can prepare himself for when he finally has you.

That's why he's sitting in front of the laptop screen right now, cock throbbing as his index finger hovers over the touchpad. He palms at his erection sitting inside his sweatpants, his grip tightening whenever it would throb with want. Clark's blue eyes are glued to the screen as he softly tries to coax himself from starting it.

This has gone on for too long, Clark, he's telling himself. You've got to stop doing this.

'Yes, but you've been telling me this for the longest,' he rebuttals, letting out a deep exhale. 'What's self-help if you're not going to use it for yourself?'

He fears that once he clicks play, that there will be no salvation for him. That, when he breaks this oath within himself that he's no better man than the person who uploaded the video file online in an attempt to ruin both yours and the celebrity who originally recorded it. That this understanding the two of you had made with each other will disappear, and Clark's a monster. However, his downfall already came way before this—before finding the sex tape and finding your home address. It started when he could no longer tell himself 'no,' and couldn't restrain himself from his impulses.

But, to succumb to such measures-doesn't that make him human?

He presses play, the light from the computer screen reflecting blue as he tugs the hem of his pants down. His length rising, he holds it with a soft grip as he starts chewing on his nails. Sitting in his small dining area, he feels larger than he usually does, taking up so much space when he leans back in his seat. The back of it hits against the wall as he hears the static from the video. His eyes zero in on you, the man holding you close slowly vanishing into nothing and is replaced by the kryptonian.

He glances up, eyes pointed at the camera sitting on the small hotel dresser. Blue eyes glinting in mischief before they're planted on you—this young thing that had made their way to this extravagant party. Who did you say you were again? Something, something… You wanted to become a Youtuber. He wasn't going to try and understand what you were trying to say. He couldn't care less.

You seemed like a sweet thing for him to try out—someone who he'd want to come back to. Leading you through the double doors of the banquet hall and towards the elevator, he called it a night as he waved and nodded to a few of his colleagues, throwing a wink when they eyed you in his arms.

He was charming—older. Someone who knew his stuff and had connections. When you approached him to compliment the work you had seen him in, gushing over his projects and asking questions back-to-back, you didn't expect him to show genuine interest. People always said to never meet your idols, and part of you was trying to be pessimistic, so you didn't get your hopes up. You wanted to rant and ramble, believing that he'd give you a short, curt 'thank you' before dismissing you on your way to somewhere else.

You didn't expect for the well-rounded actor to spark up further conversation, asking you about your occupation and what you hoped to achieve in life. Your eyes sparkled, and unbeknownst to you, you had fallen into his trap. Like a spider, he weaved you into his web, tucking you in so snugly that you were too comfortable to even try to fight.

You didn't complain or pull away when he kissed you in the elevator, no. You didn't shy away from his exploring hands. They lit you on fire and you felt your body tingling in the burn. Your spine shivered, mouth falling open into a small 'o', and you asked for more. When he pushed you inside of the room, directing you over to the bed, he excused himself for just a quick moment. Moving to the dresser so quickly that you missed the moment he propped up the device to record you. You didn't care enough to ask what he was doing, excitement growing into the calcium of your bones as you waited with anticipation.

Pert nipples poking through your satin dress, your elbows dig into the covered mattress as he starts to kneel onto the bed. One last look back at the camera before his eyes and actions are devoted to you for the night. Slowly undo his tight, letting it slip down from his neck to grab your arms and tie them together. "You're fine with this, right?"

'The audacity to ask you that, but not for your permission to record?' Clark asks, his balls quivering in the cold air as the tip of his cock reddens more. Slowly, his hand is becoming not enough to satiate the hunger. He squeezes down hard, pre leaking from his urethra, his thumb ghosting over it as he bites down on his bottom lip, eyes still glued to the screen.

You nod, eyes glossing up as you fall onto your back, holding your arms out as he slips the long piece of fabric around your wrists and ties a knot. "Make sure to keep those arms up and over your head, dear."

Next, the skirt of your dress rose up to around your waist, a short pair of black spandex fitted to your hips that the older man finds adorable before revealing lacy undergarments. Eyes taking you all in, your nipples are hard and poking through the satin, and with the slipping string you call straps, he pulls it down to view your pebbled nipples being kissed by the cold air. The small flick of his finger against them has you nearly disobeying him, a tremor in your elbow as it nearly falls to your waist before going back to place. He chuckles.

His hands traveled your body as if he was trying to remember the feel of a young thing underneath him once again. Or, maybe he's had more young women under him, and loves the way they feel in comparison to him—how smooth you feel while he's starting to wrinkle; how there's still so much life left to live in comparison to him.

It's sick how maddeningly jealous Clark gets, fiercely stroking his cock as he clenches down on his teeth. His ears getting red as his blue eyes zero in on you, how your body's getting explored and used prior to him. His anger is frightening, his body starting to shiver and shake as his balls tighten while stroking his cock. However, while red consumes him, so does lust. It further spurs him on in his sickening greed. Watching you get used like that, wishing it was him instead. Wishing those arms were his holding onto your waist and nudging his clothed erection to your panty-clad cunt.

Clark wishes that he could pull those undergarments to the side and get the perfect view of your pussy before rutting against it, pressing his entire weight into you. He wishes that his cheek was against yours, holding you close when he spills inside of his trousers before getting rid of them, letting the cum-stained bottoms rest haphazardly on the edge of the bed. When the older man finally slips himself inside of you, Clark can feel himself twitch, but it's too soon.

Too soon to let go. Too soon to come to the idea of coming to you. His favorite thing about the sex tape is how vocal you are, moaning without shame and overpowering the male grunts. While your arms hang overhead, trying so hard to be obedient, your legs latch around him as you take it.

You roll your hips upwards, meeting his thrusts without rhythm and with just the need for a release. That flutter you start to feel in the pit of your stomach growing larger inside of you as tears prick the corner of your eyes, but never dare spilling. "Fuck," you curse. "'m 'bout to—"

"Hold it."

'Darn,' Clark hates to admit how hot that sounded, his cock pulsing within his touch as it stills. Throwing his head back, he shuts his eyes to recollect himself. But then you sound so whiny, crying out, "Please, I don't… think I can—ah!"

Clark lets go when you do, his release splattering onto his laptop that he'll regret later on. When you mewl out and moan on that man's cock, it has him whining as he wishes it was him making you feel that way—making you feel that good. As his cock spews out his seed, in his hazy view, he can see your fucked out face and how your eyes are in a clouded daze. When his eyes flicker to the man, he starts to morph into himself.

With his cleaner hand, Clark pauses the video. Against his abdomen, his cock rests, still hard yet he feels a bit nauseous. Guilt starts traveling its way up his body, making him shudder as he looks at the screen, pausing right at the camera capturing the perfect glimpse of you. And you're staring right at him, seemingly saying, 'I know what you're doing right now.'

Acting on impulse, he tried to push all sense of rationality away, but it has come back to bite him in the ass. In the blubbering mess of his mind, quick to reprimand him for such an invasive deep, also highlighting his past convictions, there's one consistent thought that blares loudly over the rest of voices. I told you so, I told you so, I told you so.

▬▬

It's been a month of yourself hallucinating the figure of Superman floating outside your window. Whenever she'd exit the shower and head to her bedroom, in her peripheral vision, she could always swear she saw the glimpse of red, blue and gold floating outside the window. However, whenever she finally had the courage to look, the figure would vanish and leave her questioning her sanity.

He had let her make herself believe that she was going crazy by preying outside her bedroom window. But there was one moment that he wasn't fast enough, giving her the perfect opportunity to see him flying away into the night sky. It seemed like the cartoons were true, the farther he flew, the more he looked like a star.

Heart pounding within your chest, a shiver ran down your spine as you didn't know what to make of it, finally having enough proof within yourself to deduce the fact that Superman was spying on you. Pulling the towel up higher over your chest as you stood right at your window, you suddenly feel colder as you shut your curtains closed.

It bothered you for quite some time. You barely got any sleep as you quickly became paranoid, looking over at the window to see if you'd catch him again, watching like some sick fuck. Bile pooled in the middle of your throat the more you contemplated it in the middle of the night.

You grew delirious, looking over your shoulder at the possibility that he's always been watching. Then again, the idea that you've also hallucinated him flying away came to mind. So, you wanted to test something out.

You started leaving your window open.

Though, the moment you do, it's as though he's vanished, no longer flickering within the corner of your eye whenever you look up. This goes on for a week of keeping it open, and you find yourself longing. Dressed in silk pajamas, a bonnet on your head, you stick your head out the window, peering around each corner, but to no avail. It was all a bunch of mind games.

Clark had gone two weeks without showing up outside your window. Whenever he would absentmindedly bring it up, he quickly shoots himself down. He occupies himself with helping out the 'Justice Gang' and taking on more articles that Perry leaves open. His workload is full, and he couldn't be any happier.

He thought he was getting better, more able to control his urges, but he was only burying himself in work. Because the moment he sets it down, giving himself the time to relax, his mind whirls right back to you. And his cock hardens almost immediately as every piling thought spills out in his brain.

He groans to himself, falling into the couch as shoving his face into a cushion. "Gosh!" He cries out in a guttural groan, his deep voice bellowing from deep within his chest. He feels like peeling his skin off at the ache he feels, but in his mind, he's whispering, One more time. One more time won't hurt.

You're back to locking your windows once more when you see that figure outside your window. You try to keep yourself calm and collected, taking deep breaths in before letting them out. Fresh out of the shower, water droplets stick to your skin still as your bare feet patter against the ground as you feign heading to your dresser. Your eyes would flicker in his direction, trying to be as sneaky as possible with your glances.

That uptick in your heart rate should've been alarming. The change in your routine should be, too. However, he's let his guard down by this selfish act. You're rummaging through your drawers, keeping your head trained on your undergarments. He furrows his eyebrows, That's weird. She usually keeps has her change of clothes—

"I know you're watching me, Superman," he hears. Clark's frozen in place, stuck motionless in the sky, trying to decipher if it's his brain or actually you. Eyes back on you, you're now both making eye contact, and your lips are moving. "I've known for a while now."

He should leave. He should really leave. He knew that at some point that this would all backfire in his face.

He wants to leave. Everything inside of him is telling him to, but he has to think this through. If he runs—er, flies away—it could bite him in the butt. You could expose him, rally up your neighbors who had possibly caught sightings of him and expose him for the sick things he's been doing. But if he runs and never sees you again, there could be the possibility that you'd do nothing, and the both of you can pretend that none of this had ever happened. But, Superman nor Clark Kent, has ever been a coward.

"Don't go," your voice rings out slightly louder, a soft thud to the ground calls for him to look up. His eyes widen when he does. You've dropped your towel, letting it fall to the ground and standing bare, all for Superman to see. Mouth falling open before clamping shut, he floats like a fish out of water as you inch towards the window. He's definitely not going anywhere now.

You open the window, beckoning him with your eyes. "Come in… please?"

Fitting through the window, he can hear his heart pound against his chest roughly through his ears. He can feel the vibration and how the cartilage vibrates with every waking second.

He can hear how your heart's pounding loudly against your chest as well. He notices a vein running down your neck as you swallow, your sweat starting to blend in well with the drying shower water dripping from the nape of your neck. "I—I think you should put on some clothes…"

Gulping, he's trying his best not to look downwards at your naked body, blushing a deep red when he says that. You can't help but snort, your mood slightly souring at his suggestion. "Oh yeah? I thought this was how you wanted me since you like to spy on me when I've come right out the shower."

Oh, um… Clark doesn't know how to combat that. "That… those times were accidents."

"Accidents?" You scoff, wanting to laugh. "Lying doesn't suit you well, Superman."

"I'm sorry," he confesses, like a guilty child who stole from the store for the first time. (Similarly, he has a story similar to that while growing up in Smallville.) "I knew it was wrong the moment I did, but I… I could—I couldn't stop."

It's sick. How pathetic he looks confessing to his sin. You want to laugh, it's itching you to, in the back of your throat. Instead, a soft breath escapes you as the corner of your lips curve upwards. "I've got the Man of Steel apologizing to me… How'd you even find me? Wait—that's a stupid question because you're Superman. How—Why—I don't even know what to ask you!"

"I promise that this will be the last time I ever do this," he says. "With all the power in me, I will restrain myself from coming back here, and invading your personal space."

There's a silence as you collect all your thoughts together before, "No."

"Huh?"

"Get on your knees," you whisper, a moment of trepidation overtaking you. However, you see his knees buckle before there's a hardy thud sounding against the ground. He's looking up at you, blue eyes pleading and asking for your forgiveness.

The cape hooked onto his suit drags against the ground as he shuffles closer to you. You can feel his body heat radiating off of you, nearly centimeters away from him touching your naked skin. Face tinged in pink, his strong posture weakens. "Please… I'll do anything for your forgiveness. I don't want to be a man you fear."

But is Clark truly a man?

Your silence makes Clark shiver, your eyes scanning him as you decipher just what to do next. Your heart beat picks up its pace, but you try to keep a steady breath. Your eyelashes flutter and subconsciously, your body decides before your mind. Fingers reaching for his face, you caress Superman's face. The palm of your hands resting on his cheek so gently despite your inconclusive thoughts—anger, disgust, lust. They all infiltrate your senses, clouding your better judgment as you stand naked in front of a kneeling Superman.

He easily fell into submission for you. The strongest being Earth has, yet he's fallen to his knees for a mere mortal. You don't know whether to hold pride for yourself, or to call him pathetic.

Clark gets bold, arms reaching out to hold onto your waist. However, the feeling of your smooth skin quickly vanishes when you snap, "Don't touch me."

Again, an apology spills from his lips. It's breathy and has become meaningless to your ears, "Sorry."

You wiggle your toes, your foot lodging itself in between his legs as Superman subconsciously lowers himself for you. Ass hitting the ground, his legs spread as he seemingly reads your mind. The sole of your feet pressing itself into the erection the supe is sporting, using as much force as you can as he leans back. Arm stretched out to hold his weight up, he shivers. "Gosh, that feels… that—that feels good."

"You're sick," you say, watching how his eyes flutter shut and feeling how his cock gets harder underneath your foot. Your toes curl, feeling how his hips twitch and buck into you. His chest rising and falling as he takes in a deep inhale, holding his breath to savor this moment.

"I know," he exhales. "I can make it up to you."

"How do you think of doing that?" you ask, your jaw clenching as you step harder. You can feel a wet patch growing underneath. Superman's face reddens even more as he struggles to find the best response. "I–I don't know, but… but I know that I'll do anything within my power—"

"You couldn't even use that power to stop yourself from watching me." You stop all movement, dragging your foot away and leaving Clark needy. "What makes you think I'll trust you'll stay true to your word?"

He's speechless, eyes diverting away from you in shame. Instead, he looks at the soft and fluffy rug underneath your bed, blue pupils trained on it. "Look at me."

Grabbing his face, you force him to look up. You see who he truly is. That he might be the strongest and that he might run towards danger to save everyone else, but at the end of the day, he's just like anyone else. Superman seems like a ploy to you now, a way for him to cleanse himself of his sins after he finds himself perched outside your bedroom window once more.

There were people that questioned Superman's intentions, asking if his actions were truly pure. You were never one of those people, seeing the superhero for what he is—a superhero. He pledged himself one the moment he stood in harm's way, swooping in to save the child and rescue that stray cat from inside the tree. You admired what he did in Boravia, and how he helped to uncover Lex Luthor's malicious nature.

Despite that, people still deduce Superman to nothing but an alien that has a hidden agenda. Now that he's kneeling down right before you. It's a shame when you can't help but think—he's just like everybody else; he's just like every other man.

"If you want me to forgive you," you say. "You begin with this, okay?"

He doesn't utter out another word, simply nodding, Okay.

You know how Superman moans. Letting himself go, it's not as guttural and planned as the typical man would try and make it out to be. He's breathy, whining and whimpering as his thigh's hooked over your calves, both hands wrapped around you to keep you steady. He's bucking into you, rutting his pelvis out like a dog in heat. While the vent is pointed directly at you, cold air hitting your skin, all you can feel is his warmth wrapped around your body.

His hold around you is tight, but not dangerously so. It provides you a sense of security and safety within his hold, while he rubs his clothed cock against your leg, eyes shut as he pleasures himself against you. This is supposed to be demeaning and humiliating, but does he even know what those two words mean? Instead, his face is twisted and contorted with pleasure as he holds no second thoughts about what he's doing.

No, this isn't what he imagined when he finally got to see you naked without having to hide. His ideas were much more crude, and much more selfish on this part, but gosh, this feels better than having his hand wrapped around his length, spurting out onto his bedsheets all alone or onto his computer screen. He's got what he wanted—you.

"Is this what you wanted, puppy?" you ask with a light snicker, the corners of your lips twitching upwards at the question. "Wanted to see me naked and get yourself off?"

He nods, and he looks so pathetic with how eager he was to answer. "Yes, yes. It's what I wanted. You look so pretty like this."

Hands combing through his hair, and running through his curls, your touch is gentle while your words are supposed to be venomous. But venom isn't supposed to make him feel so good. Instead of feeling shame, his want for you only increases by the second. Your gentleness turns into roughness, fingers knotting in his hair as you pull roughly, forcing him to meet your eyes. "Bet you wanted more, huh? Bet you want to be inside this pussy so bad."

"Yes," he confirms, eyes blinking shut for just a fragment of a second. His grip tightens, pulling you closer to him and pressing his groin into your leg. "But, I'll take what you give me."

"Aww," you coo, bottom lip jutting out. "Such a good puppy."

"I am?" Batting his eyelashes at you, there's a stagger inside of you. You nearly lose your composure, but Superman holds you up. Collecting yourself, your pupils meet his blue ones with a faint nod.

"Please," he starts, "As a form of an apology, let me—" Getting flustered, he diverts his attention to something else, staring at the wall"—let me eat you out. I promise to make you feel good."

"Superman really is a selfless man, huh?" you chuckle, cupping his face gently. At the request, your pussy flutters, your inner thighs sticky from your dripping arousal. You don't say another word, lifting up your leg to hook over his shoulder, bearing out your pussy to him. Looking at him, he feels himself starting to salivate while his heart pounds against his chest, attempting to jump out of it. Fixing his arms to wrap around you, his hips buck, thighs tightening around the limb to both keep you steady and to further rut himself against you.

He inhales deeply, smelling your natural odor. And, if he wasn't already so painstakingly hard, he'd get harder. He grunts, his nose dipping into your heat, feeling the wet and warm essence of your arousal against the tip of it. Shutting his eyes, his muscles relax and he only pulls you closer. From above, it looks like he's finally found himself in heaven, the way his body relaxes underneath you and his mouth moves up to plant a sweet, chaste kiss against your labia. He cleanses his lips with your slick, his tongue swiping out to taste your nectar. Like sugar on his tongue, he finds every inch of your body sweet.

And when he finally dips the tip of the pink muscle inside, first flicking against your clit, he thinks he'd melt. A muffled, 'Oh my God,' falls from his lips, vibrations humming against your folds before his mouth latches onto your lips, sucking. The both of you hum in fervor, your posture weakening as your hand grasps onto his shoulder, sharp nails pricking into his skin, but never causing any real harm. Your head falls forward, and Clark watches how he's slowly unraveling you.

Just like the good puppy he is, he aims to please, tongue entering your hole and exploring all that there is and what he can reach. He drags more and more out of you, your arousal seeping on his tongue and forever absorbed into the muscle for him to remember for all of eternity. He tries to be as gentle as possible, but the more he tastes, the more he's starting to unravel. Short and stubby nails pressing into your skin, surely to bruise, his body heat reverberates off of him as he grinds his hips against you.

Mouth fallen open, your face twists and contorts from the pleasure. You're barely able to squeak out a sound with the way his tongue curls inside of you as you grind against his tongue. Your slick and his saliva creating a mess in between your thighs and trailing down his chin the more he gets lost in you. He pants, still holding onto some semblance of control. Pink muscle traveling to your clit, it swirls and draws circles into it before he plants a kiss, a gentle nibble sending shock waves throughout your body.

"How am I doing?" he breathes. You nod, trying to find the words, "You're—You're doing so well. So good, puppy."

And so elated from the praise, he dives back into you to continue, pulling at your waist so that you can continue to whine against his tongue. The leg hooked over his shoulder, digs into his back, creating creases and lines within his red cape. You're starting to see stars as your orgasm quietly approaches, a slight stir within your stomach as you clench it. Clark can feel it, feeling how your pussy flutters against his tongue and only egging him on to slurp up your sweetness, the pace of his tongue quickening to bring you to ecstacy.

"O-oh, God…" you cry. "Fuck! Fuuuckkkk… Superman, it's too much!"

While you cry, your leg pulls him closer, your nails digging deeper into his shoulders instead of pushing him away. He pulls away for a fragment of the time to mutter, "You can take it," before falling back in between your legs to get you to reach your high, feeling his cock twitch at how your moans become so high-pitched and whiny.

Toes curling as his tongue flickers so quick that your mind can barely comprehend it, you feel like you're about to fall over. Back hunched as you let out a choked sob, "Fuck, Superman! Oooh…"

Your release is sweet, falling onto the superhero's tongue as he laps up every drop that escapes you. That wet spot against his crotch dampens, his seed spilling out in copious amounts that it drips down to his pantleg. He groans, his voice vibrating against your core and sending a shiver down your spine as you regain control. You pant, pulling away from his venturing tongue as his hold loosens from around you. Your muscles ache as you step back, viewing Superman's disheveled state.

His hair a mess, his mouth wet, and his attire ruined from his orgasm. You want to gasp at the sight. His lust-blown eyes sever to some idea of normalcy, bringing himself up to his feet to tower over you. In the silence the two of you share, it brings him to think more rationally. "I–I'm sorry. I hope you know how sincerely sorry I am. And… I think I can find a solution."

"How?" you breathe.

Maybe not all rationality. "I can start off with that article… clearing everything about what happened that night?"

· naunamix notes. honestly, this could've gone on longer, but i strictly wanted to end this around 10k words. hopefully, if you finished the fic, you liked it. thank you so much for reading it! also, thank you @kryptoclark for encouraging me to fr write for our mans. i love you bad.

[glamoursize]

[ SCANDALOUS KINKTOBER²⁵ : OCTOBER 31 ] CUNNILINGUS, PRAISE KINK, MIRROR SEX

hollywood's it couple ── gojo satoru & fem-bodied!reader [ angst, smut ]

the people love them ─ you and gojo satoru ─ but truth be told, do they truly love each other?

۶ৎ : actor!gojo satoru, actress!reader, fake relationship, mirror sex, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, masturbation, oral fixation, unprotected sex [ 𝜗ৎ 3.6k words ! ]

☆ acknowledgements ! thank you so much for tuning into this month's kinktober newsletters. i wanted to write so bad and making myself finish this was good for me. i'll eat ur ass as a thanks, mwah!

Not every couple was authentic to the public eye. Those longing stares and prolonged touches were practiced beforehand, those kisses entirely meaningless and those photos taken prior to easily fooling the public. There were so many Hollywood couples written underneath a contract that people weren’t aware about. And if they were speculating, they had no concrete evidence other than their correct hunches. 

Fortunately for you and Gojo, no one suspected a thing as you A-list actors had it entirely under your belt. It felt like a business relationship, a match made in heaven when your manager first suggested the idea. Gojo was currently under fire for his poor choices and you were Hollywood’s dear sweetheart. With your practiced smiles and perfect giggles, people saw you as a complete angel, someone who could tie down the beast that was Gojo Satoru. 

And it worked. 

You had managed to capture thee Gojo Satoru under your spell, but it wasn’t the sweet personality that you had as a front. Yeah, you were nice. Someone he’s come to rely on over the time the two of you had spent together, creating a bond that wasn’t falsified for the public. The two of you were genuinely friends, enjoying each other’s company whenever the two of you had set dates to hang out in public. No, you had managed to tame Gojo through the use of female anatomy, having him completely pussy-whipped for you. 

It started off as a drunken accident. Him inviting you to a party to keep up appearances and the both of you both getting drunk and starting to fool around. One thing led to another as it ultimately came down to the two of you agreeing to keep this going. And while the first time was alcoholic-induced haze, the second time wasn’t and your pussy was a euphoric feeling that made him feel like he was a virgin dipping his toes in the world of sex again. You had kept him bound from that moment forward that it led to more, hazing his vision and leading him blind.

Sex became something powerful, your pussy casting a spell over his cock and binding poor Gojo Satoru’s heart to you. And you didn’t even realize. No longer did Gojo come chasing to get his dick wet and leave shortly after. No, it ended up with his arms wrapped around you after he had gotten you cleaned up and you waking up in his arms. You didn’t question it because you became friends. You’ve fallen asleep like this with all your other ones before— them all being girls. It didn’t sway your mind because both you and Gojo knew that it was all fake. 

It was all fake.  

But what’s so fake about him kneeling before you right now, head between your legs, forcing you to look into the mirror? What’s so fake about him tonguing you down, promising that he’ll have your cunt dripping down his face? How can you deny this when he’s whispering praises into your sweet and supple thighs? How can you think such a thing?

Fortunately, for the time being, your mind is clouded on anything but this arrangement. Moreso focused on the devil in between your legs, promising you bliss. 

Gojo loves frequenting your place, always managing to mess up your sheets and your kitchen countertop and your washing machine. Something about your place feeling more homey and comfortable, something he never had when growing up. You never did mind, but with your slick leaking like a faucet, dripping down on the silk sheets that you recently put on a day or two ago. Again, all due to the man in between your legs. 

Your arms ache from the weight of yourself. Your head flung back as Gojo’s dull nails dug into your flesh before you felt a small pinch against your thigh and him pulling away from your sopping lips. “Eyes on the mirror, love. Need you to watch me make you feel good.” 

His voice is low, breath tickling your thigh before his lips are once more wrapped around the supple and sopping ones in between your legs. You can’t help but oblige, legs spreading even more and your arms getting weaker with every passing second. They tremble as you feel that smooth stripe of Gojo’s pink tongue. It’s delicate and careful, his tastebuds savoring everything. His eyes have fallen shut as he embraces himself in the warmth of your body heat, feeling your stomach rise and fall in a trembling rhythm. 

One hand holds a thigh, squeezing and rubbing it. They’re almost as soft and tender as the pink muscle sucking and prodding at your clit. Gojo rubs soft and tandem circles into your skin while the next hand holds his aching cock, dripping of precum. His bright pink tip aches as it shines like delicate porcelain. His thumb presses against his urethra teasingly and his hips buckle when he hears a soft sob come from your mouth. Inside his mind, he rejoices. Yes, yes. Cry out because of me. It urges him to squeeze his length, hand running down to the base of his cock and continuing to stroke himself. 

“Fuck, Toru,” you sob. “You’re eating my pussy so good. Don’t want you to stop.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” he breathes into your skin, so quick and so quiet that you don’t have a chance to neither hear nor process it. Your hands start trembling as you feel his lips suction onto your clit, the wet sound of sucking echoing the walls while the hand that was on your thigh traverses down to in between your legs. Middle and index finger slotting themselves to your entrance and pressing against your walls when he slides them inside you. You cry, “Omigosh, Satoru.”

Your head has fallen back and the soft nibble on the sensitive bud has you coming back to place as Gojo pulls away. “I don’t want to tell you again, love.”

You never did understand how and when he knew you’d manage to disobey him. Whether it was on purpose or an accident, he always had a way of telling that would leave you questioning. 

You dragged out your cries. Your bottom lip poked out as you whined, but you had no argument. You could feel Gojo chuckle in between your thighs, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. Again, he pulls away. “Maybe you should’ve taken my advice and installed a mirror on your ceiling. You’d be more comfortable now.”

“Just shut up and eat my pussy,” you breath, focused more on your pleasure than his past suggestions. Humming, Gojo does argue any further. Instead, his fingers thrusting inside of your gummy and sweet walls, finding himself back in paradise. He remembers how he once described the exact taste of your pussy. You ended up laughing at him while you hovered over his face, but slapped at your inner thigh and said he could never bring himself to lie to you. He had such a bashful smile on his face while his digits toyed and played with your clit, collecting your sweet arousal and painting his lips with it. Then, his smile grew even more toothier. 

You taste like the forbidden nectar that the gods hid away from humanity, instead fighting amongst themselves in hopes that one of them could have your hand. He remembers you looking at him in awe with how easily the words flew from his mouth. For a second, he wondered if you had figured it out there, that he was madly and irrevocably in love with you. But then, you laughed it off and said, “No wonder you’ve managed to get so many women in bed. That mouth has a way with words.”

For a moment, Gojo was pained. Over the time that’s been spent with each other, do you really still see him as a player? There were times when you were both mutually vulnerable with each other. Did that mean nothing to you?

Nonetheless, he covered it up and played himself to be the very person that the media has portrayed him to be. “Maybe that’s why I’ve such a talented tongue.”

It was something the both of you could agree on. The way Gojo sucks and slurps your juices with no shame, coming from in between your legs like a proud puppy waiting for a prize— the prize right above him. Clawing on the bedsheets, you fight to keep your head up and train on the mirror. With the silk in hand as your nails dig and dig, you can feel the sharpness starting to go through the fabric and to your skin. Your hips buck as your eyes flutter shut for a mere second before they fall open and you’re lacking back at yourself. Face flushed with sweat, you can feel the heat radiating from your body and from Gojo’s. You can feel your pussy pulsate with how Gojo’s finger fucking you, his long digits reaching depths no man was able to reach before with just their hands. He touches that sweet, spongy spot deep inside and your moans drag out and turn weak. “Satoru,” you drag. “I need you.”

Caressing his head, your hands comb through his locks and pull him off of you, gently. Your eyes speak what your mouth doesn’t, Please. But, Gojo’s always been a greedy man. “Just a little while longer, m’kay? M’kay.”

You roll your eyes, but they end up rolling to the back of your head with the amount of force he puts into ruining. The smooth, languid thrusts disappear to seemingly deeper and faster. The room is soon infiltrated with high-pitched whining as you drown out the sound of Gojo’s moaning from in between. His lips suctioned on your dark clit, he sucks on like a breastfeeding baby— the taste of you his favorite drug. 

The fist formed around his cock speedens, a dark shaft that contrasts the pink of his tip. Your chest rises and falls, your stomach pushing into his head as you start to teeter the edge of the bed. Your head has fallen back now and Gojo can’t bring himself to care enough to chastise you. His hips thrust into his hand, waist rolling just as his tongue rolls over your clit. He hums with self-satisfaction, a proud smile on his face while it’s stuffed in between your pretty legs. His name is a mantra on your lips and he feels his cock twitch within his palms. No, it’s all too soon. 

Pulling away from the sweet delicacy that is you count, his pace quickens even more. “C’mon,” he breathes, a set of determination rolling over twofold. The wet sound of your pussy bouncing off the walls as you lose all control of your body. Arms falling down, you let yourself succumb to Satoru. He takes it as an opportunity to throw your legs open even wider, posture straightening as this gives him a chance to go deeper. Every thrust and drill of his fingers pulling a moan from him. Freeing his cock from himself, it slaps against his thigh as it continues to twitch, your music fueling his impending orgasm. 

“Gooosh, Satoru…” 

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m making you feel so good.” He’s held so much pride for the projects and films he’s been in. He used to boast so proudly to anyone and everyone who would listen about the opportunities and the blessings thrown at him. But now, he holds more pride in how he treats and cares for you. His most prized possession. 

Unfortunately, you’re not truly his. 

As he wanted, you cum before him. And addicted to the sound that you make, he follows behind, leaking onto the tiled floor and cleaning your creamy pussy with his tongue. The two of you moan through your orgasm, you even longer the more that Gojo decides to linger. Soon, his aching knees rise from the ground and press into the bed, his kisses creating a wet path towards your lips. Making frequent pitstops, from your tummy to right below your bust, to the crevices of your breasts, and up to your neck. At your neck he stops to suck and prod, creating marks in your skin as a sign of ownership that you’d soon chastise him for. Then from your neck to your lips, making you taste yourself— to taste how sweet he thinks you are. 

Length pressed against your wet mound, another erection forms, telling you how much he needs and wants you. And as much as Gojo’d love to slot himself inside those ravished lips, he teases himself and you by grinding against your pussy. Spit and your orgasm mixing together with his seed as his cock, glides smoothly up and down. He hums into your lips, taking the bottom one in between his teeth to suck. His hands tangle around your waist and he pulls you tighter against him.

He wonders if through all this you can tell how much he deeply wants you. Not as some pussywhipped actor taking advantage of this fake relationship. He wonders if his actions are managing to sway your decisions in the past and you, too, see something in him, like he you. You manage to giggle, pushing away at Gojo and beckoning for his attention. “Satoru, stop.”

“Why?” he whines, his bottom lip jutting out as he pouts. “Don’t you like this?”

“I do,” you admit with a soft laugh. Your eyes darken, though. “But I want you inside me. Need you inside me.”

Again, he gnaws on your bottom lip, grinning from ear to ear as his sapphire eyes sparkle. “Yeah? How bad?”

“So bad,” you egg him on. 

“What would you do for it?” He smirks, hand reaching to align with your entrance. You shrug in faux contemplation, “Suck on your toes.”

“Nah,” Gojo grimaces. “What else?”

“Start lactating for you?”

“Could you really?” Gojo’s eyes sparkle. You hum, “Probably with some hormones or whatever.”

Thinking about it, he shakes his head. “Nah, that’d open up some pregnancy rumors.”

“I though you wanted to get me pregnant,” you cock an eyebrow at him challengingly.

“Yeah, but not without a ring.” There’s a moment of silence just between you and Gojo, both your eyes sparkling with something more. And his slightly more than yours. “Would you do that for me? Marry me?”

And to boost his ego, you shamelessly say, “Yes.”

Back pulled to his chest, Gojo fucks into you while holding onto your neck. His fold is firm, but not restricting. He forces you to look in the mirror, making sure to keep you up and aware of just how good he’s making you feel. Gojo’s strength still overwhelms you knowing that the muscle isn’t just for the cameras. Veiny forearms that traverse your thigh, pulling it open wider to go even further inside you. And while he’s adamant on you keeping your eyes on yourself, he hisses as he throws his head back, enjoying the way your pussy feels. 

You grip onto one of your breasts, your nails digging into the fatty flesh. Thumb rolling over your nipple as you gnaw on your bottom lip. When Gojo’s eyes flutter back open, he can’t help but fall in awe over you. “Fuck… You’re so gorgeous.”

The palm of his hand starts to travel your body, trying to permanently embed the feeling and image of your body inside of his mind. Not for lustrous greed, but to remember every fabrication and model of you. “The way my hands slot so perfectly around your waist; how your breasts are so perfect to cup and kneed—so soft…”

Angling his head underneath your armpit, he licks a stripe alongside your breast as his fingers tweaks at your nipple. “You’re just so perfect for me.”

It continues from there. Gojo finding every big and miniscule thing to obsess over you for, he does. Though you’re splayed over his cock in such a raunchy manner while sitting in front of the mirror for it to reflect everything, he’s delicate with your body. You feel a spark inside of you with Gojo’s lips on you, sweet and loving kisses that should have you on high alert, but you’ve always pushed it to the back of your mind. You always do when it comes to him.

There’s that slight inkling that tells you to question and stop viewing everything on the surface level. However, you refuse. You’re selfish, subconsciously taking advantage of Gojo’s love all for the ecstacy that he provides. Your hips wine and grind down on his cock, and your eyes watering as you’re forced to watch yourself. The veins protruding from his hands, fingers holding onto your neck as his head peaks from behind. Messy white hair that try to hide those cerulean eyes that are dipped in admiration as he kisses along your shoulder. “Look at the mess you’re making around my cock. Your pussy loves me, doesn’t it?”

Blinking the tears away, you nod. “It loves you so much.”

“Yeah?” he breathes. “Y’gonna cum around it again?”

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you nod. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he whispers in your ear. “Let it show me just how much you love me.”

—

After sharing another orgasm with you, Gojo managed to convince you to lay down with him. You’re cozied up in his chest, doomscrolling through Instagram while he’s deep in thought. Eyes trained on you, his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. 

“What if I told you that I love you?” Satoru blurts, arms wrapped around your waist. Immediately the air got thick. So thick that he’d need to sharpen the knife twice to cut through it. Your body tenses up as you throw the sheets off of you, turning your head to look back at him. “‘Toru, are you serious?”

He wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction, but then again, he didn’t know what he was expecting when he absentmindedly blurted the question. He thought that maybe in the form of a question, you’d take it as a joke. That he’s so drunk off your cunt that he’s fallen in love, but both you and him know the way his voice spoke with so much sincerity, it was anything but that. So, he can’t lie his way out of this, head falling in shame as he whispers, “yes.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Gosh, you’re calling me Satoru,” Gojo holds his forehead. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

“No, no, I—” You stopped midsentence because you realized that he was right. You don’t have anything else to say. There was one point where you felt like you had a semblance of romantic feelings for Gojo, where you had pined after him from the start, but the moment this had become sexual, you knew you had to cut all romantic ties that wrapped around your head. It proved to be difficult, but the more and more nights he called you over to cop a feel, it slowly dawned on you that this was purely sexual. And you didn’t want to be another name on the roster of girls that you knew he had. “I’m so sorry, ‘Toru, but I…”

“You don’t have to say anything more,” he repeats himself, coming to sit up as he hides his face in his hands, leaning over in shame as he refuses to look at you. “I had an inkling.”

“Okay,” you whisper, reaching for the dress thrown haphazardly to the ground, pulling it over your head as you silently got dressed. Gojo had gotten up, making his way to the bathroom as you got the rest of your stuff and left. When he came back, you were nowhere to be found. 

GOJO SATORU AND [YOUR NAME] HAVE BROKEN UP !!

By Geto Suguru | Friday, October 31, 2025 ( 4:00 PM EST )

Two long years of Gojo Satoru tied down, the Hollywood It-Couple call it quits through a simple tweet on Twitter (or X) as the two of them have come to part ways. It all started when fans had noticed a lack of posts made on both accounts about each other as the two used to always mention each other in a conversation somehow. When fans realized that that was starting to diminish, they quickly caught on that something was wrong as they all started speculating. One fan down right asking them if they broke up in hopes to get clear answers, to which you respond in a repost saying:

“Yes, unfortunately, Gojo and I have broken up. While the relationship between us was something meaningful and deep down, I will still have some love for him deep down, we have both agreed that it’s time to go our separate ways. Please be understanding and give us the space needed as this is the first and last time I address this.”

And while you clearly stated that you wouldn’t be answering further questions and speculations on the breakup, people were quick to run to Gojo to hear his side of the story. However, to no avail, Gojo has yet to respond about the ordeal itself. It seems like he’s the one taking it the hardest. In my honest opinion, I was never a fan of the two of them together, but I am really heartbroken for Gojo. I wish him a steady healing from this breakup, and I hope to hear the rest of your thoughts about SatoYN. Did you guys ship it?

If you wish to read more from Loafi Chill, please subscribe to our newsletter for the low price of $0.99/month. You’ll receive early access to all of our articles, gaining immediate intel on the scoop with your favorite celebrities. 

Thank you for tuning into a Scandalous Kinktober! It was a (stressful) blast getting this done, but we prevail. See you next kinktober!

(Or maybe… It’ll be too late… BOO!)

if you're an og of this k!tober series, what was your favorite of mine?

sukuna ryoumen.

nanami kento.

utahime iori & shoko ieiri.

gojo satoru.

Voting ended onNov 7, 2025

[glamoursize]

[ SCANDALOUS KINKTOBER²⁵ : OCTOBER 24 ] HOMOEROTIC THREESOME & SEX TOYS

they're just friends ── utahime iori, shoko ieiri & fem-bodied!reader [ smut ]

there are many theories speculating shoko ieiri and utahime iori's relationship, but despite the ongoing questions, the two refuse to neither confirm nor deny.

۶ৎ : musician!utahime iori & actress!shoko ieiri & paparazzi!reader, all female threesome, nonconsensual phototaking, monetary & sexual bribery, deceit, dubcon, face sitting, cum eating, double-ended dildo, vibrator, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, etc. [ 𝜗ৎ 4.0k words ! ]

☆ tune into newsletter subscriptions ! they're my favorite lesbians. i needed to get in between the action tee bee ayche. anyway, one more kink fic to go! y'all ready?

As much as the world likes to think it was, it was not as progressive as it seemed. They accepted the stuff that went against societal norms in film, because hey, that man kissing that other man is actually happily married to a woman in real life! Despite the many amount of pride months there were and the openly queer couples that ventured out in public, unashamed of who they are, there are always the conservative and those in denial that still label them as “just friends.” 

Hell, your grandma’s female roommate for years were. 

Shoko and Utahime didn’t think they’d need to make a public statement. It was very evident in their eyes what they were. It was very evident to the LGBTQIA+ community what the two of them were, but the media was still speculating as they wanted them to just downright say it. It made Shoko want to scoff and spit at everyone for it. People are so exhausting. 

Propping open the window to the motel might’ve not been the best idea considering the shabby condition it was in, but she needed to light up her cigarette and she didn’t want to go outside to do it. She was only in her bra and a pair of shorts as her long auburn hair blew through the wind, a chilly breeze running through SoCal at this time of hour. With Utahime in the shower, it was giving her plenty of time for a smoke break. 

She doesn’t see the car that’s parked at a safe distance away, binoculars searching just for the right moment as she’s leaning out the window. Her breasts nearly spilling out of the undergarment she’s so open in revealing herself in. You reach for the camera, snapping a few photos of her as you keep watch through the lens.

Your life as a journalist sucked as you lived paycheck to paycheck, each one ranging between a high and low number. You love what you do, but you wish you didn’t have to be so desperate for gigs like this to make a living. People were digging to get a secure title of what Shoko and Utahime were, though you had always found the answer obvious. Who cared for the critique of the old when they were no longer being the majority catered to in film? 

Still, a job was a job As you camp out in your black 2013 Honda Civic, peering through your camera lens for a good and more promising shot, with Shoko’s eyes that never seemed to focus on one thing, it was easy to assume that she was unsuspecting of your lurking eyes. And with such a beautiful sight, you found her incredibly gorgeous. Not even with all the sex appeal of her being in her bra, but just how her eyes squint as she takes in the rest of the world, her long hair flowing in the wind as strands blow in an unorderly fashion. 

The mole stood below her left eye being her mark of beauty within Hollywood as the quick comparison of Marilyn Monroe first sparked conversation the first time she started becoming popular on screen. Beautiful brown eyes that seemed to hold stories to them in comparison to the lovely harpist, Shoko’s counterpart.

Utahime Iori, just as dazzling as her girlfriend, she had a story herself but always seemed more composed and calm in comparison to her partner. Minus the large scar that traverses her face, Utahime was a sight for sore eyes. She’s a talented musician that started getting recognition after the beautiful ensembles she produced in many films, receiving Oscars to showcase her talent. Nobody could quite tell how the two of them came to be, but their relationship was quickly called to question when a few impromptu snapshots were captured and reported. All enough to speculate, but none to confirm.

Utahime’s arms were now wrapped around Shoko as they began to converse. Shoko immediately discards the cigarette out the window as you capture a few more pictures. And then some more, and then some more until you finally get what you’re after. A photo op of a kiss caught on camera as the two embrace each other. One strap falling off of Shoko’s shoulder before the next and then, you finally decide you have enough convincing pictures to pair with the quick article you can type up. 

You set your camera down for a moment, starting up your car as you get your shit together. Your half finished sub wrapped back in the wax paper and thrown in the paper bag, so its contents don't go flying. You’re pressing your foot on the brakes about to start the engine when you hear three heavy knocks against the glass, a shadow overcasting you in the very moment. 

“Fuck,” you curse. The two people you were spying on right in front of you as robes drape their figure, covering up their vulnerable states. You’re trying to think of a way out of this, not wanting to deal with the confrontation of you upsetting people for just doing your job. However, Shoko can read your next move as she signals for Utahime to stand in your rear while she’s at the front. It leads you to groan out another curse as you realize you’re trapped. What if I just— Is it worth going to jail for?

You unwind the window to their pleasure as Shoko smirks, a hand propped on her hips as she looks down at you. “You’re gonna delete those pictures.”

She says it with confidence, demanding you to do it instead of requesting. You tilt your head to the side in a challenge as Utahime comes to join her side. You meet her energy with yours, reflecting a smirk as well as you raise your eyebrow. “Oh, so the two of you are just friends after all, huh? Just something occasionally on the side?”

Utahime scoffs. “Ugh, no.”

“Then what’s the shame in me uploading these pics?” you combat.

“The shame is you being a filthy fucking scumbag who can’t respect people’s privacy,” Shoko retorts. You shrug. She’s right.

“Hey, you have your job and I have mine.”

“How much are they paying you?” Utahime steps in, crossing her arms as she nudges Shoko to the side. Shoko looks her way, but doesn’t question her. With paparazzi like you, she has to play at your own game.

“Huh?” Not expecting that response, though it was a smart move on her behalf, you must admit.

“How much are they paying you?” Utahime repeats. “We’ll pay you double— triple even.”

“Hey,” Shoko nudged her, digging her elbow into Utahime’s side at the announcement of the triple. The two of them share a silent conversation spoken with their eyes before Shoko’s bending down, Utahime standing behind her to block the sight from any passers-by and anyone possibly peeking through the window. “I raise you this. We’ll pay you double, and—” Glancing back, Shoko only hopes that Utahime agrees with her proposition. “—you’ll get a little treat from us.”

Shoko pulls at her robe, revealing her cleavage that has Utahime pulling at her. “Shoko, that’s even worse than what I suggested!”

“How so?” Shoko hums. “Our privacy gets respected and we have a little fun with little Miss Peeping Tom right here.”

“Who says I’m into girls though?” you continue to challenge, raising your head at them. 

“Then the triple still stands,” Shoko nods. “Now, it’s your choice.”

At the suggested options, you hum to yourself. Eyes flickering over from Shoko to Utahime as you feel a heat pool through you. You squirm and it doesn’t go unnoticed. While Utahime was initially hesitant about her girlfriend’s proposition, seeing the way you’re heated up right now is enticing. Plus, she trusts Shoko enough to know that this within itself would be an enticing experience worth sharing. It was two against one. 

“Look at you,” Utahime says, coming to coax you. “Did it turn you on to see us kissing?”

“I saw you taking pictures of me earlier,” Shoko chuckles. “That wasn’t any proof. Bet it was just so you could be a sick little perv.”

Your wall is breaking and they know it. You feel ashamed for how easy you break when you unlock the door and the two girls silently cheer in triumph with a knowing look on their face. Shoko chuckles, pointing her head in the following direction. “C’mon.”

But before the three of you continue, Shoko stops in her tracks. “And make sure to bring your camera.”

—

Your camera’s perched upon the dusty nightstand, close within Shoko’s vicinity. They’ve got you splayed on your back in the middle of the bed. Utahime leaning against the hardwood headboard, the sleeves of her robe falling down and revealing a breast, her brown nipple hard and pert inside the cold motel room. Shoko’s slotted in between your legs, her knee pushing them open wider as she reaches for the hem of your jeans pants.

The metal button snaps open as her short, stubby nails pull down the garment. She’s pulled off her robe, the bra that’s too small for her doing nothing to stop her breasts from spilling out of them as she leans forward. Unlike her girlfriend’s, Shoko’s hands aren’t smooth. The roughness of her skin pads down your thighs that make you twitch.

The soft giggle from Utahime as she watches, her own hands starting to travel to the valley of your breasts and pulling down your tank top to put them on display. The spaghetti straps roll down your arms, twisting down the pathway before she stops right at your waist. All the while, your jeans pool at your ankles and the simple white cotton panties reveal the small wet patch in between your legs. A thumb presses against it. Shoko’s thumb.

She presses against it, pretty brown eyes that look up at you like she’s uncovered a dirty little secret. “Don’t tell me this is just from this. Or, did this happen when you were spying on us?”

“The fun’s in the secret,” you smirk, wetting your bottom lip and glancing down at said wet patch. Shoko’s hand explores the expanse of your thighs, grip tightening and loosening every once in a while. “The question’s, what are you going to do about it?”

“Have you ever been with a girl before?” Shoko smiles, ignoring your question with another one. “Meant to ask you earlier.”

“Yup,” you answer with pride. “I’ve been told my tongue works magic.”

Utahime snorts, “That’s good to know. I’ll make sure I’ll test that one out myself.”

“That wasn’t really my concern, but since you promised to take care of Iori for me, we’re in good hands,” Shoko hums. Hands reaching for your panties now, she drags them down with a perfected swiftness, leaving you bare except for the scrunched up shirt around your waist.

Finally, Utahime slips out of her robe, completely bare underneath as her gentle hands lift up your head to rest in her lap. She plays with your breasts, tweaking at your nipples and rolling them in between her thumb while her partner hikes up your legs to rest them in over her thighs as she slots her fingers in between the lips of your warm cunt. She sighs as she admires, “You’ve got such a pretty cunt.” 

Her index finger glides in between them, wetting it with your arousal. Soft and sweet strokes against your labia in such a teasing manner that it already works up your impatience. It’s why you always preferred the giving end of things. “Am I being gentle enough? Iori always complains about how my hands are just too rough.”

“Because they are,” Utahime snorts. 

“They still get the job done, though, don’t they?” And even despite the longevity of their relationship, Utahime finds herself blushing. Shoko smirks, the tip of her finger entering you and that’s it. The bed sheets move when you do, legs tensing up every other second as Shoko’s index finger tickles your entrance. You inhale a breath as you answer her question with a huff, “You’re fine.”

Shoko’s eyes brighten at you squirming before her. She chuckles, “I’ve got you so worked up already. Don’t tell me you’re this easy to please?”

You scoff. “You wish. It just… It just tickles.”

Your face heats up, which only makes Shoko laugh even more as she keeps it up. “That’s cute,” she says, patronizingly. Just then, Utahime pinches your nipple, twisting it to see just how much you can take. Mouth falling open, you clench around Shoko’s finger as more of your juices seep out. “Seems like our little doll here likes the pain. Go figures considering her profession.”

If the jab was supposed to make you feel guilty, it doesn’t. You love what you do, you just hate the unstable pay. Despite the moan that dribbles out of your mouth, you manage to make a remark. “Think of something better. That one’s gotten old.”

Shoko tuts, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “We gotta do something about that mouth of yours, it seems. I don’t like dolls that talk back.”

“Mhm,” Utahime hums, nodding her head along. It seems like she and Shoko have a telepathic power as it takes nothing for her to shimmy your head off her lap and her bare pussy to hover over your face. However, before her lips are completely planted on yours, you manage to get one last thing out, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to treat your girl well. Maybe even better than you do.”

Utahime makes sure to shut you up for a good while, putting your mouth up for good use as she uses your tongue for her own pleasure. You’re then blinded by her ass over your eyes as Utahime goes to lean in for a kiss from Shoko. Their lips only touch for a few seconds before parting. A moan ripples from Utahime as your mouth latches onto her clit and your arms go to wrap around her upper thighs. Dragging her down to properly sit on her face, the simple caress of your tongue around her clit has her hunching forward. “Fuck.”

She tastes as natural as any woman you’ve ever been with, but her status convinces you that this is different. You can guess that you’re no different than any fan that idolizes their favorite celebrity. You just happen to learn about their weaknesses sooner than later. 

But, there’s a softness to Utahime’s beauty that differs from Shoko’s. Despite the large gash on her face that people have come to love, there’s an innocence that the media loves. The eyebags under Shoko’s eyes tell people that she’s seen too much, and Utahime’s eyes says she has yet to see enough. And right as she’s sitting on your face, she’s as delicate as the petals on a flower. You can see why Shoko fell for her. 

Your tongue swirls around her clit, the pink muscle dancing around the nub in glee before your body jolts at the feeling of Shoko’s fingers again. Index finger pressed to your hole, it prods and teases the entrance. You take deep, short breaths as you try to maintain composure with Utahime on top. Your tongue flattens against her labia as pressure against your tongue builds up. Legs tensing up at the torture between your legs, your nails nearly claw into Utahime’s thighs from it, pressing the woman deeper onto your face. 

“Oh, gosh,” Utahime moans. “Her tongue feels so good.”

Speaking about you in the third person, Shoko hums with a smile, eyes filled with hearts and insecurities when she leans in towards her partner. A soft peck to the lips before asking, “but not better than mine, right?”

Utahime giggles between her mewls. “Could anyone ever be better than you, love?”

Shoko’s fingers plunge into you as her and Utahime lock lips, tongues swapping spit as they share a deep kiss. In their moment of passion, you feel overwhelmed in the pleasure as you’re being finger fucked and being used as a seat. Your hips attempt to rise off the bed, but with her next hand against your stomach, Shoko forces you down to get closer to Utahime. It calls to question why exactly you said yes instead of agreeing to triple pay. You could’ve been long gone, paid for a job you didn’t complete. 

However, your cunt asks why not as your juices coat Shoko’s fingers in a translucent and sticky mess. You hum, vibrations shooking from your lips to Utahime’s core as Shoko and her are still locking lips. The ravenette’s spine shudders at the feeling, pulling away from her beloved as a thin string snaps when they depart. Now, she completely lets go of her weight, drowning in the pleasure supplied as one hand claws into the sheets and the next, her supple breasts.

Shoko’s fingers are still inside you, pressing themselves deeper within and tickling that spongy spot that starts to make you squirm. Your hole tightens, feeling a heat build up before there’s an absence. And weakly, underneath Utahime, you whine. You feel the sheets ruffle, Shoko’s hands searching for the hitachi wand that she had set aside with something else. She squirms, thighs tensing up together as her pussy leaks with want. The soft buzz hums inside the room, brought to life and inching towards your pulsing clit. 

When it touches the needy bud, your entire body jolts, nails digging deep into Utahime and creating marks. She jumps, but is stopped by your grip. You sing your moans, high-pitched and whiny as you lick and suck onto Utahime’s folds. The buzz runs through every vein and nerve inside of you and you can’t help but squirm and fight, the sex toy put onto the highest setting and making you want to scream.

It seems like Utahime and Shoko are finally having their absolute fun with you watching you struggle. Your fading orgasm returns and your lower body jumps as your knee kicks up and writhe. They both giggle, Shoko holding down your legs while Utahime plays with your nipples, the overstimulation driving you wild. Utahime fights back from yelping when your mouth suctions onto her clit, nearly biting down on it. You squeak, unable to utter a word when you feel your thighs wet and a translucent mess dampens the bed you lay on. 

“Look at how this pretty pussy’s made such a mess,” Shoko gasps, eyes sparkling as she keeps the wand in place, your hips shaking and your body spasming out. You kick your leg out straight, stiffening the longer the vibrating device is held to your clit. 

“I think she’s had enough,” Shoko’s girlfriend comes to the rescue, reaching for the wand. It slips from Shoko’s grip with ease and Utahime brings it up to your body and hovering over your nipples. With the vibrations nearing, you can feel it ghost your skin and your stomach clenches. Dark nipples erect and pert, a high-pitched moan sounds from underneath Utahime. Her clit serves as a pacifier, where you’re suckling on it. 

“Shit,” Utahime curses from underneath her breath, pressing the soaked wand against your nipples and watching your body jump. And Shoko presses her thumb against your puffy clit as she quite enjoys your sexual torture. Sensitive to the touch, you clench, feeling the wetness that you created. She plays in between your folds, spreading the wetness further and teasing you by inserting her index and middle finger. She loves the way you react to every little thing you do. 

“Mmm,” she hums. “Think this pretty girl’s all ready to be used. Right, Iori?”

“Yeah.” Utahime doesn’t bother to look, watching you writhe and squirm underneath. Your chest rising from the bed as you’re overstimulated, your body used as a play thing for the two women. You feel the sheets under you move again before something glazes over your thigh and flopping in between them. The silicone toy in between you and Shoko, she decides to be greedy this time around. 

Gliding the dildo against her folds, she presses it inside without preparation, taking short but strong gasps with every inch she forces herself to take before she’s had her fill. Then prodding right at your hole, she doesn’t waste a second it thrusting it inside, using her hips to drive the force inside. You squeal at the fullness, feeling how thick and filling the double-ended dildo feels inside of you. One leg overlapping the other, your helpness is taken advantage of as Shoko fixes you how she wants. 

As paparazzi, you’ve always found yourself in unlikely circumstances. Threatened, spat at, nearly ran over by a car. Your profession has always been criticized for the intrusivity. With the unfortunate outweighing the fortunate, this takes the cake in outbalancing the bad and reminding you the reasons why you stay. 

Though, this has been a first. Lodged in between two celebrities, your tears being soaked into a pale pair of thighs and yours and Shoko’s pussy are being fucked by an artificial cock. Your muffled mewls and moans vibrating through the woman before you as she grinds down her sweet cunt onto your mouth some more. Your face feels hot and you desperately need to breathe, but despite the fact, your body still aches for more. 

The hum of the live hitachi still sends jolts down your spine and every time you’re near a release, the power is switched and Shoko’s entire body stills, controlling the movement of the dildo. They move in synchronization, controlling your pleasure like you’re a remote. It’s only when Shoko shudders and Utahime’s close that they ultimately agree. Shoko asks, “Y’g’nna cum, baby?”

“Yeah,” Utahime answers in a high-pitched voice. With a drawl, Shoko hums, “Me, too.”

And it’s again that you feel that high. That sweet, sweet build up in your stomach bubbling over like a boiling pot. Utahime’s head eases from over you as your grip loosens and fingers tangle into the sheets. You try to latch onto her clit, but with the newfound air, your mouth falls into an ‘O.’ Two digits rubbing circles into her clit, Utahime rolls her hips into them as she watches you. 

“Oh—” you choke, back arching off the bed. You see the stars and wonder if heaven will be as beautiful as they are. You don’t feel your body on the bed anymore, but you can still feel Shoko plunging into you with the dildo as wet sounds echo off of it. Plap, plap, plap. 

Wetter and wetter, you cream around it before you feel the sweet rain from Utahime’s cunt. Your face splashed in her orgasm, your hips soon fall back to the bed as Shoko lets out a loud moan as she falls over you. 

Utahime climbs from over you, legs wrapping over the both of you as she starts playing with Shoko’s hair. Then the auburn woman looks up, that same glint in her eye when she says, “you don’t mind staying here a bit longer, right? Just gotta make sure you keep up on your word.”

—

“Okay,” you say, fiddling with your camera. “They’re deleted.”

Having watched you, the two girls were convinced as they nodded their heads. Shoko slung one shoulder of her robe back on as she pulled her hair from underneath. Utahime is still underneath the covers on the bed and she needs to nod. “Great,” she sighs.

“Good,” Shoko says more sternly. With a curt nod, you stood up as you were already dressed. Adjusting your top again, you held onto your camera as you pulled at the door. Twisting the knob, you left without as much as a goodbye, heading back to your car and hopping inside. 

You didn’t want to leave them suspicious, so you started the vehicle, immediately driving off. You turned on the radio before chuckling to yourself, knowing that the pictures were still saved to your SD card, not one photo scrapped.

[glamoursize]

white bandages ノ gojo satoru

the white bandages used to conceal his eyes signify his purity, but gojo satoru everything but pure.

( 🎙 ) naunamix tags. clan-head!gojo satoru & servant!reader, power imbalance, blackmail, dubcon, selfcest [gojo gives himself a blowjob with you], masturbation, teabagging, cum swallowing, etc. [ 𝜗ৎ 2.6k words ! ]

──── ☆ naunamix notes. literally saw this video & immediately said it was gojo. he's such a freaky boy. and i miss the white bandages :( they just did it for me :(

The Gojo clan was a family that held honor in being dignified sorcerers. Every kin that would follow must abide by the rules that was set in stone following the Heian era. With pulsing cerulean eyes that allured the many, they had to conceal them to hide away their beauty. Resulting in every member of the clan who inherited the astonishing blue hues to move around the premises of the Gojo property with a bandage adorning their face, and always varying between two colors—black and white.

Black for those who're married, and have consummated it in an act of sexual intimacy. Most of those who's already of age have shed their white bandages for black.

Typically reserved for the members underage, white bandages signified their innocence and purity to life. Untouched, the two colors were simple declarations of the Gojo clan adhering to the old and tradition values that society still upholds to some degree.

However, while most adults of the clan were partnered in heavenly matrimony. There was one still in waiting, pure white concealing his bright pupils despite being of age. A man of high status that should have long been arranged with someone to "love." Future clan leader, Gojo Satoru, was still pure.

While his mind was battered with the same ideologies shoved onto him the moment he had gained true consciousness and could comprehend his parents' words, he had managed to avoid courtship for so long. In his mid-twenties, it would have been something to ridicule him for, but one mere fact remained. He was the strongest.

With his six senses, he had dodged those same rules for the sake of his power, raised as a weapon instead and leading his clan into greater glory than prior. From the moment he turned eighteen, he had managed to slip past the rules while his cousins and other counterparts were forced into immediate obedience. And, he never had an issue with said circumstances.

But, he did wish he had someone to sleep next to, and get rid of each pulsating ache he felt inside of him. Like, right now.

It's dangerous with how much need he feels. Perched up on the dresser, concealing him from the windows, the bottom of his heels dig into the hardwood as the zipper of his black slacks are pulled down as he's gone commando, his cock poked right out from the hole. His lengthy and slender cock reddens with need, his chest vibrating when his fists it, his grip tightening as he can only think about his need.

He's grateful for the sound-proof walls, where he's able to let out a deep and guttural moan that reverberates through the room as his tip leaks with pre. Still, his white bandages are draped over his eyes despite the lewd action he's partaking in. The words of his father echos through his mind, "No premature acts of lust—not from someone else, and not even from yourself. Do you hear me?"

His father's voice echoing his mind should be enough to soften, but filled with so much lust, he's selfish.

"God," he sighs, left leg tensing up as he palms himself, his thumb rubbing over his urethra as he clenches. Spreading the pre, he nearly feels himself sliding off the piece of furniture holding up his weight. Fixing his posture, he feels the bandages loosen around as he's able to peak downwards at himself. He cups his balls, squeezing the flesh and egging on his lust as his grip lightens. Head hitting the wall, he pants as he feels his body temperature rising. Mouth open in a small 'O,' his fingers create a delicate path from the base and all the way up to the tip. His long nails tickling and teasing the dusty rose length, as his veins protrude and pulsate every time they graze it.

He twitches, the heel of his foot hitting against a metal drawer handle. This hasn't been the first time he's done this, sneaking away from his duties to become the clan-head to act on his sexual needs. Locking himself in the bathroom to dump his load down the toilet, or rutting himself against his office couch when he was given more than twenty minutes of alone time. Though his family is stuck up and judgmental, he can see it in their face that they, too, have defied rules, such as this one. The lust that overtakes them forcing their own hand, literally.

He doesn't feel shame doing this, freely letting out every moan and whimper spill from his mouth as the faith touches spur him on. His cock jumps, the tip of his cock brightening in color to highlight its need. His balls tighten as he curses, clenching down on his teeth as he angles his cock away from him, letting him spurt down on the white tiles below. Shots spraying, creating abstract patterns against it, he knows he'll have to clean it himself, not trusting his staff to keep their mouths shut.

Chest rising and falling fast before he can think straight, he finds himself needy as his cock's still hardened and it feels like he's even more lustful than before. He whines, eyes squinting shut as he wraps his fingers back around his length once more. How nice it would be to have someone to pleasure him and give him what he needs, to make his cock die down by the way they use him.

A pool of saliva forms in the bottom of his mouth at the thought. Oh, to have someone's lips wrapped around his cock, taking the entirety of him. Gagging around it and their eyes becoming watery as they can only try again and again before they're able to master it. The thought makes his chest rumble, cursing low, "Shit."

His head falling forward, bottom lip hanging as a string of saliva drip down and meeting his shaft, the idea sparked temptation and curiosity as he dips down. Back hunched as he nearly causes the dresser to tip over, he remains stability when his tongue lolls out and the tip of it touching his urethra. A slight graze that feels like nothing as he bends down deeper, able to taste the mix of pre and the remnants of his orgasm on the pink muscle. Despite the uncomfortable position, his shoulders relax as he shuts his eyes, imagining someone down below him and doing the work.

The vibrations of his hum runs straight down to his cock, balls tightening as his lips wrap around the head of his length. Cheeks hollowing as his tongue swirls around it and dipping to the urethra. His head bobs slightly as he licks and sucks, feeling the immense pleasure slowly coming undone. He doesn't hear the knock at the door, too engrossed in himself to before the door knob twists and his door's being opened.

You, a simple servant born into servitude as your family's pledged their lives into serving the Gojo clan, are walking around to complete your habitual duties when you arrived in front of Gojo Satoru's bedroom door. The typical soft knock before waiting a minute for a proper response, when you twist the handle, it's unlocked and granting you permission to enter from the lack of a response. Holding your bin with your hip and left hand, you move steadily as you enter silently.

With your back turned to shut the door, it isn't until you hear the soft groan that you turn around. The sight before you a shocking one that you nearly drop your basket of cleaning supplies. Heart pounding against your chest, you gasp. The sight is unclean and everything you're ever supposed to report of to the clan head. Hand reaching behind you in search for the door knob, you try to look away— you should look away, but with your mouth hung open in surprise, your eyes are glued to the sight before Gojo's finally looking up and jumping from the dresser to top you.

Cock still hard as he rushes over to you, you try to quicken your movements, finally getting ahold of the door handle and twisting an inch open. "No," he breathes, pushing it back shut the moment he's close enough. The sound of it shutting is alarming as you flinch, a frightened squeak falling from your lips as you're now trapped.

"S-Sir," you begin. "I'm sorry, but I'm obligated to report to the clan-head of anything that doesn't fall in order with the clan's rules."

"So, you wish to disobey the future clan-head?" Gojo didn't like to abuse his power like this, but in those moment of desperation and the pulsing of his cock, he has no other choice. You shake your head, backing up against the door for him to further trap you against. You stammer, "No, but—"

"Uh-Uh," he tsks, his voice getting lower, taking a step closer to you. His length pressing against the thin fabric of your uniform, staining it as its pressed against you. "Don't tell me that you're not even a little bit interested in having a taste of me."

"I—" Your face heating up, you divert your eyes away from him, but your curiosity having you beat when they flicker downwards to his hard length. Gojo doesn't miss it when he chuckles, using his index finger and thumb to force you to meet his eyes. "It's fine, love. Curiosity isn't a sin. What I'm doing isn't a sin, and neither of us have to get in trouble if you just do as I say. Got it?"

You hesitate to respond, body tensing as you try to think over the risk you're taking. However, the taller, more powerful man before you doesn't give you much more time to think as his grip tightens, pushing you against the wall harder. "Got it?"

You finally nod. "Yes."

Now sitting on the edge of his bed with his curtains closed shut, he's got you down on your knees as he smiles down at you. To think his wish would come true under these circumstances. You're a pretty little thing that he's noticed from time to time. You always kept your head low and did as told before retreating back to your quarters when time was called. He never though much of you from before, but with your timid, seemingly naive nature, he should've been more inquisitive.

You're picking at the strings of your uniform as your eyes are trained on his length before looking back up at him. Hand around the base of his shaft, he presses his tip to touch your lips. They part open, more pre leaking and painting your bottom lip with it as you can faintly taste it on your tongue. Tapping it against your lips once more, he beckons you to obey, "C'mon now, pretty. Open up that mouth."

Slowly, your mouth opens up wider and wider as your heart pounds inside of you, nearly wanting to jump out at the fact that you're doing this. But gosh is Gojo such a pretty sight above you, and is his cock pretty. When you've opened up wide enough, he's pressing himself against your tongue and gliding his length down your throat. You can taste the slight salt of his shaft, inhaling the natural scent of him. Under the soap, there's a faint musk.

He's long, taking no time to hit the back of your throat as you try to conceal your gag. Tears already starting to brim around the corner of your eyes, he grabs your ponytail, holding your hair at the band holding your hair together and forcing you down on his cock. No longer can you hold it in, the disgusting cough and gag you let out only exciting Gojo even more. He hums, "Fuck, just what I wanted."

Bucking his hips while he guides your head, he looks down at you, while you're straining yourself to look up at him. It's evident that you're not experienced by the way you cowered when you first got on your knees. You were breathing heavily as your eyes widened, hesitating not because you didn't want this, but because you didn't know what to do. Even now, you're stiff. Body all tensed up as your mouth's just open, doing nothing else but letting him guide you. With a sigh, he pulls you off him.

"Are you done, Gojo-san?" you ask sweetly, eyelashes innocently batting at him. Shaking his head, he responds with a smile 'no,' leading to your disappointment. "Am… Am I not pleasuring you well enough, sir?"

"Don't worry," he pats your cheek. "Soon enough, you'll learn just how I like it—" Backing up slightly on the bed, he spreads his legs out wider as he hunches over in the position that you caught him in. "—C'mon," he beckons with two fingers as he guides his cock to his lips. Follow my lead."

"Yes, yes," Gojo pants as his tongue hangs out, swiping against yours as you're licking at the tip of his cock alongside him. Everytime your lips meet, he goes in for a sweet kiss, watching as your eyes flutter as you lean into the wanton lust. Your moans and hums fill the air as you kiss and lick at his tip, puckered lips taking what you can while Gojo's forehead touches yours. You've grown more brazen and confident under his guidance, his instruction and praises boosting your ego. "Go down and suck on my balls, will ya?"

Tongue painting a stripe as you keep eye contact, your heart still pounds, but the voice inside your head telling you that this is wrong is starting to silence as you give into your own lust. Your knees ache against the hard tile, but you squirm from the arousal pooling in between your legs, only hoping for Gojo to be kind enough to help you rid of the ache like you're doing his. Your noze nuzzles in between the crevice of his shift and his balls as your tongue lulls out, sucking onto one of his testicles. Your spit engulfing it, you hum and moan around him as you watch Gojo suck at his own length. Vibrations shooting down his cock as he feels that familiar stir.

"You're doing so well, girl," he smiles. "Treating me so well."

Your tongue curls underneath, massaging the heavy sacs while you suck. Your eyes close shut as your nails dig into his bed, appeased with his praisal. Alternating between licking down his length and sucking on his balls, you help him bring himself closer to a release as his stomach tightens. "You're gonna make me cum."

"Please do, sir," you say, pulling away to caress the sacs instead, kneading them while you meet him back at his cock head, your next free hand around his shaft. You can hear the soft muffled curse before his legs shake and he's spilling into his own mouth. You do him the favor of pumping the rest of his load inside of him as he gratefully lets it pool at the bottom of his mouth before he's pulling you to his lips. You accept his gift, swallowing his load as you whimper into the kiss, tongue exploring his mouth for whatever remains.

Finally, when the two of you pull away, you're catching your breaths. Grinning from ear to ear, Gojo pats your cheek before standing up and fixing himself properly. Heading to the mirror, he tries to comb his hair with his fingers, trying to not make it is so evident what went on inside this room. "Make sure everything's in top shape, will ya— especially the stench. Wouldn't want us getting caught. I'll make sure to fetch for you later tonight to finish the job."

Watching him swiftly leave his room in his typical manner, you nod. "Yes, sir."

──── ☆ naunamix notes. this was plaguing my mind so bad. i had to finish this at all costs. if you don't think gojo would suck his own dick, you're wrong.

[glamoursize]

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[glamoursize]

[ SCANDALOUS KINKTOBER²⁵ : OCTOBER 8 ] CORRUPTION KINK & LARGE AGE GAP

controversially young girlfriend ── nanami & fem-bodied!reader [ smut ]

nanami kento, a well-rounded actor known for his serious roles, is found kissing upcoming sex symbol & popstar, [your name], and a lot of people have something to say about it.

۶ৎ : actor!nanami kento & popstar!reader, large age gap, corruption kink, dirty talk, size kink & tummy bulge, blowjobs, leg humping, mating press, creampies, breeding kink & talks of pregnancy [ 𝜗ৎ 3.9k words ! ]

☆ tune into newsletter subscriptions ! i had fun writing this one with the leg humping. ugh, i love nanami so bad, y'all just don't get it.

You loved the attention you got— how your fans adored you and your music. You get to put on a performance, belting out your heart to the crowd as they scream on top of their lungs. You’d tease them when a sultry song came on, dropping down to your knees and lulling them over with a finger. Big and beautiful eyes that would gloss over in the light as you crawled over. On the edge of the stage, they pushed through in hopes to get a touch. 

Your revealing outfits were made to entice them, being a tease when one strap would loosen and you’d let it hang. Bending down and showing your ass as the very next day, their lewd and crude comments would surface trending tags. You received backlash for it, being named a slut for it. An “attention whore” the opposers loved to say, and you always made it evident that they were right— that you indeed wanted the attention. It was part of your gimmick, ultimately tying in with the theme of your second album. Unashamed of your sexuality, you owned it. Own yourself and who you are, and in favor, giving your fans a wet dream full of lust and desire. 

So what? You didn’t care. Because by the end of the night when the stadium was closing down and everyone would be ushered out, the facade would be dropped as you flung on a robe and loosened the tight corset that accentuated your breasts. Groaning as you spoke to no one in particular, “Ugh, I need to get this thing off!”

Your head fell back as you rolled your eye, trying to reach for the knot in the back, running to your small dressing room. You were in such a hurry to get away that you nearly rushed past the man that inspired this album, blossoming an entirely new you. “I can help you out if you need.”

It leads you to halt dramatically in your tracks when you hear that familiar voice before feeling those warm hands against your skin, holding onto your shoulders before spinning you around. Your eyes widened as you smiled widely. “Kento, you’re here!”

You say it as if you’re shocked. He had set off an inkling inside your brain that he might stop by to see part of your performance, and whether or not it was an inkling, Nanami didn’t like making promises he couldn’t keep, not wanting to break your innocent little heart. “I told you I was gonna show up, didn’t I?”

“You said you might,” you correct him. “There was a possibility that you wouldn’t.”

“And if there was a possibility that I wouldn’t, then I wouldn’t have told you I’d come,” he retorts with a hearty chuckle, pulling you in by the waist and giving you a chaste kiss. 

When you had first met Nanami, it was at an awards ceremony that you were asked to perform at. You never anticipated bumping into him, causing him to spill a glass of red wine on his suit, but he was so quick to dismiss you, instead sparking up conversation with you instead. He filled you up with so much praise, leading you to invade his personal space. You had the cutest of giggles that he had quickly come to adore and he’s gorgeous now as he was in his more youthful years, his tired brown eyes compelling you to him. 

It was innocent at first when the two of you exchanged numbers, finding occasions to talk as you’d both belt out your problems. Ones that he always found a solution to yours and you were merely a listening ear to his, but there was a comfort in each other that the two of you mutually enjoyed. The rumors came out before the two of you were officially exclusive, paparazzi catching the two of you together on occasion and sparking up the question on your relationship status. But what the two of you used to deny is now out to the public as you have no shame in standing on your tippy toes to meet his height as you pucker up. 

“You were amazing tonight,” he hums, hands dipping lower down to your ass. You giggle, your nose scrunching up cutely. 

“You like to butter me up,” you smile, starting to make your way to your dressing room. “But, thank you. If I knew you were out there watching, I would’ve put in more effort.”

“Ahhh,” he sighs, following you inside and shutting the door behind him. He pulls off his coat, stretching out his shoulders as he flings the garment over the chair. “You don’t have to do all of that for little ole me.”

“Says the man with a couple Oscars under his belt,” you comment, fixing your braids over your shoulders as you turn your back on Nanami. “Can you undo this death trap for me?”

“Anything for you, love,” he hums, hands immediately going to twiddle with the ties of the seductive contraption, pulling out the laces and letting fall loosely around your waist before pulling it over your head. You pull off the pasties you wore as an extra precaution, scrapping them and throwing them towards the small little bin in the corner while simultaneously discarding the corset haphazardly to the couch. Your breasts spilling free as Nanami peaks into the mirror to see the marvelous sight before you’re spinning around. 

That mischievous smile that sparks on your lips whenever you’re in deep want arises as they twinkle. One hand that presses to his chest as you back him down to the couch. How he willingly plops down, welcoming you with open arms when you straddle him in his lap. Oh, how he loves the woman he’s turned you into, remembering how you started off as such a coy little thing in his arms when he got you out of your clothing. How you were so afraid to take things a step further with a man at his age. You had your doubts, but still persisted on. And now? Now, he’s completely ruined you for anyone else, and he’s happy about it. You don’t need anyone else anyway. 

You can feel his breath against your clavicle. You can smell his woodsy scent, something you’ve become addicted to, your body reacting on its own as your back hits his chest. He chuckles when he catches you, watching your eyes flutter shut as his veiny hands come to work at the knots in your shoulder. With an intake of breath, the warmth of him revives you for a moment. “You’re so tense.”

You swear you can feel every part of Nanami in your bones, his entire spirit engulfing you with such a heavy magnitude it causes your heart to pulsate in an unsteady rhythm. And, he knows what he’s doing to you when he adds, voice even lower and raspier, “We need to loosen you up.”

And you know he’ll do that in all of the right ways. 

Though you’ve explained it to him before, there’s still a look of disappointment when there’s still a layer to you when he’s trying to drag down the lacy panties of your get-up. The stockings that are your exact skin tone clings to you. Once in pristine shape slowly gets torn as the sharp and jagged edges of Nanami’s nails creates tears and holes within the elastic fabric. You can hear it, and despite the protests meandering around in your head, you moan. 

The stubble below his chin sends a sensation down your spine that has your back arching, the involuntary shiver putting you closer to him as your nails dig into his back. The once defined muscles that the television used to showcase— Nanami's glossy skin would dazzle in the light and his protruding veins called in all the female viewers— have now softened, but you know the underlying strength within. It has your heart pacing as you ground yourself closer to the one you call your man. 

The disappointment women beyond your age have publicly voiced, masking it as concerned as they shamelessly talked about you online. News reporters and phony bloggers that had so many opinions. Oh, how they'd find distaste in how you found joy in your partner. Your pert nipples press into Nanami’s chest, rubbing against the fabric as you moan. You can feel it, the sleek slick starting to puddle deeper and deeper into the crotch of your stockings. Your clit tickled against it and stimulated even more. Hiking up a leg to wrap around his waist, you press yourself against him. 

Heat suddenly encapsulates you as you nudge Nanami towards the couch. With a strong grip, Nanami pulls you onto his lap. He grunts at the drop of your weight, but easily adjusts you exactly where he wants. Eyes full of lust and want for you, the corners of his lips curve upwards as his chest rumbles. “Look at my pretty little girl—”

The media portrayed Nanami a man of very few words, commending him for his stoicism and how he didn’t need to say much. They praised him for being a man of very high caliber, but with you. He always had to say a lot about you, and it always made your heart flutter. “—With your breasts spilled out, nipples all pert and erect just for me.”

He rips at the stockings some more, the waist of it now too loose for your figure as he forcefully drags it down and off of your frame. He does this while kissing your chest. In between your cleavage, you feel his warm and wet lips against your skin. Hums of gratification and wet kisses vibrate against you while you’re kicking away at the ruined stockings. Now, your bare pussy’s pressed against the cotton of Nanami’s bottoms and you can’t help yourself, but grind against him. Each grunt that falls from him becomes less controlled and more animalistic as his fingers dig into the fatty flesh of your ass. “And grinding yourself down on me so wonderfully.”

Your eyes glisten from the praise, cheeks rising as your hips move so languidly against him. But, he darkens as his hold only gets tighter and forces your chest onto his. He’s so dangerously close and your heart pounds against your chest at the swift change in him, something you can never get used to. His voice gets lower, deeper, when he asks, “You ever think about doing this with someone else? With someone—”

“No,” you’re quick to interject, shaking your head as you continue grinding against the one you shamelessly call yours. “Never, Kento. You’re mine.”

You’re mine. Not ‘I’m yours.’ He’s not given more time to bask in those two words when you continue. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.” Your clit’s pressed into the fabric of his bottoms, strings of your juices connected as your sweet cunt pulsates. You start working at his top, pulling it off him with such need before your lips latch onto his. And it’s then that Nanami loses control, knowing that he’s got you right where he wanted. 

He’s subconsciously known all this time. Taking his time to break you into the girl— no, woman— he wanted you to become. You bask in the spotlight, performing for countless people that hold secret desires for you, but in your mind, he’s infiltrated every corner and crevice of your thoughts. From a girl who held so much fear sexually to now becoming a woman who proudly claims him as your own. That sparkle in your eye is only for him and if there was an opportunity for you to run, it’s not there anymore— your body solely craves him and only him. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” There’s a small tremor in your voice that confirms everything within him, making him grin from ear-to-ear. His brown eyes brighten as he chuckles, grabbing you by your chin and his teeth pull at your bottom lips. His voice sounds gravelly and raspy when he says, “Good.”

His fingers dig into your cheeks as he pulls you for a kiss. Your hands trail from his chest to the belt of his pants, pulling at the buckle and relinquishing the leather from its hold around him. You reach to palm him through the slacks, feeling how he’s hard underneath you. And still, he kisses you, but with much more vigor and want that before. He swallows each and everyone of your moans, capturing your desire for him in between his lips as you sit ontop of him, bare in all of your vulnerable glory. 

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his clothed erection. Rubbing down the shaft as you rut those pretty hips of yours. “Why don’t you show me how much you need me instead of messing around?”

You giggle, the corner of your lips creasing while you smile. The shake of your head is faint, but Nanami notices. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Nanami breathes out a snort. “You love to wear out this old man, huh?”

“If I don’t wear you out, that means I’m not doing my job properly.”

Slowly, you’re crawling out of his lap and kneeling on the ground. Your legs are wrapped around one of Nanami’s legs while you finally undo the buttons of his pants, tugging them down as his hips rise from the couch. He huffs when they fall back down, kicking off his bottoms. 

Your clit’s pressed against his shin. You grind yourself shamelessly as you bend to shove your face in between his legs. You inhale deeply, pressing your nose against the evident boner and feeling the twitch of his cock underneath the undergarment. You hum as your tongue lulls out, going to grip him through the underwear. Saliva dripping from the tip of your tongue, the pink muscle creates a bigger stain than the precum that’s already been leaking. The natural taste of him excites you as your eyes go to meet his brown ones. 

His eyelids hang heavy as he watches you, marveling in the fact that he’s trained you so well. He can feel how your pussy pulsates with such want as you genuinely find pleasure in giving him pleasure. Your juices dance down his leg, getting tangled in his leg hairs and absorbed into his socks, but you keep bucking your hips against him. 

Finally, your fingers tug at the hem of his underwear and free his needy cock. Subconsciously, your eyes always widen at the sheer size of him, his length falling midthigh— cock so heavy, it can’t even stand. Legs tensing around him, your fingers dig into the meat of his thigh. “Oh, you’ll be fine,” Nanami assures. “I’ve trained you to take me.”

“Doesn't stop me from being mesmerised,” you say before your lips wrap around his mushroom tip. A dusty pink tainted in precum kisses the tip of your tongue, tasting the slight salt of Nanami as you start to salivate. Your hips buck harder onto the man, feeling so needy as your clit rubs against the hair of his legs. Your hips become more rhythmic as you start to move, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as friction eggs you on. Your pussy clenches as you keep forth, your wanting hole gushing of slick as Nanami’s pre continues to stain your tongue. 

You look so pretty like this. The gloss of your lips no longer shines, but your pretty mascara is still intact. Don't worry, Nanami will soon fix that. 

Tongue flattening on the shaft of his cock, it tickles the fragile skin and the grown man has to restrain himself from whimpering. With a sharp intake of breath, his body tenses up as his dull nails dig into the couch. You drag your tongue slow and languidly, cheeks hollowing around him as you hum. You maintain eye contact, your eyelashes batting out devilishly up at him as your back arches and your posture straightens out. One knee digging into the side of the couch and the other slowly rising from the marble-tiled ground, your face inches closer to being stuck in the crevice of his thighs as you take all of him. You can feel his cock touching the back of your throat, and in any better position, Nanami would be able to see just how it bulges out.

He huffs, his chest rising and falling steadily as he watches you take him. “I remember when I first got you like this—” He groans in his chuckle, a faint smile forming as he shifts on the couch. “—Such a shy and sweet thing. I don’t know how you were able to perform prior to me.”

Pulling away with a soft pop, drool following like a fragile spiderweb. “Good thing you came around to shape me up just right.”

“You’re right,” he smiles, then with two simple taps on his knees, he motions you up. “C’mon, doll. No more playtime.”

You pout, and while you do, you obey. “Aww, you’re so boring.”

He chuckles. “You’ll have more fun right up here.”

A string of arousal follows your pussy, breaking when you’re back on his lap. A finger dips down to your heat as his other hand grips out to hold your waist down, his digits dance in between your legs. You bite down your bottom lip as his fingers swipe through your folds before bringing them to your lips to taste. Your lips wrap around them, your chest rumbling while you watch Nanami watch you. “You made such a mess on me, love. It’s my turn to make a mess of you.”

“Please, Kento,” you mewl, your chest pressing into him. With a chaste kiss, your eyes plead for more. And no matter how much he tries withholding from you, he could never for too long. The teasing was your job, his was to give. 

Before you could blink, you’re flipped on your back and Nanami’s knees are in between your legs. He presses it down as you shimmy yourself in a comfortable position, a mewl falling from your lips as you do so.

With him above, he casts a shadow over you. Your hole clenches with greed as his cock falls, hitting at his thigh. Reaching for it, you whine and beckon for Nanami to get closer. “Kento—nngh— I need you.”

 Grabbing his length, the sensation does as you wish. Nanami succumbing for a quick moment and his arms falter, a mere inch away, his cock pressing against the inbetween of your thighs as you stroke him so slowly. However, just as he falters, he recovers with a near shudder. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Need you take care of me— to take care of this sweet pussy.”

“My sweet pussy, right?”

“Right,” you assure, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. “Need to cream around your cock, and make you cum, Kento.”

“That's my good girl,” he finally sighs before pressing against your cunt, mushroom tip nudging your hole open before its warm welcome. Arching your back, you feel the heat of Nanami’s chest as you feel dwarfed by his sheer size. Shoulders that flex and contract as his veiny arms hold his weight as he sinks inside of you. And as he sinks and sinks deeper into, your walls gushing out your sweet nectar, you moan in anticipation. 

When he's fully sheathed, he takes a moment to bask in your heat. Nanami’s cock twitches while he stares down at you, your mouth shaped in an ‘O’. When you look up at him, it's filled with so much love and adoration for him. Just like when the two of you first met.

And just like the time the two of you had first gotten intimate. 

You always had that look on your face. Nanami loves it. 

He revels in it. Like now, it feeds his ego as he fucks your cunt, the sound of your wet pussy echoing the walls as you moan and whine against his chest. The repetitive plap, plap, plap is music to his ears as he feels himself drill inside you without an inch of remorse. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall but never do. 

“Kento— ohmigosh!” You cry out, a squeal leaving your lips. “Fuck, you feel so good!”

“And you're doing so good, doll,” he praises. “You're taking my cock so well.”

“Like— Like I always do?” You manage to ask between the growing hiccups, hands holding onto the expanse of his wide shoulders. And Nanami nods, leaning down to kiss you. “Yes,” he breathes. “Like you always do.”

Your moans get drawn out when you're close to cumming, Nanami has noted. Eyes shutting, you tend to fall in a trance while your body tenses up. And while he wants to give you the world and more, he's selfish and wants more of you. Unsheathing himself from you, he doesn't give you a moment to whine. No, he quickly pushes your legs up. Knees pressed to your chest and accentuating your breasts while your ankles are above your head. When he drops down to kiss you once more, inserting himself into your warmth, he groans into your lips. 

A string of saliva follows when he pulls away and you're mewling all over again. The same momentum of thrusts follow, but your eyes roll back this time. He's deeper and hitting that gummy spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck!” you cry. 

“‘M taking care of your pussy just like you wanted me to, right, doll?” 

You weakly nod, walls clenching around Nanami in fear of losing him. His tip kisses that special spot inside of you, and you're trying so hard to conceal the tears threatening to slip. One manages to break free, however. “Can— Can feel you in my tummy, baby. You're fucking your pussy so well.”

“Mhm,” Nanami hums. “Taking good care of my pussy. Making sure this fucking cunt's well taken care of.”

“Yeahyeahyeah,” you gasp. “Taking care of it so, so good— Fuck, I'm almost close again!”

“Cum, doll,” he groans. “I'm almost there. Might just… Might just breed this pussy while we're at it.”

Nanami revels in the idea, imagining his seed taking and your belly getting swollen. “How'd you like that? Making your stomach all round and ensuring you're mine forever.”

You moan sweetly at the idea, them getting higher. “Want me to perform on stage for you?”

“Yeah,” Nanami sighs, feeling his balls tighten at the sheer idea of it. “People'll definitely know you're mine then. Shut those bastards straight up.”

“Yes, Kento! I want that!” You cry out. Your enthusiasm calls for his orgasm, and with a choked moan, he spills his seed deep inside you. You pant as your pussy flutters, your pussy fluttering as you cum around his leaking length. “Fuuuck, make me pregnant please.”

Nanami grunts and groans as his body stills, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pull his body down on you. Feeling the heavy weight of him as he's still inside of you, whatever left of his orgasm pressed inside while a white ring's properly formed around the base of his shaft. He pants, blonde hair disheveled before his head raises to whisper in your ear— a promise. “Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of then, too.”

[glamoursize]

scenic drive ノ sukuna ryomen

sukuna doesn't usually take pity on pathetic women, but there's something about you ── you've received a five-star rating, even despite all your crying.

or, sukuna fucks you in the back seat of his car to help you forget about your ex-boyfriend.

( 🎙 ) naunamix tags. (asshole) uber driver!sukuna ryomen & heartbroken!reader, fem-bodied!reader, pwp, bickering & banter, dacryphilia, tear licking, breast play, car sex, rough sex, mating press, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, photo taking, etc. [ ｡𖦹°‧ 2.2k words. ]

──── ☆ naunamix notes. scenic drive by khalid, ari lennox, and jid is the inspo for this fic. i need sukuna so bad after writing this fic tee bee ayche.

You jump into the car with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Sniffling, you strap yourself in as you don’t bother to acknowledge the Uber driver. You're exhausted.

Not that Sukuna cares. You not giving habitual formalities is the very least of his concerns. You're his last ride for the night before he decides to head back home and into the comfort of his own bed. The only thing he asks, however, is, “Are you [your name]?”

With a wet inhale, you nod. “Yeah, and you're—”

“Yeah,” he answers before you can finish, pulling out of the driveway and swiping ‘picked up [your name].’ Eyes focused on the road, he doesn't see the way your eyebrows scrunch up and how you're now sitting up in your seat. “I didn't even finish.”

“If you were so concerned with your safety, you wouldn't have jumped in and gotten yourself all buckled up before asking for my name,” Sukuna retorts.

“Well,” you splutter. “Obviously I'm not in the best condition emotionally to be thinking coherently. The least you could've done was be patient with me.”

“My patience runs out after six,” Sukuna remarks. “Next time, be more thoughtful when you're ordering an Uber.”

“You're the one who chose to accept this ride so late,” you snap, face heated with anger while this shithole drives you home.

“And you're the one that just got dumped by your shitty boyfriend,” he responds, finally silencing you—for a matter of seconds.

His jab at your relationship cuts through your chest sharply, and you're crying all over again. He inwardly groans, a hard grunt accidentally escaping as he looks through the rearview mirror at you. You look so pathetic crying like this, he finds it comical. But, he should think twice about what he says. After all, your ratings affect his money. “Is the guy really worth crying about?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

“Hey,” Sukuna throws up one hand with the other on the steering wheel. “I'm only trying to help.”

Rolling your eyes, you click your tongue as you look up. You've cried so much you're starting to get a migraine. “Probably because you feel guilty for being a douchebag.”

“Nah,” he admits. “I just need at least three stars from you.”

You can't help but snort at his candor, the corners of your lips curving up. However, you hope he doesn't see it. “At least you're honest.”

A ghost of a smile appears on Sukuna before vanishing with the wind. There's now a comfortable silence shared within the drive, but he can still see those tears falling down your face. It irks Sukuna, watching you wallow in your self-pity over a man that probably wasn't good for you anyway.

Before he can think properly, he's driving in the opposite direction of where the GPS is telling him. And before you can properly look up and speak, he's shutting you up. “Don't worry, I'm not kidnapping you. Just… taking you somewhere I know you'll feel better. We'll be taking the more scenic route.”

He has taken you somewhere that will make you feel better, that is. However, you can't find yourself enjoying the view anymore. You could barely see the pretty flowers anyway. No, your attention falls onto the man you swore you hated the moment you stepped into the vehicle. And your attention solely focuses on how he's making you feel. 

Your vision is blurry, tears clouding your pupils as your back’s pressed into the leather-clad seats. Your shirt’s thrown down on the car floor alongside your jeans shorts, and your bra’s pushed up over your breasts. With every thrust, they jump and jiggle. You whine and mewl with every other plap sound of Sukuna’s cock plunging deep inside your cunt. He did this to get you to shut up and stop your crying, but here you are, weeping while he’s buried inside of you. But, at least, now you look cute doing it.

You cling onto his neck, nails digging into his skin as you hold on. Sukuna has to clench his jaw to stop himself from moaning, but nothing prevents the animalistic groan that falls through the parked vehicle. Deep inside this part of the meadow, no one should be around to see how the car shakes and rumbles with every plow of his cock. With the car windows fogged up, not even the moon can witness how well this stranger is ravishing your body. 

You can feel how deep he is inside you, his girthy cock stretching you out in a way your ex never could. Your pussy clenches around him, threatening to lock him inside you for good with the way that you feel. Your face scrunches up and your tears prickle down your face finally. Finding the sight so enthralling, Sukuna’s body moves on its own when he leans down to lick them up. The salt spurring on something ravenous and even more feral. Those vermillion eyes turn shades darker into a maroon. 

You thought he was already being rough with you, knowing that your hips will be bruised the morning you wake, but he shows how well he’s restrained himself until now. Hips pulled back and only the head of his cock inside you now, he pulls you down in a better position where he can obliterate you. Hiking up your legs and pressing them to your chest, when he sheathes himself inside of you. It’s a different kind of ache you’re not prepared for, but willingly accept. 

You gasp as he manages to go faster and deeper, his big arms wrapped around your waist and in a bruising grip. Your pussy pulsates as he hits that sweet spot inside of you, over and over and over again. Tears coming down in a stream as you can’t say a coherent word, babbling and whining out like a baby. Plapplaplapplap sounding through the entirety of the car as the vehicle shakes nonstop. 

You’re convinced he’s a monster of some kind, able to keep up such rigor as he fucks into you. With every tear drop, his tongue is out to lick it up, his voice getting deeper as he tells you to cry some more. “You look so pretty f’me, looking so pitiful. That why you came into my car like that—fuck— looking for some attention?”

You can’t answer, only wailing out as your nails dig in harder. He grunts from the pain, his nails digging into the leather seats he holds onto for stability. He chuckles darkly. “Well, you got it now.”

When you feel that heat inside your stomach, you squeal out in desperation. “I’m gonna cum! Pleease— fuck!”

“Shit,” Sukuna curses. “Paint my cock white, baby. Make a mess of it.”

You can feel that band snapping inside of you, the heat covering the entirety of your body as you let yourself go. You tense up your entire body, but Sukuna doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm as the base of his cock has a white ring around it. You drip onto his seats, creating a reminder for him for the very next day. His pace doesn’t let go until he feels himself twitch and without asking, he buries himself deep inside of you to drop off his load. Your pussy pulsates as you’re off your high, and he’s breaking his rhythm. Clit sensitive, you whine and moan around him as you feel him spurt his seed inside of you. 

When he’s finally done, he’s about to pull you off, when you stop him. Grip tightening around his neck as your eyes flutter open to consciousness. There’s a set determination in his eyes when you say, “Lemme ride you.”

And fuck, you look so hot saying it that he doesn’t hesitate to flip you over. A maniacal grin forming as he straightens up his posture and fixes you on his lap. “Just make sure you tip me extra for special requests.”

That snide part of you returns, eyes glinting up as you retort, “What—like a prostitute?”

Hand planted on your ass, he squeezes hard. “And here I am trying to make you feel better.”

Hand going to wrap around his thick shaft, he hisses at the contact. Your hands are cold and your fingers barely meet around to make a full circumference. You roll your eyes at his statement, “Was it truly being genuine, or you wanting to get your dick wet?”

“You ask too many questions for a girl wanting to ride me.” Finally, the two of you are on the same page. You giggle, a smile beaming on your face, “You’re right.”

Aligning yourself onto his cock, you sink down on him as your arms wrap around the expanse of his shoulders. Pressing your bare chest to his, your knees dig into the leather as you position yourself to bounce on his length. Your moans soon echo through the car as Sukuna groans. He just fucked you, yet your pussy wraps around his length just right. Fuck, he can’t get enough of you, and you him. 

Your pace quickens with your greed, your sensitive walls fluttering around him as your head falls into the crook of his shoulder. Sukuna’s inhumanely large hands grip onto your waist, fingers pressing into your skin. He tries to withhold himself from taking the power from you, letting you grind and gyrate yourself onto him, but with every passing second that your greedy little pussy’s enveloping his cock with your orgasm-coated slick, he finds himself more gluttonous. It’s in a matter of no time that his hips move for themselves and his hands are put to work on making you move for himself. 

Again are you used as a ragdoll for his own pleasure, but fuck, it feels so good. You assist him, your hips twisting and grinding down to meet his harsh pelvis fucking up into you. The wet sound of your pussy creating sloshes as your juices drip down from your pussy lips and to his balls. You create marks within his skin, giving him a gift to sport around in the gym the next day, and he gives you the feeling of sore legs that will make you wobble back home when he’s finally finished with you. 

With every jump, he’s met with your breasts in his face. Wanting to see you come undone, he grabs a hold of one of them, stuffing it into his mouth and biting down harshly. Your body tenses up as you wail in pain, but never stops him. Instead, you press your chest deeper into his mouth as the wetness of his saliva coats your nipples. He then takes the next, playing with the dark nub of your breast and pinching down on it. He alternates between sucking and biting, and pinching and rubbing, alleviating the pain and then starting it all over again. 

But it all proves to be worth it when that familiar coil returns to your stomach and your pussy pulsates like a beating heart around his shaft, making him twitch deep inside. A “shit” reverberates off of both of your tongues, you gasping out as Sukuna bites down around your breast twice as hard that you fear that he’s going to draw blood. Squeezing down on his shoulder, you cry out as your body shudders. Your vision goes blurry as a stray tear falls and your bottom half quivers. 

“Fu-fuuuuck!” you croak, feeling a splash as your legs shake and you grow weak. Your hold around Sukuna weakens as you fall weakly against his chest. He licks at the bite mark he’s created, groaning deeper as he watches through hooded eyes that you’re squirting around his cock. Pumping you with his cum, he grabs a hold of your hips, fucking you through his orgasm in a messy beat. Still, you cum and spurt out like a fire hose in an erratic mess that has his chest vibrating with joy. 

You’re panting as heat radiates off of Sukuna’s body. There’s a silence that collapses inside, only hearing each other’s breathing before you’re rising from his chest and reaching for your clothes. Fixing your bra, you see the bite marks, he’s made and subconsciously clench around his cock again. Squeezing your ass in response, he stops you. “I don’t think you’re up for a third round, so get off.”

“Wow,” you sigh, throwing on your skirt. “Even after all of that, you still haven’t developed some manners.” 

“Nothing about me fucking you was going to change that,” Sukuna snorts. Rolling your eyes, when you reach for your shorts, your phone falls out. 

“I’m gonna give you a poor rating, you piece of shit,” you say, knowing that he’ll probably try and stop you. Proven right, he snatches it right out of your hand and switching it on. “Hey! You’re so predictable—” You try to grab it—“Give me my phone!”

With one hand, he’s able to fight you off, pushing you down to lay on the backseat once more. With one arm, he holds you down and forces your legs open with his knees. “Hold. Still,” he grunts, as he turns on your camera.

Seeing the flash light up, you continue to fight as your brows furrow. “What—What are you doing?”

He snaps some pictures, the shutter sound going off as he smiles. He’s taken a few of his cum-coated cock in between your pussy lips. “Giving your ex something to remember you by. What’s his contact name?”

Immediately your body stills. “You could’ve just said that,” you huff. Telling him his contact name, you grab a hold of cock, sinking down on it again. “C’mon, take some better pictures of me. I wouldn’t mind a third round, either.”

— who would be the ex in the scenario?

gojo satoru.

nanami kento.

geto suguru.

toji fushiguro.

other (comment)

Voting ended onOct 11, 2025

[glamoursize]

[ SCANDALOUS KINKTOBER²⁵ : OCTOBER 1 ] ANAL SEX & HEAVY DEGREDATION

sex tape leaked ── sukuna ryoumen & fem-bodied!reader [ smut ]

sukuna ryomen was praised for being a brilliant director, commended for the beautiful work he put out. the same thing should be said for a sex tape, right?

۶ৎ : director!sukuna ryoumen, actress!reader, toxic relationship, revenge porn ( dubious consent ), anal sex, heavy degredation, dacryphilia, manhandling, slapping, spit, pussy teasing, etc. [ 𝜗ৎ 3.2k words ! ]

☆ tune into newsletter subscriptions ! here's the first installation of a scandalous kinktober, rahh ! this was one of my favorites to write. idk something about sukuna and anal that speaks to me.

Stomping out of the club, you’re a fuming mess as you stagger on your footing, the heel of your shoe getting stuck in the deep cracks. However, you don’t falter off of your getaway from the grade-A asshole that is Sukuna Ryomen. You can feel his presence, hear the heavy sounds of his feet trudging after you as you storm off. “Stop fucking following me!”

“You’re being so immature.” You hate the nonchalant tone he takes, keeping a steady pace as you’re trying to get as far away from him. You ignore the cameras that’s blasting, taking shot after shot of the two of you, ready to post about what they witnessed online for millions to read about. 

He’s always made you feel like you were just overreacting, that each problem that arose, you were blowing it out of proportion. Each time, you managed to let him persuade you that it was true, that every trial that showcased itself was just a trivial little thing and that, no, he never did cheat on you. Or, he didn’t aimlessly spend thousands of dollars on something neither of you needed. However, this time, you had more sense. This time you were going to stand your ground and call it quits because you’re tired. You’re so fucking tired. You can’t let him get away with this yet again.

“Don’t tell me I’m acting immature,” you shout at him, tears streaming down your eyes in a fury. Stomping towards him, you push at his chest hard, but he’s unmoving. You hate it. You hate it so much. How he can always get a reaction out of you, but you could never. You hated it, you hated it, you hated it. 

You hated how you let him sweet talk you into quitting your job at the diner, forcing you into the heavy light and life of stardom, trapping you in the toxic highlight of Hollywood and keeping you stuck with him for these lonesome years. The glitz and the glamour wasn’t all that it was said to be and it was because of him— the perpetrator of your pain. “You don’t get to treat me like shit and then tell me I’m being immature!”

Your outburst is all caught on camera as the paparazzi takes a video, filming everything right then and there as your tears are caught on screen. You should feel embarrassed, but gosh, how much more pain did you need to go through? “I’ve endured your bullshit for years all because you promised me a better future, and my stupid self fell in love with you as a result! This is all your fault!”

Sukuna hated this. Hated how you were falling out of his grasp. But like clockwork, you’d come back to him. That’s what he figured this was. This was just like every other time; this was just like every other outburst you had. It’s why he let you continue this way, because it always panned out the same. However, there was a bad feeling in his stomach. Each confrontation you had with him was in private confines. Every time it drew near to a public outburst, you made sure to conceal your emotions until the two of you were in solitude. But, no. Sukuna still convinced himself that maybe you were taking another route, that this break would be temporary just like the others. You’d rush home and lock yourself up in the guest room, giving him the silent treatment. In two to three days top, you’d climb back underneath the covers and let him take care of you. 

However, after your public tantrum, you were nowhere to be found. You weren’t in any of the guest rooms and a lot of your stuff was missing. However, the icing on the cake was the text message he got a couple days later.

You: I’ll be coming to get the rest of my stuff later today. Don’t be an asshole.

It made him realize that you were serious. But, you needed to realize something as well. That this invisible contract you had signed meant you were bound to him for life. You weren’t going anywhere without his permission. 

—

FAMOUS DIRECTOR, SUKUNA RYOMEN, AND FAMOUS ACTRESS, YOUR NAME’S SEX TAPE HAS BEEN LEAKED?!

By Geto Suguru | Uploaded on Wednesday, October 1, 2025 (3:00 PM EST)

Everyone was shocked when [Your Name] had publicly broken down in front of hundreds last week, making her break up apparent for the world. The typically well-kept actress was visibly distraught as she was brought to tears when her ex-boyfriend had said, “You’re being immature.”

The young actress had insinuated that the director wasn’t what he seemed. Always positioning himself in a light that reflected well on him, plenty of people had always reported that he was a decent man and was well respected throughout the industry. After videos have gone around about how [Your Name] was allegedly in pain for all those years of their relationship, the legitimacy comes into question as people question who’s innocent in this case. However, just as quickly as their breakup has caused gossip and suspecting glances, a video tape was anonymously uploaded online to Twitter (or X) as it shows a short clip of [Your Name] and Sukuna in very vulgar and raunchy positions. The full tape was then released on porn sites for everyone to view. 

It seems like [Your Name]’s team has been trying to take them down, but each effort is proven useless as they’re always uploaded right back on the sites. Some are speculating that it’s actually Sukuna doing this to tarnish his ex’s name after the public display of humiliation, but others are forming other conspiracies to clear up his name. Either way, it doesn’t look good for either of them. Whose team are you on? [Your Name]’s or Sukuna’s?

@userD98jacd on twitter — https://www.pornhub.com/sukunaxreadersleakedsextape 

Sukuna was never a gentle lover. At first, you told yourself that you can handle that— that you didn’t need soft affection, only the reassurance that he did love you. However, you should’ve known the truth when the two of you first met and he was shamelessly undressing you with his eyes. There was a deep reverence in his voice when he came up and approached you, caressing your face softly despite the roughness of his palm. He had you under his spell in a matter of seconds, his thick thumb probing at your bottom lip and flickering at it. 

He barely had to do any work. No utterance of a work and no kind gestures to coax you back to his hotel room, you simply followed. He grinned, perfect teeth shining under the bright lights as his sharp canines growled at you. That was your first warning, where that nagging sound came to mind in hopes to save you. You flushed that call signal down the drain and followed him back to his hotel room. 

He told you that he liked recording those he slept with and it still didn’t deter you away. Instead, arousal pooled into the cotton padding of your underwear when you told him you didn’t care. And when he set up the camera, the red light flashing right in your direction, your body didn’t stutter when he came sauntering over like a predator. You simply fixed yourself up higher on the bed and smiled. 

Grabbing your ankle, he pulled you down with force. With your chest rising and falling, you inhaled deeply. You can feel the heat of Sukuna on you, his mouth inches away from his neck as his lips grazed up your jaw and to the shell of your ear. “‘M not gentle either.”

Still panting, you utter, “Didn’t think you were.”

You were wearing a nice silk dress that stopped at your mid-thigh, a deep shade of red— the color of Sukuna’s eyes. He drank in the sight as his eyes roamed your body in greed, savoring the taste of you in his mind before his body would. Loose spaghetti straps that he tugged down, Sukuna pulled with a force that made you gasp. “This dress— it’s expensive.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” he assured, the sharp tear echos through the hotel room before his bulking body dips forward to your neck. The fire of his body vibrates against your skin as you inhale, arms wrapping around the expanse of his neck as his lips attacted your jugular. He sucked and licked, eliciting sweet and lustrous moans from you as his rough, calloused hands explored you. Pulling down your dress, he felt the warmth of your body while you shivered. 

Pert nipples that pressed against his clothed chest, they rub on the fabric as your juices continue to stain your panties in your ecstasy. Your hips rise, pressing your heat into his pelvis as he keeps you trapped underneath him. He kicks off his shoes while the heel of yours dig into the back of his calf, but too caught up the moment, the pain dissipates in a matter of seconds. He hoists you up higher onto the bed, pulling away to slap you. 

The deep intake of breath leaves you locked in place as the sting makes your face heat up. He doesn’t give you a moment to recover before the slap echos the room and caught right on camera. “Such a filthy little slut,” he chastises. “So desperate for dick that you accepted the first man to give you attention.”

He laughed like the devil— deep and graveling on his chest. If you imagined hard enough, the room in shaking in his presence. His strong veiny hand traverses to your neck, squeezing down on it. Eyes starting to prickle in tears, Sukuna smiles maniacly. “What an attention whore…”

You squeak, eyes widening in glossy beauty as your chest arches from the bed. 

“You like this, huh?” Sukuna snorts. “Being diminished down to a useless whore. So naughty.”

The more and more he talks to you like this, the more heat that courses through your body. Your sticky juices seeping through the fabric as Sukuna’s huge body presses into yours. You can feel his hips buck into you, the press of his erection making you mewl in want. Your lower body moves involuntarily in the hopes for friction before Sukuna’s hand comes swinging again. A singular tear sheds along with a choked up sob. 

“Keep still,” Sukuna warns. “I don’t repeat myself, okay?”

You meekly nod. “Okay.”

“And call me, sir.”

“Okay, sir.”

“At least you’re obedient,” Sukuna notes. “Fer now.”

With your dress disregarded, your bra follows next, finding home on the ground as Sukuna ruts his tailored suit into your heat. Pelvis moving in a moderate motion, crimson eyes stare you down as his well manicured fingers grab ahold of your jaw and forces your mouth open. Sukuna puckers his lips before a trail of spit slowly descends into your mouth, your eyes fluttering to watch as you open wider. Your chest vibrates as you moan, humming in delight as you try to keep yourself still. 

The sweet motions of him pressed against you has your heart racing as your nipples stay erect in display of your lustruous want. You’re breathing heavily, eyes still glistening with such heavy obedience and desire for more. One hand’s around the back of your neck as he keeps you still in warning as he keeps teasing your pussy with his dry humping. You’re too scared to say anything, but you’re so desperate for more that you whimper and whine. 

So many people had reported Sukuna to be such an amazing director. A hardass, yes, but his movies always came out with great reviews. Was it the same with the sex? You’ve forgotten about the camera that’s propped up and recording, what seems to be nothing yet everything at the same time. 

“I can tell how much you want me,” Sukuna grins, vermillion eyes locked onto yours. Though he was intimidating, he was also so enticing. You didn’t want to look away. “Can feel it when I’m nuzzled up in your pussy like this.”

Your moans are high-pitched when Sukuna presses all of his body weight into you, his erection teasing your clit as your arousal escapes your panties. Both of you are sure that there’s a wet patch that not only follows the laced undergarments, but on his suit as well. “I don’t think you deserve to be fucked though. At least… not your pussy. What d’ya think?”

You don’t answer, unsure if the question was rhetorical or not. Two more strikes against your delicate face. “I asked you a question.”

And in those red-colored pupils, you could see your own ending— a sweet one. “I want— need you, sir. I need to be filled.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “‘Nd I need to have my filling.”

Size determines speed, but Sukuna defies science with how quick he moves. Flipping you over with such ease and a quickness, it has you out of breath when you feel your stomach pressed into the mattress. He drags down your panties, ripping it in the process, to reveal your fluttering hole. Sticky and translucent juices starting to seep to your inner thighs, you wait in anticipation as Sukuna watches in greed. His thick thumb presses against your dark clit, seeing how your arousal bubbles before chuckling darkly. “I don’t think it’s gonna be in this hole though.”

He rubs against your sensitive nerve, already hearing how he’s making you feel and further boosting his ego. His thumb dips into your entrance without warning, causing you to cry out in pleasure as he stills his thick digit inside for a minute. His gaze is transfixed on something else however, another puckered hole in his sight— something worth taking. When his thumb is dosed in enough of your need, he presses it to your asshole. 

You rise from the bed at the feeling. “What’re you doing?”

“What?” Sukuna asks, other hand pressing you back onto your stomach. “Never had someone take you in the ass?”

With a shake of your head, you say no as you turn your neck to look back in worry. You look up at Sukuna, whose eyes are on yours. That slight unease that you feel inside of you is your next warning, but you shove that down, too. You trust Sukuna. “Ah, don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

His thumb pressed against the puckered hole, a next trail of spit stringing down between your ass. His next hand grips the fatty flesh, spreading your cheeks further apart as the cool saliva glides down. He spreads it to your asshole, making it glisten before he attempts to enter it. Feeling the pressure of it, your stomach clenches from anticipation. Your entire body tenses up as you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the intrusion begin. 

You don’t realize that you’ve been holding your breath until a sharp pain rings through your ass, a high-pitched squeal escaping you as your eyes shoot open and a sob ripples through your throat. 

There’s no give and take with Sukuna, only taking. When your hand snakes in between your legs in the hopes of finding some relief, he swats your hand away. “Whores don’t deserve to play with their pussy. You only accept what I give you.”

He’s a selfish man, thumbing at your asshole and imagining the carnage he’ll do to your body. A maniacal grin that he can’t see when he switches his thumb to two fingers, his index and middle. A sweet bottle of lube in the next hand to further assist with the stretch, but will you ever be able to accommodate for his size? Did you really take into precautions what you would be dealing with when seducing a man like Sukuna? 

By the time that he’s unbuckling his pants, shimmying out of the tailored slacks and underwear, your asshole’s glistening and clenching around air. You try to remain still as possible, but your hips sway at the slightest, wanting more. Sukuna’s cock, gifted in size and length, hangs down. Too heavy to stand against his abdomen, he lifts it. His tip is already stained in sticky pre as he rubs on it, giving his cock a few good strokes before reaching for the bottle of lube. Soon it shines under the dim light, resembling fragile porcelain as he presses himself into you. 

The camera watches, catching everything on screen in the distance. It catches how you moan and mewl out as you feel his heavy length against you. You jut out your hips towards him, a squeal following behind as he slaps your ass. Then, the press of his tip onto the tight entrance, what the people who’ve viewed your sex tape is waiting for, happens. Your face twists and contorts in pain as Sukuna eases himself inside slowly. Sukuna hisses at the feeling, “Shit, a whore like you shouldn’t be so tight. I’ll make sure of it by the time I’m done with you.”

Sukuna has an inkling of generosity, gifting you slow and easy thrusts to help you get accommodated. However, just as quick as they’ve come is how quick they end before his length is unsheathed and leaving you empty. He grips your hair, pulling you to his chest before growling in your ear, “You take what I give you, okay?”

When you don’t answer as fast as he’d like, he tugs on your hair, your neck pulled back into the crevice of his neck. Quickly, you nod. “Yes! Yes, sir.”

Then he lets go, pushing you back into your previous position before snarling a “good.”

Entering you again, he keeps to his word of not being a gentleman. And you keep to yours by staying obedient. Tears stream down your eyes at the invasion, moaning and sobbing to yourself as you can’t restrain your voice anymore. “Sooo good,” you drawl. “Y’feel so good!”

Spanking your ass as he drills into your poor hole and leaving your sweet cunt untouched, Sukuna grins. “‘Course it does, slut.”

Anchoring himself where one knee digs into the bed while his next foot is planted into the sheets, Sukuna manages to bottom out in you. He impales your insides, but it feels incredibles. Your face is stained in dried up tears while more pools out from you, your pussy also weeping as your juices drip down your thigh. Your nails dig into the sheet, so deep that it makes a hole. Nonetheless, you squeeze until you feel them in your skin as you take everything that he gives you. Your cunt pulsates in a deep want, both holes clenching as the wetness from the lube and Sukuna’s precum sounds through the room.

The room echos in each other’s lust before you feel Sukuna’s cock twitch inside of you and his thrusts grow slightly unsteady. You can only hear him mutter a ‘fuck’ before he’s spilling inside of you. His body slumps forward into you, pressing his weight against you and forcing you flat onto the bed. His cock still inside of you, his hand snakes around your neck as he presses your face into the sheets as he rocks his hips into you as he spurts inside of you. Chest panting against your back, his breath is hot against you as he says, “You’re mine from now on, okay?”

You nod. “‘M all yours, sir.”

—

MESSAGE THREAD BETWEEN YOU AND SUKUNA

you: we’re not getting back together. sukuna: that’s the only way you’re able to get out of this.  (two hours later) you: are you being honest? sukuna: yes.  you: fine.

[glamoursize]

༘⋆₊📸.𖥔 ˖ . . NAUNAMI'S SCANDALOUS KINKTOBER ²⁵

from controversially young girlfriends to sex tapes being wrongfully released, loafi has been doing a lot of work digging to unravel these stories as it comes into question who's the worst news outlet - loafichill or tmz? either way, the stories will be juicy and so will your underwear by the time you're finished reading what we have to share.

☆ trending celebrities: from jujutsu kaisen industries ── sukuna ryoumen, nanami kento, shoko ieiri, utahime iori, & gojo satoru.

──── tune into newsletter subscriptions. ) minors, ageless, & blank blogs: do not interact ! ive been harboring this for so long. it's time to let it off its leash for my first kinktober on this account. yee !

OCTOBER 1 ) SEX TAPE LEAKED

REVENGE PORN, ANAL SEX, HEAVY DEGREDATION

──── sukuna ryomen was praised for being a brilliant director, commended for the beautiful work he put out. the same thing should be said for a sex tape, right? read more . . .

OCTOBER 8 ) CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GIRLFRIEND

LARGE AGE GAP, CORRUPTION & SIZE KINK

──── nanami kento, a well-rounded actor known for his serious roles, is found kissing upcoming sex symbol & popstar, [reader], and a lot of people have something to say about it. read more . . .

OCTOBER 24 ) THEY'RE JUST FRIENDS

HOMOEROTIC THREESOME & SEX TOYS

──── there are many theories speculating shoko ieiri and utahime iori's relationship, but despite the ongoing questions, the two refuse to either confirm or deny. read more . . .

OCTOBER 31 ) HOLLYWOOD'S IT COUPLE

MIRROR SEX, PRAISAL, CUNNILINGUS

──── the people love them ─ you and gojo satoru ─ but truth be told, do they truly love each other? read more . . .

[glamoursize]

𐙚 : dubcon & noncon photo taking.

you hate nerdjo because he walks around so cockily thinking he knows everything. always a willing participant in discussions and always knocking people down a peg when someone makes a mistake during a lecture. he's such a cocky asshole and someone needs to burst his bubble.

you've tried to do it by engaging in in-class debates that the professor would begin. it always brought the two of you toe to toe as the students would watch in amusement to see how this all plays out.

gojo wins. he always wins.

you don't know how to knock him down, and as time progresses, you don't think anyone ever will.

until your professor assigns the two of you to work together on an assignment. two of his smartest students in the class, he wanted the two of you to work together to present something at a seminar for students interested in biochemistry and the advancements made because of technology. however, the professor feared that because of your mutually shared feud between each other, it would alter what could be tremendous results. "just── please, you two... find a way to cordially work together."

the both of you instantaneously agreed because neither of you was going to turn down an opportunity like this. however, the moment the two of you left the room, you were both back to square one.

gojo scoffs. "i understand why he chose me, but you?" he snorts. "you can barely keep up with me in class during discussions. he should've chosen someone else."

"you must've been coddled as a child," you sneer. "it'd explain why you have the attitude of a bitch."

the arguing didn't stop there, becoming your professor's nightmare when the two of you can barely get anything done because gojo's critiques on your work is so harsh and he won't accept anything you've done.

you're about to head to his place the fourth time this week to go over things. hopefully, he won't knitpick everything and finally accept what you've got. when you knock on the door, however, there's no answer. again, you knock, but before you can even try for a third time, you're shifting for the spare key he showed to you and using it to unlock the door.

you don't hear anything when you get inside. "gojo!"

nothing. "gojo!"

you huff in annoyance, knowing that he's here because he texted you half an hour ago to tell you to meet him here. heading into the direction of his room, that's when you start to hear it. the moans and the breathy panting for air.

"shit," you curse under your breath. contemplating on turning around and going home, your body makes the decision for you by heading closer towards the bedroom door instead. cracked open, you can see it── you can see him. your eyes widen.

back against the bed and legs hiked up, gojo's knees nearly hit his chest. he's lying on a towel, and his wet glistening skin indicates a recent shower. in between his legs, he's pumping himself, and from your view, you have the perfect view of his puckered asshole and his pale skin. you'd be lying if you were to tell yourself you're not even slightly aroused.

"fuck," the two of you curse at the same time. you shouldn't be watching this, you know, but you're so entranced, and your body eggs you to open the door wider before you can properly think. in the mere seconds, you conjure up a plan. a perfect plan to do what you've always wanted── to be on top.

he doesn't see you, too focused on himself to take any notice. and you're so gentle despite the venom being spewed across your mind when you approach him. when you're so close, you contemplate chickening out, but your inner voice speaks, don't back out now. take control of the situation.

"so, this is the type of shit you're into?" gojo jumps at the sound of your voice, trying to collect himself from such a vulnerable and albeit pathetic position. but, you grab a hold of his thigh, stopping him. "no, no, i didn't tell you to stop."

gojo's still tense, sapphire eyes throwing daggers at you. if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, but he submits. "you gonna make fun of me?"

"i should," you smile smugly. "you'd like that, huh?"

"fuck you," he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"soon enough," you smile. "but open your mouth first."

eyes widening, he stumbles on his words. "i──" ultimately stumped, his mouth falls open, and that's when you pull out your phone from your back pocket. snapping a photo of him quickly before retracting your hand from a ready to fight gojo, you beam happily. "blackmail!"

"you leak that and i'll sue you," he threatens.

"then, stop being such a jackass," you frown. "having me change and rewrite the paper every second."

"but──"

"what?" you go to cup his balls. "you don't wanna come?──" gojo shudders. "── the professor said we need to work on it together and i'd be damned if you did all the work."

with a pause to contemplate, you take the moment to run your fingers down his shaft. eyes ogling his length, he's so long, you can't help but think. you can feel a slight twitch and you see his adam’s apple bob. "fine. just── fuck ──make me come, so we can finish this assignment."

you smile wickedly before your palm wraps around his length, making him shiver under your touch as glossy pre leaks from his tip. fixing yourself on the bed, you press down on his legs to keep him still as your wrist travels a steady motion. your heart races watching gojo's face twist and contort all because of you. the corners of your lips curve delightfully as you continue to jerk him off.

"you talk such a big game in class," you taunt, "but deep down you're such a pathetic little bitch boy, right, gojo?"

when he doesn't respond, you squeeze around his shaft. "right, gojo?"

"yes," he cries. "fuck! keep going!"

he mores and writhes from the pleasure, his balls tightening up as he feels his orgasm approaching. cock twitching in your hands, yoyr eyes beam in excitement.

"i──"

"come, gojo," you breathe. "drink it all up."

when he comes, he tastes himself on his tongue, splashes of his white seed splashing on his face. his stomach clenches as you keep going, making sure to drain him empty before you finally release his legs and they fall on the bed. he pants, licking at the corner of his mouth when you shift on the bed. pulling off your pants, you rid yourself of your jeans and leave on your underwear.

"what're you doing?"

you hop onto him, and gojo instinctively grips your waist. you grin, "you wanted to fuck me, remember?"

by the time the two of you are done fucking and finally got some actual work done, it's dark out. collecting your stuff, you turn back to gojo. "by the way, i wouldn't have leaked the picture. i took that for personal reasons."

[glamoursize]

imagine gojo as a robot ── an artificial companion made custom to your needs. you received him from your parents as a gift of concern. you live your life as a hermit, only going to work and home. you avoid grocery shopping if you can, ordering online to have them delivered to you on the weekends, and try to only have virtual doctor's appointments if you can. you never go out, and the most outside time you have is sitting out in your backyard.

your parents always told you how important it is to be social, but you always ignored their advice and wishes that they had for you. you were content in your lonely life.

so receiving this freskishly tall and freakishly handsome robot came as a surprise. builders bulldozing in your house as your parents are on the phone with you. they ignore your berating as they go on in detail about the robot. your mother especially, "isn't he cute? he's just your type, i know it!"

your father's next, warning you not to try anything. "there's a tracker inside him if you ever try to give him away. i'll track him down and return him right back to you."

so, there you go. you have a robot man as a friend.

as time progresses, you've come to enjoy his company. gojo's become a helping hand around your apartment and you're coming to realize how fun socializing can be. he's got such a teasing and flirtatious personality, always coming off more romantic than platonic. sly touches that linger on and fingers brushing against your lips in heated moments. you never questioned it.

the longer he stays with you, the longer he feels more... human. asking you questions in curiosity, watching television with you and genuinely showing interest. however, you still don't question it.

it isn't until one night, he asks to kiss you. you gasp, "w-what?"

"i saw it on the television," gojo admits. "in one of the shows we were watching. i want to do that with you."

this is where you remember that he's a robot, by the blunt ease he tells you certain things. however, lost in those inhumane eyes of his, you nod, silently granting him permission. and things continue to escalate from there.

from the innocence of asking for a kiss to kissing you when the moment feels right, it's come to a point where you're gladly splayed out on the bed for him. bare under his beautiful gaze, your arousal seeps through your folds as he has your legs spread out for you. fingers dipping into your heat. he smiles in awe as gojo sighs, "marvelous."

that boyish grin you love plasters on his face as he dips down to your heat and takes one lick. his tongue feels so real, the soft sponge of the faux muscle getting dampened by your arousal as gojo tongue fucks you. your moans egging him on to your release. he moves like an expert for something that claims he wants to explore and learn more about sex. and when he makes you come, he doesn't stop there.

"satoru," you squeak. "it's too── it's too much!"

"i want to know what makes you feel good," he pants from in between your legs. "i only want to make you feel good."

by the time his cock's in between your legs, you have already came twice. body exhausted, your bundle of nerves are highly sensitive. still, you let your companion use your body, all in the name of your pleasure. gojo's cock glides in you with ease, and he watches how you twist and contort in pleasure. he memorizes it── records it.

soon, drilling his cock in and out of you, you cry out his name in a mantra. "satoru," you drewl. "satoru, you feel s'good."

"i like this," he beams. "i like having sex with you."

maybe you should've said no to this. maybe you should've set more boundaries because when he's finally off of you and you've gotten the rest you needed, the moment you open up your eyes, gojo's on top of you again. and he smiles down at you so sweetly as he massages your breasts, "can we have sex again? can i make you feel good again?"

you wish you had the strength to say no to him, but your pussy flutters and you know deep down that you want gojo, too.

"yes."

[glamoursize]

you and nanami are such a heavy contrast. he's a salaryman, always wearing expensive, tailored suits, and always so stoic and serious. however, you── his pretty little partner── are quite the contrary to what people first depicted you to be. no one would have thought nanami dated someone along your caliber── someone so tatted up.

and you're covered in a lot of them, so many that you lost count. when nanami first admitted to having a partner, he experienced the expected the teasing and badgering from gojo. oh, i bet' they're so cute, he'd chide. you look like the type to date cute people.

"no, gojo'd gasp. are they as serious as you? don't tell me they're a boring twig like you──" nanami wasn't a violent person outside of defeating curses, but the warning he threw gojo let the man know that he was willing to go there. for you. thus, making gojo even more curious. who could make nanamin act so violently out of love?

one evening, while nanami's heading back home, gojo is shamelessly following him despite the blond's protests against it. though, nanami doesn't put up a fight because he knew that he should've never mentioned you in the first place. so, meeting each other at your habitual spot, at a park where the flowers are beautiful, nanami proudly wraps his fingers into yours while gojo gawks in shock.

nanami almost forgets the white-haired nuisance's existence, kissing your lips tenderly when you catch the man with a slack jaw staring profusely. "kento," you say in a low voice. "who's this?"

gojo is at a loss for words, eyes trailing down your body at how covered you are. traversing your biceps down to your wrists, and wearing a pair of jeans shorts, both legs are fairly done. it makes gojo concerned on the behalf of nanami ── was he coerced to be with you? no, nanami could never. but...

"a colleague of mine," nanami simply states. "he's, uh, gojo."

"so, this is the one giving my boyfriend such a hard time at work?" giving gojo a once over like he did you, your eyes twinkle in mischief when you add, "he certainly looks annoying."

nanami snorts while gojo finally snaps out of his dazed trance. "hey─"

"c'mon," nanami goes to kiss your temple. "let's get going." arm wrapping around the expanse of your waist, pulling you to him. your shirt rides up a bit and gojo should feel ashamed but he’s curious, is it only your arms and legs? his eyes widen at the centimeter of ink spotted on your waist.

"so, what?" gojo calls out. "no goodbye for me?"

"goodbye, gojo," nanami calls out.

"and what about your beautiful partner, huh?" gojo goads. "what about you?"

"bye, gojo," you quickly bid before turning to your boyfriend, still in his embrace as you walk down the gravel path. "you need a new job, baby. does he always sound so needy?"

the next morning before nanami arrives at jujutsu tech, gojo's telling everyone── including yuuji, nobara, and megumi── about nanami's badass partner covered in tattoos. totally claiming how you're way out of his league. nanami finds out from yuuji, and of course, the blonde slaps his superior. though... he knows it's true. you are way out of his league.

"yes," he chuckles. "and if you can find me something i'll actually like, i'll take it."

[glamoursize]

pop sensational ノ nanami kento

you’ve got a fiery temper and a chip on your shoulder. it's gotten to a point where no one wants to work with you, and your career is nearly in shambles. the media wants to know: are you a diva or truly just a bitch?

in efforts of rebranding, your manager sends you on a resort to kuantan, malaysia, where you meet someone who truly speaks life back into you and once again, making you remember and feel the passion you once had.

( 🎙 ) loafi-mix tags. idol!au, vacation fling, age gap relationship [ reader: early twenties & nanami: mid-to-late thirties ], mentions of stalking & light violence, lots of arguing, enemies to fuckers, brat!reader, brat taming, (pussy) spanking, rough sex, doggy style, manhandling, asphyxiation, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, dirty talk, etc.

──── ☆ loafi-mix notes. it's summer vacation for me & im feeling the summer vibes so strong.

BREAKING NEWS: [YOUR STAGE NAME] CAUGHT PUNCHING SUPER FAN IN THE FACE

“It seems like (Your Stage Name) will go to any means necessary for their privacy as a video’s been circulating the internet about a certain popstar losing their cool on a fan of theirs,” Gossip News Anchor, Gojo Satoru, introduces as he appears on screen. As the tall individual sits behind the large table, the gloss reflecting his incredible physique, Gojo’s sapphire eyes seem to be haunting you as to his left, the aforementioned video appears on his left. No matter the position you take on the couch, you’ve found that his eyes won’t leave yours and nearly put you in hysterics. 

Your blood starts to boil all over again as you grip the plastic fork tightly and shovel more food in your mouth. “Previously charting number one on Billboards with their album Good Girls Cry, Hot Girls Fly, numbers are already starting to tank as people have created their own notion on the hot-tempered celebrity.”

Gojo snorts, pink lips contorting into a devious smirk as he adds his own commentary. “I don’t know which one applies to her— seems to be neither. ”

The smart thing would be to change the channel or turn off the television, but you have this sick want of knowing what everyone’s saying about you, especially the man you used to watch eagerly, always believing that when you make it big, you’d fly under his radar and keep a good image. Now, here you are, stirring in anger as he gets the best of you. 

He continues talking as you continue to watch and eat away in anger. Orange chicken, broccoli, and rice being shoved in without a second to waste. You come to a point where you can barely chew properly when the events that have transpired relays in the back of your mind. 

You scoff, grains of rice spewing from your mouth. What Gojo Satoru names a Super Fan, you deem a stalker. The moment you remember the clip becoming viral, the video relaying on your Tik Tok feed, you could immediately tell that it’s been seamlessly edited to fit the victim’s narrative. Though, you’d also claim that you’re the victim. 

Halfway in between your dinner, you lose your appetite, forcing yourself to chew and swallow what’s already in your mouth and finally finding the strength to change the channel. The last thing you hear Gojo say is, “People coined her this generation’s top diva, but I beg you guys to ask— is she a diva or just a bitch? Remember guys, this isn’t her first rodeo. We need to think about who we make famous and—”

══════════════════

“We need to fix your image.” After days of ignoring your manager’s calls, you’ve finally decided to answer one of her calls. You knew that you couldn’t avoid the world and its consequences for too long. You chose this life and if you wanted to continue having this life, you needed to partake in whatever damage control your manager could conjure. But, would any of it be worth it? 

The people loved a good diva. They love to hate on female celebrities and coin them as divas the moment they set healthy boundaries between them and their fans, but you’ve gotten to a point where you don’t know if you’ll ever redeem yourself from this. Especially because you’re hellbent on believing that you’re in the right. 

“What for?” Slouched in the uncomfortable swivel chair, you’ve got your arms crossed and refuse to look up at the woman who’s managed to take you out of the gutters when you would make, yet again, another bad choice that the media always come to enjoy. You’ve been looking at the comments on all the social media platforms that you access too. (You’re figuring that they’ll come to confiscate that, too, by the end of this meeting). The accusations and statements are far more worse this time around— devastating amounts of death threats, misogynistic comments from both men and women, and vile dms that made your bones shudder in disgust and fear. It was an overnight shift that definitely confirmed your fears— this lavish life you’ve come to live will all be over soon. All because your stalker got the better hand. “I did what I needed to do to protect myself.”

“That’s not what social media’s saying.” You can’t quite understand how Shoko keeps such a level head with you, always managing to stay calm no matter what you throw at her. Setting her hands on the table, her nails shine in the clear coated polish she’s applied as she taps them in a rhythm you’ve always found calming. You wonder if she’s come to realize that with the way your shoulders lose tension. “They’ve already been collecting evidence to hate you and this seems to be the nail in the coffin. I know you’ve seen what people are saying. We need to get this under control before we can’t—”

“We needed it under control the moment I suspected that I had a fucking stalker.” Fixing your posture, you’re surrounded by your PR team, but only one woman who freely challenges and doesn’t have the fear to talk back to you. You slam your fist on the table. “The moment I contacted the police with my speculation, they should’ve been on it!”

“And you should’ve let your bodyguard do your job and handle things,” she fires back. “Maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess if you had.”

The room gets strikingly quiet, quieter than before. Shoko’s rendered you silent before, but always telling you something that you needed to hear. This— this you fear, isn’t. Feeling the impact of her own words, you see her composure fall for a quick second and her mouth falls open in quick attempts to take back her own words. However, you’ve always believed that words spoken out in anger are always laced in a person’s truth. 

You stand on your feet as people divert eye contact from both you and Shoko. “Before you try and apologize, don’t. Just start looking for someone else to work with.”

When you leave, the only sound the meeting room could hear is the creak of the door slowly shutting behind you. And then finally, with a heavy exhale as Shoko hides her face in her hands, she curses, “Shit.”

Two hours later, when you’re back at home and eating your anger away, you receive a notification. A text message from Shoko: I’m not here to apologize. I know you won’t accept it, but I really advise you to take a break. Somewhere far and not America. I know you’ve always wanted to go to Malaysia, what about Kuantan? 

And against your better judgment, you click on the link she’s provided. You don’t respond to her, letting the read receipt speak volumes, and already contemplating outfits for the trip. 

══════════════════

The sun shines brighter in Kuantan, Malaysia. And for a long time, you’ve been seeing your shine dim down under the warming lights of stadiums and arenas— burning your skin but never making it brighter. But, here— here — you truly glimmer underneath the hot rays of the sunlight. Sitting on a white blanket, stabilized by a water bottle, a tote bag, shoes and a cooler, you’re laying down in a dark green bikini and if you move ever so slightly, you can feel your belly button piercing against your navel. This has been the most relaxed you’ve ever felt since the couple years of stardom you’ve experienced. 

Within this private resort, you’ve got booked, you remain untouched and unbothered for the remainder of your trips, only ever hearing the sound of your name from employees doing their job. And the only time eyes are on you is when passersby are walking past and shoot a quick glance. They never blatantly stop and stare. 

You’ve grown the habit to always wear headphones or earbuds to silence the outside world, but recently, you’ve found the beauty in listening to the outside world. Right now, it’s the sound of waves from clear waters where you can see marine life in your own tranquil home while you and countless people invade it for the time being. It’s the sound of locals and tourists speaking in their native tongues, and it’s the sound of your ignorance to the current events being relayed about you back home. 

You don’t want to leave.

When you no longer feel the warming hug of the sun against your skin, you figure it’s hiding amidst the clouds, but the dark shadow that casts over you is what startles your peace. Your eyes flutter open to a large body blocking the sun and you’re trying to be patient, you truly are, but the virtue’s never been strong for you. You’ve always told yourself that your lack of it is what’s driven you to such heights in your career, but now, it’s not your biggest strength, it’s a weakness and a flaw. Dark eyebrows scrunching together as you groan under your breath, trying to control the impending rage, but the longer that this blond brute stands in front of you the more you grow annoyed. 

“Hello?” Your voice cracks, but you’re certain he’s heard you by the way he shifts on his feet. Nonetheless, you try again, louder. “Hello!”

“Hm?” you hear his deep voice finally turning towards you. Wearing round, tinted shades, you can’t see his eyes, but he has strong facial features. Dusty pink lips fixed in a relaxed frown, he looks down at your sitting frame while you scowl at him. 

“Can’t you find somewhere else to stand?” you ask, attitude laced with every word. “You’re literally blocking my view.”

You expected a meek apology and for the man to sheepishly move out of your way, but to your surprise, he scoffs and turns back around, continuing to block your view and this time, purposely. In shock, you snort and further push yourself to sit up. “Excuse me!”

You’d have thought it was a language barrier, but just from his actions, you knew he understood you clearly. Your blood starts to boil, forcing yourself to stand up and approach the man, pushing at his shoulder to catch his attention. He matches your energy, this time, showing his annoyance when he spins around. “What?”

“I know you heard me,” you cross your arms, entering his personal space in hopes that he’d back up. However, he stands his ground, remaining an unmoving obstacle before you. “Move out the way! I don’t know how you didn’t see me before, but I was sitting here first.”

“And you can continue sitting there,” he states. 

“Who do you think you are?” you snap. 

“Who do you think you are?” he retorts back at you, crossing his muscular arms, prominent veins putting themselves on display. "This is a public beach. And don't you think you could've asked more politely?"

“I—” you stop yourself from continuing, clenching your fists as you try to control your anger. You know that he's right. You could've approached things better. Right as you’re about to say something else, an employee makes themself known. A petite woman looking in between you and the man, hoping to de-escalate the issue. “Is there something wrong?”

You groan, turning to the woman, nails digging into the palm of your hand as you try to find the words to calmly vent out your frustration. However, you remember the entire point of your trip— to relax. Seeing you flustered, trying to find your voice is comical. Typically, Nanami didn’t like the call of attention on him like this, but you’ve managed to dig under his skin with your snide remarks and disgusting attitude. 

He never thought he’d find comfort in someone else’s anger, but he watches you with a sense of glee. He wonders what you’re going to do next, a young thing like you blowing gasket over such a simple matter, even though he did escalate this with his sheer stubbornness to oblige. Will you berate the poor employee in your rage or will you point at him pathetically?

In a deep huff, you throw your hands up in the air in defeat. “It’s fine!”

You give up, reaching down to grab your belongings. It catches Nanami off guard as you grab for everything messily, mumbling and cursing underneath your breath before stomping away. Presumably to another spot, but you’re marching right back towards the building, leaving both Nanami and the employee at a loss of words. 

══════════════════

You never liked dining in hotels, preferring to explore other places and what they had to offer whenever you were in another state or country. However, after the long day you had, you find refuge in the hotel grounds. Also, having fallen asleep after your steaming hot shower and waking up at half past six in the evening, you don’t have the time to look for somewhere to visit right now. Instead of the green bikini you sported on the beach, you’re wearing an oversized t-shirt and biker shorts that stops a little bit past your mid-thighs. With a pair of sandals on your feet, they slap the ground with every step as you make your way down the elevator and find you a spot at a table near the bar. 

A waiter comes to greet you, sliding a menu in front of you before giving you a few minutes to look through it. You’re all alone, enjoying the soft instrumental music playing overhead and hearing others talk amongst themselves when you hear the clink of glass hitting the table. You furrow your eyebrows at the waiter, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t ask for this.”

“It’s from the gentleman at table seven,” the waiter gestures, giving you a kind smile. Following where he gestured, your mood drops as you see the curt nod at who you can only assume was the man from the beach earlier today. You roll your eyes and scoff, pushing the glass in the direction of the waiter, reading his name tag, you hum. “Sorry, Yuuji, but tell him that I don’t want it.”

“You’re not gonna accept a free drink?” he asks, taken aback. “Wait, I’m sorry! I’ll—”

The chair across from you scrapes the ground, the same blond pulling out a seat for himself and sitting down before you could protest. Nanami quickly dismisses the waiter, holding the drink down before he could take it. “You’re really stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Oh—” Caught off guard and certainly not paid enough for instances like this, Yuuji finds himself uncertain on what to do. He looks at you, big brown eyes showing concern before going right back to the older man. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

Nanami dismisses the young boy. “I can handle it from here.”

“Who said I wanted you here?” you sneer, leaning forward on the table. “I don’t want your lousy attempts at an apology. Leave.”

“Do you really think you can just bark orders at people and they’d willingly follow them?” Nanami gives you a once over, ashamed to feel an attraction towards you even though you’re spewing venom right in his direction. And the poor waiter, Yuuji, left to witness this all by himself and trying to remember employee protocols to easily handle this. He should really really get someone else, but he feels stuck.

“Ma’am, do you want me to call security for you?” Yuuji interjects, to which Nanami replies with, “That won’t be necessary.”

“Don’t be rude to him,” you snap, defending the employee. 

“I should’ve said the same thing to you back on the beach,” Nanami retorts. 

“It wouldn’t have gotten you very far,” you shoot back.

“Seems like the same thing’s happening here.”

“You suck at apologies, it seems,” you cross your arms. There’s a rush coursing through your body as your shoulders relax, tension released as you’re finding joy in this exchange. “For a man at your age, I’d expect better.”

“And for a young lady, I expected you to have better manners.”

“Seems like I wasn’t raised right,” you throw a faux smile, tilting your head as Yuuji just watches the scene unfold before him. With a shaky voice, he finally speaks again, “Uh— Ma’am?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, feeling remorse for dragging the boy into this petty debacle. “He can stay. I need a verbal punching bag right about now.”

Nanami snorts. “You think I’m so easy to beat up?”

“No, but it makes it all the more fun.”

Nanami pushes the drink in your direction, some of the contents splattering out the cup and onto the table. “Just take it.”

You slide it back in his direction. “No,” you smirk. “I don’t like drinks like this. Get me something else.”

══════════════════

Nanami has never deemed himself to be a rough man. He’s never deemed himself to be one who willfully disrespects a woman for his own pleasure, but you’ve thrown yourself into his temporary life. What should’ve been a relaxing vacation becomes infiltrated by a pretty nuisance such as yourself. You’re just some pretty little brat that couldn’t accept the answer ‘no’ and seemingly likes to rile people up. It’s apparent in your body language, how your shoulders relaxed while you argued with him at the dining table and how your eyes sparkled whenever he slewed another snarky remark. 

You were having fun and somewhere down the line, while the check was set on the table— the thing that he made sure to snatch up before you could even point a finger outwards— you felt something stir deep inside you. You couldn’t name it, refused to, but you liked it. 

“Stop trying to be so chivalrous,” you sneer, watching the man pull out a wallet and slip his card inside the leather-bounded item. “You don’t need to waste your retirement money on me.”

“You know,” Nanami sighed. “I’ve never called a woman a bitch before.”

“There’s no need to lie to me,” you exhale. When the waiter comes back, you watch as Nanami slides the bill his way. “I thought this relationship was built on honesty. Don’t worry, I won’t tell everyone else that you’re just like every other shitty man there is. They already see it for themselves.”

“How do I make you shut up?” he asks, feigning annoyance despite taking the same pleasure from this entire encounter.

“You lost that chance about an hour ago,” you gleam. “Now, you’ve got to be creative— obviously an area you lack in.”

“I’ve got a few ideas already,” Nanami smirks, leaning in his seat. “Just need to know if you’re up for it.”

“I’m sure that everything up your sleeve will surely put me to sleep in a matter of seconds,” you challenge. “But I’m willing to see what you’ve got.”

Ultimately, that seemed to be the goal. 

Stumbling in the direction of his hotel room, you fell into the door with a hearty thud, a harsh breath escaping you in this flurry of moments. His lips taste strong of the whiskey he had alongside you, his pink tongue dancing against yours to savor your taste. Your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck while his hands went into search for his keycard, grabbing it and pressing it against the metal door handle until he could hear that click sound. Your moans sound like a high-pitched surrender to his touch. Throwing open the door, you stumble back, but he catches you from falling when you threaten to do so. 

Hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, his cold fingers press underneath the cotton and dance against your bare skin. Your stomach clenches as you suck in a breath as his ice cold digits threaten your comfort. You allow him to take off your shirt, hearing it go disregarded to the ground in a soft thud while he follows next. Underneath his shirt, you feel the blond hairs against his chest. Despite the soft chub that you feel, there’s still muscle from his years of consistent workout in the past. And that muscle isn’t for show. 

He picks you up with ease, strong hands holding the undersides of your thighs as you level you to his height. “By the time I’m done with you, that mind of yours will finally be empty.”

You give him a challenging once over, eyelashes fluttering in mischief. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be done in a matter of seconds, old man.”

You don’t believe yourself, but a spark’s been ignited and you don’t want it to blow out. You squeal the moment you feel yourself drop, landing on the bed in a shock that has your heart racing. Then, one hand around your ankle, you screech when he drags you towards the end of the bed. He chuckles, in a way that’s so deep and manly that it sends arousal straight to your core. Looking in your eyes, Nanami can tell just how much fun you’re having with being such a pain in the ass. But in due time, you’ll certainly learn your lesson. 

Spreading your legs open, he palms in between your thighs, pressing against your covered cunt. He cups it, feeling the heat reverberate from it and how you pulsate. Underneath his tired brown eyes are excitement and anticipation as he smirks down at you. “Bet you’re so wet already. I know it… I know this pussy of yours’s just waiting to be fucked, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tugging on the elastic fabric to reveal your sodded panties. In contrast to the black attire, you’ve worn a matching set of pink undergarment that’s all too appealing to Nanami’s eyes. He hums in delight as he tugs on your leg once more, wrapping the limbs around his waist and pressing his thumb down against the cotton padding of your crotch, your wet mound clenching around the fabric being pressed down by his finger. Back and forth he rubs against your folds while your clit pulsates in a dire need and want for this man you’ve only met today. 

The warmth in your stomach continues to boil as your juices seep and cling to the fabric in a desperation, creating a bigger wet spot that the older man gladly feasts on with his eyes. Pink lips that happily twist in a grin as he looks down on you. Coffee-colored pupils hold so much desire in them that it makes you antsy, back starting to arch off the bed as you push yourself further against him. Gnawing on your thick bottom lip, you let your body language speak in volumes. 

You’ve dropped the facade so quickly, finding yourself easily succumbing to his touch now in hopes that he’ll give your body what it so desires. But, Nanami can’t forget what transpired in the earlier hours. And, he won’t let you forget either. 

“Aw,” he coos, tilting his head. “Does this pretty doll want me to take care of her?”

You meagerly nod, back arched off the bed as you jut out your breasts. They poke out in the cute bra, and it’s a sight that should be captured and admired, but he won’t fall for such tantalizing beauty so quickly. He won’t fall under your strings of control. 

Pulling your panties to the side, your pussy glows underneath your essence. It shines like fragile porcelain, your sweet cunt anticipating and aching to be filled up with his cock. Nanami watches it clench as his thick index finger glides seamlessly in between your folds, collecting your arousal. He creates a pathway to your clit, pressing the smooth pad against it and feeling how your body shudders. “Please…”

It’s faint, your begging, but he catches it. Eyes flickering up to yours, Nanami tuts. “Do you think you deserve more?”

You nod without a second thought, pulling out an incredulous snort from Nanami. “You do?”

Again, you nod before the lightning strikes. The sting to your cunt has you jolting, a surprised squeal leaving you. But just as the pain comes, it quickly dissipates when you feel the gentle rub right back on your clit. You take a relaxed breath before you feel your body jumping yet again. You squirm, trying to pull away from the pain, but one strong hand grips at your thigh to keep you still. “Try pulling away, and I’ll be out that door. You want that?”

You quickly shake your head, “no,” weakly falling from your lips. 

“Good,” he breathes. Neither do I. 

One more time does the sting of his slaps reverberate in your pussy. Your body shivered, back still not touching the bed as your legs tightened around the man. Your moans were sweet and breathy, eyes watching him despite their constant fluttering. Honey blond hair with streaks of silver peppered throughout. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his scalp. More and more of your honeyed slick seeped onto his hand at the sheer thought of your imagination, toes curling when you feel a digit tickle and tease at your entrance before pulling away. 

“Nanami…” you whine, but he ignores you, dropping your legs from around him before sending one last strike to your cunt. 

“I’m gonna ask you again.” He puts one knee up on the bed, crawling to hover over your body and dip down to your level. You can feel his body heat vibrate off his chest as it rises and falls in a rhythmic manner. “Do you really think you deserve more than what I’m giving you right now?”

And again, you nod. Because, you truthfully do believe that you deserve all of him. You believe you deserve everything from this world after how it’s treated you. But with the furrow of his eyebrows, you can tell that you’ve answered wrong. Rising up from the bed, Nanami sighs and pulls at his pants buttons. “Well, do you know what I think you deserve?”

Whining, you frown as you start to squirm. Bottom lip jutting out in a pout, you huff in annoyance. “Nobody cares what you think. Just come n’ fuck me already.”

Pulling down the zipper of his pants, his erection becomes more prominent as you lay pliant on the bed. Eyes fluttering down to his lower half, you can see how thick he is underneath and how he’s been gifted a dutiful amount of length with it. He chuckles, kicking off the garment and palms at his boner, feeling his pre dampen a spot against his upper thigh as you start to push yourself up on the bed, your elbows holding up your weight. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, climbing up the bed once more. He easily has you under his trance despite your weak attempts to remain so bratty. You sit up straight, leaning into him, expecting to get a taste of his lips. Mere centimeters away from them, you receive a ghost of a smile. “Because, I’m so kind, you’ll get what you want—” His voice lowered. “—Get on your hands and knees.”

Your eyes sparkle with that fire that he’s come to adore in his moments of knowing you. “Are you gonna make me?”

Gaze hardening, he meets your challenge. “I won’t tell you twice.”

Face pressed into the soft pillows, your sobs are muffled. The bed creaks as Nanami plunges into your spongy walls with such vigor. The wet clapping of skin echoes through the room as he can hear your high-pitched cries and moans get swallowed by the smooth fabric. One knee digging into the bed with his foot pressed against your scalp, he’s brutal with how he fucks your sweet hole.

Your legs shake as your inner thighs are stained with his white seed and your sticky and glossy arousal. With the gasps of air you take, you can only whine and cry as your mind’s so fogged up and body weak and pliant against the bed. Your entire body feels hot despite the harsh beating your poor cunt is taking, fluttering for more as he presses into your cervix with each thrust. His touch sets you on fire, strong and veiny hands gripping at your hips as he plows into you, never relenting until he’s had his fill. “Finally got you to shut up, huh?”

You can only respond in weak and needy moans and whimpers— music to his ears. “Only thing you can do now is cry like a little bitch.”

Your cunt flutters at that, tightening around Nanami’s cock. He grunts, trying not to lose himself in you. “Fuck,” he whispers, before his quick moment of weakness is replaced with a chuckle. “What a filthy little thing you are. Letting yourself get used and disrespected by an older man. You have no respect for yourself.”

Even in your weak state, you manage to push your rear further against him in his visceral plows. Sweat beading off his forehead, Nanami grunts and groans in the heat of your pussy. His cock showered in your essence as your sweet cunt is begging and pleading for a release he refuses to give you. With every press of his tip against that gummy spot deep inside you, you feel that fluttering need to let go and release. But with every squeeze that lasts too long and when your sounds get all choked up, Nanami denies you yet another release and himself momentary pleasure. He pants, chest falling and rising as he watches you quiver below. Your ass jutting out in desperation as he eases the pressure he applies with his foot against you. It gives you just a moment to croak out, “Please… I want—”

He doesn’t give you more time to respond, gripping at your hair and forcing you up to have your back pressed against him. His excess seed slips past your folds and stains your thighs even more than they’ve already been. Whimpering, your eyes shut as you feel Nanami’s breath against the nape of your neck. “You asked for more. Isn’t this more?”

He tugs on your hair, your neck snapping back as he forces you to look at him through your welling up eyes. You shake your head, “Not enough. I need t’come. Please, Nanami!”

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” Nanami hums. “Beg s’more and maybe I’ll let you.”

You disobedient little thing, succumbing to him after all the fights you’ve put up. Eyes scrunching shut, you moan and whine out, “Please… Please, please, please! I need to cum— want t’come so bad!”

He doesn’t say anything, just pushing you back down on your stomach as he aligns himself within you once more. Sliding back inside you at ease, he returns to using brute force against your pussy walls. One knee digging into the sheets while his leg has its toes tangled in them, his sheaths himself greedily into your pussy. He’s still got a tight hold on your waist while his other hand snakes in between your legs to press down on your clit, eliciting a high-pitched sob from your lips. “Fuck!” 

Gaining a bit of strength, you hold your upper body up with trembling hands that’ll soon give out, but it's worth it in the time being. With lidded eyes, you try your best to get a view of the man messing up your insides with his fat length, eyes fluttering when they make eye contact with the blond. You moan and mewl out in pleasure when that familiar coil returns. Eyes rolling back as you call out his name, “Nanami, please…”

He pinches your clit, sending a jolt through your body as your pussy clenches around his cock once more. There’s no pulling out this time, letting your walls hold his length in a death grip before you release yourself against him. He can feel himself twitch, buried deep inside your womb as you paint his cock in a smearing white. Your long-winded moan contorts into a hearty sigh, limbs falling as your chest hits the bed and your exhausted body having its fill. A few more languid thrusts of Nanami’s hips pull a few more high-pitched hymns from you before he’s completely emptied himself inside of you. 

His length falls limp when he unsheaths himself from you, watching how your sweet hole leaks a mixture of each other’s release. It drips and stains the bed sheets and he only now feels guilty for the housekeepers tasked to clean it. Finally, you turn yourself on your back, hazy eyes pinned right on Nanami. “I’ll be seeing you after this, right?”

Nanami can’t help but snort, “Don’t tell me I’ve softened you up.”

“Oh, definitely not,” you laugh. “Just want to know if I have more to look forward to on this little trip.”

“I’ll let you know if I can fit some more time for you.”

══════════════════

POP DIVA HAS RETURNED FROM BREAK! HAS SHE RETURNED A BRAND NEW PERSON OR HAS SHE REVERTED RIGHT BACK TO HER WAYS?

By Gojo Satoru | Thursday, June 12, 2025 | 12:00 PM 

After viral videos of (Your Stage Name) has been released, they had dropped off the radar. Her record label claimed that she was taking a break from all the stardom while the people were demanding an explanation. It’s been six months since her disappearance and the people want to know if she’s learned her lesson or not.  You all know how I feel about the crowned pop diva, but it’s not up to me to decide if she’s worthy enough to be back in the limelight. How do you guys feel? … Read More

𐙚 : this is my first time writing brat taming. y'all vibing with it? thank you so much for taking the time to read. please let me know what you thought down below in the comments, please. i will give you a slice of an apple.

[glamoursize]

"this is all yer fault," your boyfriend grumbles, forehead pressed against yours as the two of you struggle to disconnect from one another. trapped by your own jewelry, you and bakugo fail to find the ending of either of your nose hoops to finally pull away.

you scoff, your long nails attempting to find that tiny gap that will set the both of you loose. however, thirty minutes of trying has already come to fail the both of you. "how's this my fault? you're the one that initiated the kiss."

"yeah, but yer the one that told me to get a nose piercing," bakugo retorts, crimson eyes scrunched up in pain as you tug on the metal stuck inside his nose. he curses under the breath as you keep on pulling.

"i'm the one──" you kiss your teeth, your anger blinding you of your current predicament as you try to get up, only for the both of you to be met with pain. planted on his lap, you grind against bakugo's pelvis in your struggle. "don't act like you don't have your own bodily autonomy! you were just as eager as i was."

bakugo snorts, "yeah, right! you were on yer knees begging f'me to get it. told me that i'd look 'hot' with it."

"and you do," you can’t help but giggle, your hands falling as your noses and foreheads still kiss. "but you still could've said no. i would have just cried and wallowed in despair for the rest of eternity."

"and who'd want to witness that?" bakugo smirks, voice dropping deeper as his gaze lightened on you.

"not you, apparently," you cheese. returning back to his regular facade, his blonde eyebrows furrow back together.

"anyway," bakugo swats your hands away. "lemme see if i can get us out of this since you're apparently no help at all."

"hey!" you cry, playfully pushing at his chest while he nudges his nose ring back and forth. in a matter of five minutes, you feel your nose ring finally loosen from his as you can finally rise up from bakugo's chest. arms swinging out, you stretch and exhale out, "finally!"

"that wasn't too hard," bakugo comments cockily, a knowing smirk directed right at you to call for a reaction. hitting his chest gently, you go to climb off him when you feel two hands grip at your waist. "where're ya goin'?"

"wha──" he pulls you in for another kiss, a small kiss before adding, "i wasn't done with ya."

"what if our nose rings get stuck again?"

he shrugs. "i wouldn't have minded another hour stuck with ya."

you're not given more time before bakugo's pulling you right back on his lap, making you squeal out before he swallows your lips in another heated kiss.